“Oatmeal butterscotch,” I say doubtfully, and pick it up. The soda is creamy and smooth, the flavor identical to the oatmeal butterscotch muffins my mom used to make. But more than that, it tastes like comfort and happiness. It’s all I can do not to chug the whole thing, to let it wash away the building emotion in my chest.

Anna holds her drink out to Elaine. “To the long and recently dead,” she says gently.

“May they stay that way for the days to come,” Elaine finishes solemnly. They hit the tops of their glasses together and then the bottom edge before drinking.

Eulogy, I think absently. A speech or piece of writing that praises someone or something highly, typically someone who has just died.

Then the words really settle, and a memory sparks to life. “I’ve heard that before,” I say. “My parents used to say it.”

“That makes sense, if they were a part of the magical community,” Anna replies. “It’s something we say to honor people who’ve passed, and to hope for a quiet Samhain.”

She holds out her drink to me. “To your parents.”

Something inside me seizes. My parents must have loved this house, full of music and people and food. They were comfortable in these kinds of places once, before they exorcised them from our lives. Moving so much the last few months was hard on me and Liam, but I know it wasn’t easy for them either. Their lives changed too.

The knot in my chest loosens a little. I’ll find the answers that I’m looking for, one way or another. But in the meantime, they would want me to enjoy this.

It takes me a moment to get my muscles working again, but I grab my drink and knock it against hers.

“To my parents,” I agree.

That’s when the screaming starts.

Chapter 5: Colin

I whirl toward the source, but Anna only sighs. “Here we go again.”

“This is normal?” I ask.

“It’s probably just Max messing with a guest,” she replies, but then a second scream sounds, and a third. The house groans as if bending in the wind, and the lights flicker. Nora and Elaine leap to their feet, trying to calm the guests.

“Oh no.” Anna’s eyes widen, true panic flooding her face, and suddenly I know that whatever this is, it’s not normal.

The ballroom descends into chaos. Guests sprint for the hall or the doors leading outside. I move instinctively in front of Anna, trying to find the threat. “What’s happeni—” I stop as I realize what I’m looking at.