Raegan and Chris have been hanging around each other all night. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t bother me. The way she throws her head back and laughs—eyes closed, smile wide, truly laughing—twists my stomach. I could be the one making her laugh like that. Instead, she acts like a skittish cat around me. And I hate cats.

Raegan’s wearing a black dress with purple and black striped knee-high socks. Her blond hair is hidden under a black wig with a wide-brimmed witch’s hat on top.

Chris has on a football jersey. How original. Right now, he’s gripping her shoulder while he tells an animated story. Okay, buddy. That’s enough.

I make my way across the room, getting stopped several times by parents with questions about lunch accounts and issues outside in the pick-up loop. Principals are never off the clock.

Once I break free from a group of PTO moms, I stride over to Chris. “Hey, man. Can you do me a favor and watch the snack table? Kids are trying to sneak boogers into the punch bowl.”

Chris shudders. “Sure thing, boss.”

Raegan’s nose scrunches after he walks away. “Is it Tommy Monahan? I already spoke to him twice about that.”

“The kid’s going to give himself a nosebleed if he keeps digging in his nose like that. Happened to my brother. He was a picker.”

Raegan’s green eyes peer up me. “You have a brother?”

“I do. He’s three years younger than me.”

“Huh. I guess even Lucifer had siblings.”

I laugh. “Is that one of your names for me?”

She pretends to zip her lips. Then she smiles. “I’ve always wanted a sibling.”

“You’re an only child?”

She nods. “My mom had a hard time getting pregnant, so my parents stopped at one.”

“You said your mom’s a nurse. What does your dad do?”

I wish I hadn’t asked because her cheerful expression fades. “He used to be a doctor.”

“Used to be?”

“He passed away.”

I rest my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It sucks losing someone you love. My grandfather took it pretty hard when my grandmother died. We didn’t want to put him in a nursing home, but he can’t take care of himself.”

“That’s such a tough decision. We went through the same with my grandma.”

I nod. “I feel guilty because there’s only a select few who know sign language. He has to rely on reading lips, which can be hard at times. It will mean so much to him that you’ve taken the time to learn how to communicate with him.”