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Jack stares up at me through his skull mask.

“What, buddy?”

“You’re scary!”

I fold my arms.

“That’s the point.”

He considers this.

Then nods solemnly.

“I’m scary too.”

“Terrifying.”

He raises his plastic scythe.

“Boo!”

I clutch my chest.

“Jesus Christ! Nearly killed me.”

Jack dissolves into giggles.

Across the room, Autumn bursts out laughing.

“Careful, boys. There’s only room for one Reaper in this family.”

Jack points at me.

“Daddy’s the big Reaper!”

“And you’re the little one,” I tell him.

He grins.

“Mommy’s a witch!”

“Yeah, buddy. Been saying that for years.”

Autumn narrows her eyes.

“Grayson Blackwood.”

I grin.

“Love you, Pumpkin.”

“You’re sleeping in the garage.”

“Promises, promises.”

Three hours later, the last little monster finally leaves.

Jack is asleep upstairs, still wearing his tiny black cloak, and Blackwood Manor looks like a candy factory exploded inside a haunted house.