When the sun went down, Monty dressed up. As a child who was never taught about Halloween, he was eager to join the other kids in their night of fun. As an elementary school student, he was told about Halloween by an older sibling, and had proceeded to gush to his parents about it later that day. Lillian, upon his excited chattering, had slapped him in the mouth and scolded him for speaking of the devil’s holiday. After this, he never again brought it up - but always longed to participate.

Three nights before, Zina and Atticus had a fight that left Zina in tears. It reminded Monty of his parents. After arriving home from her vaginoplasty appointment, Zina had been tired and sore, and certainly not in the mood to argue with her husband. Atticus had waited by the door for her to return home, frustrated at her long absence. Monty had cooked his own dinner, and eaten alone in the spare room Zina made for him. Even if he’d had the opportunity to spend time with his brother-in-law, the man made him feel intimidated.

Six days ago, Mara was found dead by Saphira. Asher, who had been in prison, left law enforcement baffled. He wasn’t here for long, but even a short stay somewhere scary could be traumatic. Alma was tired of looking after the younger kids. She’d told Monty this the last time they spoke, which wasn’t recent. The farm had been empty and eerie, filled with children and social workers trying to find places for them. The fact that Monty’s father had no will made things complicated. The children couldn’t stay at home, but there were too many of them to keep together.

Both of Orion’s parents were dead. It wouldn’t have mattered either way; they wouldn’t have wanted their grandchildren anyway. Monty wondered who his father would have chosen as an emergency contact for his children. He had no siblings: at least, none that Monty knew of. Orion probably wasn’t a man who cared much what happened to his family when he was gone. Orion probably was too proud to imagine anything happening to him.

Monty always assumed he’d move in with Zina: but she was increasingly busy and tired, and their visits were becoming less frequent. Several of Monty’s siblings were already living on their own when they were his age. No one left home knowing how to support themselves. If you had no older siblings or role models, you had to learn everything on your own.

He could speculate, but nobody knew for sure who murdered Mara. She’d been found in the kitchen, positioned as though she were resting, with no visible wounds. According to the officer Zina had spoken with earlier that week, Mara died of a cerebral ischemia caused by manual strangulation - a blood choke, she’d called it. Asher’s innocence was proven during the investigation, after his lawyer convinced the lead investigator to check the deleted footage from the security camera Orion had set up outside the garage.

It never seemed like Sebastian. He was a charismatic and cunning man, although evidently not smart enough to realize that deleted video footage could be recovered. There was a man with him in the footage; Monty had never seen him before. The night of Monty’s father’s death, he used Asher as bait: luring him, drugging him, knowing he’d be too groggy and disoriented to remember the details of the night.

“It’s always the people you least expect,” said Saphira, “I always knew there was something weird about him.”

“I don’t know why Sebastian would do that,” said Adam, “I thought he loved Dad.”

Monty wondered a lot of things. Mostly, he wondered how Sebastian had gotten into the house late at night without a key. He wondered what motive a person could possibly have for killing a man they claimed to respect and honour. It had been proven without a reasonable doubt that Sebastian was responsible for the deaths of Monty’s parents. Despite this, no one was really certain if he was responsible for the death of Mara as well.

“One of the kids let him in,” said Zina, when Sebastian’s trial had ended. “I don’t know who, or why, or whether they knew what he was planning, but somebody let him in.”

After arriving home that night, when Atticus demanded to know where she had gone, Zina raised an eyebrow. “I was getting my surgery. I told you about it months ago.”

Monty had been wary of Atticus since the wedding. He wasn’t the type to speak badly of other people - and Zina loved the man. “You never told me that.” Zina was six feet tall. She used to hate this, as a woman, always having to date men she towered over. Atticus was taller than her - and she’d been comforted by this. He stood in front of her, blocking the doorway with an arm on the wall. Zina loved his arms: she’d always been drawn to muscular men. “You don’t tell me anything.”

