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"Can everyone stop talking like I'm not standing right here?"

That earns a laugh. Everyone. Even Carys. The tension breaks. Not completely. Not magically. But enough.

The practical conversation comes later. Documents. Records. Lawyers. Arrangements.

All the boring human things that follow extraordinary events. But the important part is simple. Everyone agrees on one thing. Sayer comes first. Not blood. Not history. Not guilt.

Him.

By afternoon, the town has transformed. Sleepy Hollow becomes what everyone expects.

A Halloween wonderland.

Music fills the streets. Children race from shop to shop collecting candy. People dress as ghosts, witches, vampires, and monsters. I watch Sayer experience it all. Not like someone visiting. Like someone belonging.

He drags Carys into a costume shop because apparently she has "no acceptable Halloween spirit." She returns wearing a black witch hat. She narrows her eyes.

"Say something."

"You look terrifying."

"Good."

"That wasn't an insult."

She smiles.

"I know."

Sayer appears holding a pumpkin.

"Rhett."

I look over.

"Yes?"

"I need help."

"With what?"

"Carving."

I look at the pumpkin. Then at him.

"You're asking the man who spent his entire career cutting through things to help you?"

"Exactly."

Carys laughs.

"This should go well."

It does not. The pumpkin ends up looking less like a traditional jack-o'-lantern and more like something that survived an encounter with a chainsaw. Sayer studies it.

"I like it."

I nod.