The entire neighborhood was enchanted by Brad’s display. But I was too drained, struggling just to get through the day. Then, on a typical October morning, everything took a turn.

I walked outside, balancing Lily on one hip and Lucas cradled in my arm, only to find my car had been egged. Shells and goo stuck to the windshield, dripping down in a disgusting mess. “Are you serious?” I muttered. I’d parked in front of Brad’s house the previous night, close to our door because it was easier to manage the twins’ stroller.

Initially, I assumed it was some prank. But when I noticed that egg splatters reached Brad’s front porch, suspicion became a certainty.It had Brad written all over it. Halloween or not, he acted like he owned the curb in front of his house. I could feel my anger rising.

“What?” Brad opened the door, crossing his arms with his usual smug expression. His house was decked out, with cobwebs hanging from gutters, skeletons on the porch, and a witch lounging in a chair — the whole ridiculous setup. “Did you see who egged my car?”