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It was uncomfortable to eavesdrop on other people’s arguments. No matter where Monty positioned himself, they spoke loud enough that he could hear. Zina’s voice was steady, where Monty’s would have wavered. “I know that I told you, Atticus. Maybe you just weren’t listening.” At this, she’d sighed, glancing briefly over at Monty. “I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed.” Zina wasn’t an emotional woman. At least, Monty didn’t know her to be. Like anybody else, she reacted to emotional situations, but she’d always managed to get herself under control rather quickly. It helped to know your worth. It had taken Zina many years to get where she was at.

“Come on, Monty! Let’s go celebrate your first Halloween!”

Zina stood in his doorway, dressed in the Barbie costume she was so excited to receive. For the first time, Monty was leaving the house as a boy, and he felt like one. “I’m ready.” Two days previous, Zina had taken him costume shopping at the city’s costume store. He dressed as a vampire, which felt fitting for the night. Zina, who had promised to take him trick-or-treating, had been eager about introducing Monty to her friend’s younger brother, who was around Monty’s age and also trans. He hadn’t ever had friends before. It would be very nice to have someone else to talk to. “Is your friend coming?”

Monty didn’t remember what it felt like to have fun. He’d certainly never gone out on a weeknight. He’d felt bitter more often than not since leaving the farm: a teenager deserved a proper childhood, with friends, and hobbies, and freedom. It felt inappropriate to be bitter. In the hallway, Zina stopped to look at herself in a standing mirror. “They’re meeting us in a bit. You’re going to love Sam. You two have a lot in common.”

It was getting late. This time of night, most of the young children had gone to bed, leaving only older kids and teenagers. Zina said this was the best time to go. There’d be a Halloween party at the home of one of her friends, who lived down the street. Although Monty wanted to develop a normal social life, he wasn’t sure he was ready to attend a party. She stopped in the kitchen to greet Atticus, who had just gotten home from work.

Atticus looked up from his phone. “Where are you going?” He had a gruff voice, and never spoke just for the sake of speaking.

“I told you.” Zina’s boots were black and spiky. Monty’s sneakers were checkered and scuffed. “We’re meeting Rian and Sam to go door-to-door. Then there’s a party at Danica’s house.” She smiled, kissing her husband before opening the door. “We won’t be out that late. I just want Monty to experience Halloween.”

Teenagers whooped outside. Monty’s plastic vampire fangs felt uncomfortable. A clock ticked. Atticus stood, striding to the door in three swift steps. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

He hadn’t always seemed so controlling. Ever since the wedding, he’d been increasingly so. Zina looked down. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Atticus reminded Monty of his father. Shrugging, he returned to the table. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it.” Quiet, he looked at Monty, and then Zina. “Anyway, have a good night. I’ll be here, alone.”

It was windy. Leaving the house still felt immoral. Shutting the door behind him, Monty frowned. “I don’t like the way he was talking to you.” Monty knew nothing about grownup relationships. Outside of his parents, he had no examples of how they were meant to work. Maybe Monty had been wrong all along. Maybe men owned their wives, the way Orion had tried to own his mother. In a masochistic society, women needed to be protected.

Zina began to walk; Monty followed. “I thought we’d do a lap around the block before heading to the party. Sound good?” It was hard to know what a party would be like. Monty could assume, and it could turn out to be nothing like he expected. Zina walked quickly, so that Monty had to jog in order to keep up. He was the shortest of the children, and certain he had finished growing. There were trademarks of a Zoan child: green eyes, tall stature, small noses. The children of Samantha had thick and curly hair; the children of Lillian had hair that was pin-straight.

“Sure.”

Trick-or-treating was exciting. Doing it for the first time at sixteen years old gave Monty anxiety. The neighbourhood was welcoming, and most knew him as Zina’s brother. At the end of the street, a short woman and a hooded teenager greeted Zina enthusiastically, and she waved Monty forward. “This is my friend Rian and her brother Sam.” Feeling cold, and suddenly very self-conscious, he stood at his sister’s side, waiting to be spoken to. “This is my little brother, Monty. It’s his first time celebrating Halloween.”

It had begun to drizzle. Monty wore a cloak that was thin and didn’t keep him warm. After waving awkwardly at the woman and the boy, he scuffed his feet on the sidewalk to follow them inside.