The occasional fake pumpkins and spiders that decorated the front yards and fences in the street struck Carver as oddly inappropriate. The local residents didn’t need to furbish their neighborhood with fake spookiness. Not when true fear had seeped into their lives. Just hours ago, Nathan had paced this very sidewalk like he’d done dozens, if not hundreds, of times before. Following life’s motions. And then something had swept in and taken him. The illusion of safety shattered. Trick-or-treating would be tense on the block this year, with the parent chaperones sticking very close to their
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