Maybe I’d say Daisy, but she’s going to be chilling at home base all night. Daisy’s white husky is sprawled across her lap as she digs into a bag of cinnamon rolls that Lily and Loren brought back from a Cinnabon run.

I was kind of surprised Daisy even came along to this, considering she has PTSD, and this place should be hell for anyone who gets triggered by sudden, piercing noises. But maybe she just didn’t want to miss out.

The night is special enough that the Calloway sisters brought costumes for everyone. Albeit, simple costumes, but they thought about that shit.

A flower crown rests on Daisy’s blonde hair, an identical one on Ryke’s head. Lily and Loren sport glittery alien antenna headbands, while Rose and Connor wear these regal golden crowns. I don’t even think they’re plastic. Like, legit crowns. The Cobalts have to be the most extra people I know, and honestly, I can’t believe I work for one of them.

I fix my backwards baseball hat. It lights up to spell out the word boo.

Maybe my costume is a literal flashing hat so that Loren makes sure I don’t ditch them, but I kind of like that it’s loud but not too loud. The flopping antennas would have annoyed the fuck out of me.

I glance up from my phone just to see Connor and Rose still arguing over the route. The park map is spread over the table, and they both brandish Sharpies like there’ll be a test at the end of this. Fastest Through the Mazes isn’t a thing.

“What are you doing?” Rose snaps at her husband. “That is the worst path. You can’t go from Texas Chainsaw Massacre to Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“Why not?” He grins like he knows what she’s about to say but wants to hear it anyway.

“We’re not doing gore back-to-back.” She gathers her hair on one shoulder and traces a line on the map. “It’s better if we do The Ring maze in between.”

A chainsaw roars, pretty close. Girls run away from the masked actor as he chases them. Legally, he can’t touch them, so running away is the wrong way to go. From experience, the actors prey on the people who look like they’re about to piss their pants.

I’m about to return to my phone, but Rose’s voice grabs my attention again.

“Gore does not frighten me,” Rose retorts. “If you don’t believe me, give me a fucking knife and I’ll stab you myself and you’ll see how frightened I’ll be.” She motions to him for a knife.

Connor’s attraction to her threat is clear in his eyes, like he could go down on her on the fucking table right now. Jesus, they’re weird. His grin expands, and he steps closer to his wife.

Loren interjects, “Careful of her talons.”

“She won’t harm me,” Connor says easily. “But I appreciate the concern.”

“I will gut you, Richard,” Rose threatens. Her chin rises as he nears again, towering above her. Confidence mixed with dominance.