It’s Halloween. Rosie has spent the entire day throwing things, devouring an unholy amount of sweets, and somehow—somehow—getting blue paint on the walls. Ben has rolled his eyes at least twenty times. And Mum? Mum is done.

And you? You just want to go to a party. A Halloween party, organized by your classmates. Everyone’s going. If you have any hope of maintaining a social life, you have to get out of here.

But there’s a problem.

Rosie has turned the house into a war zone. Dressed as a princess, she’s more of a troll. Mum and Dad are stretched so thin they might snap. They’re caught in a never-ending cycle of trying to calm Rosie down, just to snatch five minutes of peace.

You need their attention long enough to get permission—before they’re completely out of it.

Your first attempt? Asking directly. That goes about as well as expected.

You approach your dad because Mum, already drowning in Rosie-related chaos, won’t even spare you a glance. You lay it out straight: there’s a party, your classmates are going, and you want to be there.

Simon doesn’t even look up from his newspaper. He simply takes a slow sip of his tea—the same calming tea he’s tried for the twentieth time while attempting to help Ben with his homework—and states, “Nope.”

Strike one. Second attempt? Making a case.

You swear you’ll be home on time. You’ll be responsible, and it’s only for a couple of hours.

Simon snorts softly and replies, “Yeah, so’s my life expectancy when your mum finds out I let you leave.”

Strike two.

You know one thing for sure: if you want to go to that party, you’ll have to be sneaky, clever, or annoy Dad into submission.

Then, just as you're plotting your next move, Emily walks in. Rosie dangles from her arms like a particularly uncooperative cat.

“What’s this whispering I hear?” she asks, adjusting Rosie’s weight with a soft grunt as she drags her toward the couch. “Something I’m not supposed to hear because I’ll say no?”