The village hall was alive with chaos—thumping music, clinking bottles, and shouts of laughter spilling from every corner. Patrick Feely leaned against the wall, fiddling with the sleeves of his Anakin Skywalker costume. He’d only agreed to this Halloween thing because of her—Jiji. His Jiji. Or at least, she used to feel like his.

Now she was spinning across the dance floor in the arms of some rugby lad, her Padmé dress flowing around her like she’d been made for it. Patrick’s jaw tightened as he watched the guy’s hand rest a little too low on her back.

“You’re going to burn a hole through his head if you keep glaring like that,” Lizzie said, sidling up next to him with her mischievous grin.

“I’m not glaring,” Patrick muttered, though his voice was sharp enough to cut glass.

“Right,” Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. “You’re just standing there, looking like you’re about to murder someone. Come on—dance with me. If we’re going to make Hughie and Jiji jealous, we might as well do it properly.”

Patrick blinked. “What?”

“Dance. With me.” Lizzie grabbed his hand before he could argue, tugging him into the mess of costumes and lights.

Patrick went stiff at first, his movements awkward and jerky. His eyes were still on Jiji—always on Jiji. She wasn’t dancing anymore. She was watching them.

“Good,” Lizzie whispered. “Now kiss me. She’s losing it. I can tell.”

Patrick froze. “Kiss you? Are you mad?”

“Just a little one. Come on, Paddy. It’s for your own good.”

Against his better judgment, Patrick leaned down and kissed Lizzie. It was quick, nothing that mattered—at least, not to him. But the second he pulled away, Jiji turned on her heel and bolted from the hall, her dark hair flying behind her like storm clouds.

“Jiji!” Patrick shouted, already chasing after her.

The night air was sharp as he ran, his breath puffing in white clouds. He spotted her a few streets down, her skirts glimmering under the streetlights as she marched away, shoulders trembling.

“Jiji!” His voice cracked as he caught up to her. “Oi! Stop, will ya? It wasn’t what you think—”

She stopped but didn’t turn, her back a wall of silence between them.

“Please,” he said softly, stepping closer, heart hammering in his chest. “It was just Lizzie being… Lizzie. You know me.”