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My eyes snap to my son. “Nonsense.” I pluck the first costume I see from the wall. “This is the one. For sure.”

Owen frowns at me. “I’m not being—” he leans in to read the description. “Elvira. What even is Elvira.”

I replace the costume on the wall, plucking another with faintly more care. “This is the one.”

“Dad.” Owen deadpans.

“I want to be a princess,” Mabel declares. “With a crown.”

“The crown is a must,” I tell Mabel. I look again to Owen. “Why don’t you be prince charming?”

“Yes!” Mabel cries. “You can be my prince.”

“I can’t be your prince, I’m your brother.”

Mabel’s brows furrow in confusion. I say, “But you could be Harlow’s prince.”

Two red flames appear on Owen’s face. “Dad.”

“What?” I ask innocently. “We’re Trick-or-Treating with them this year.”

The red in Owen’s cheeks deepens. I really fucking hate that I won’t be here to see how their story plays out.

I pluck another costume from the shelf. “What about this one? Third time’s a charm.”

“You’re not even trying,” Owen accuses. “I need boobs for every costume you pick.”

I flip the costume over to find that he would, indeed, need boobs to fill it. “My bad.”

Owen nods. “Yeah.”

I roam down the aisle before coming to the costume. “Now, this is the one.”

Owen sighs at the pirate costume. “Mom’s going to want to do makeup on my face.”

“Most definitely, yes.”

Owen sighs, defeated. “Fine.”

“Excellent.” I hand him the costume. “And now for the princess.”

Today is a bad day.

Today is the day I tell my parents.

I thought about doing this in a restaurant, but then I thought about Owen telling me he was dying, and my breakfast turned to acid inside my belly.

I decided to ask them to the house. I asked them to get Faye to hold down the fort at the office.

I still haven’t told her.

But I need someone to know aside from Tanner. The oncologist was right, I need support—and someone is going to need to be here for Faye and my kids when I can’t be. Someone needs to prepare, so they can support her. Support them.

That someone needs to be my parents.

They can grieve me while I’m here. I need them to be strong for my family when I can’t be any longer.

Is it an unfair ask? Probably.