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"My dad carved pumpkins way too early."

"What changed?"

"They packed everything away."

"Everything?"

"Every decoration."

Every instinct in my body sharpens.

"When?"

"The first week of October."

"Why?"

Sayer slowly shakes his head.

"They said..."

His voice barely rises above a whisper.

"...they didn't want to attract attention anymore."

I feel my wolf stir. Not with fear. Recognition. Because somewhere deep inside, a memory I've never fully understood brushes against the edge of my mind. A warning. A feeling.

The certainty that Halloween isn't simply approaching. Something is waking up.

And somehow…

Everyone connected to Sayer already knew it.

I don't tell them what I'm thinking. Mostly because I don't have enough evidence to justify saying it out loud.

Patterns. That's what I trust. Not hunches. Not folklore. Patterns. And right now, every pattern points toward one conclusion. Someone prepared Sayer for this. Whether they understood what was coming is another question.

I stand and move toward the front hall closet. Carys watches me.

"What are you doing?"

"Inventory."

"Inventory of what?"

"Everything that keeps people alive."

She folds her arms.

"That's… oddly specific."

"It's my job."

I open the closet. Flashlights. Extra batteries. A first-aid kit. Blankets. Portable lanterns. Better prepared than most homes.

"Clever," I murmur.

"I like being prepared."