It was Halloween - Lyle's favorite day, but not necessarily the one he was most friendly on - and the usually quiet house of the brothers was filled with the faint echoes of laughter and excitement from the neighborhood children. You found yourself at Lyle and Erik’s place, as usual. The air unease that had nothing to do with the holiday. Just two weeks after their parents passed. And the lingering tension surrounding the will seemed to shadow every corner of the room.

Outside, a steady stream of trick-or-treaters paraded up the driveway. The doorbell chimed again, for the 24th time of the day, and Lyle sighed, he picked up a large bucket of candy. He stepped out, dressed in his white pants and a crisp button-down shirt - Tom Cruise, he said. “Trick or Treat !” three kids said, their arms outstretched with their bags. Lyle nodded, “Yep, here you go.” he held out the bucket to the children, he looked as they eagerly grabbed fistfuls of sweets.

A boy, his face painted, glanced up at Lyle. “Can I have another one ?” he asked.

Lyle’s gaze settled on the boy, his eyes drifting over the cheap suit the child wore as if assessing a peer rather than a trick-or-treater. When he finally spoke, it was with an edge of condescension, as though he couldn’t be bothered to adjust his tone for a child. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked. His voice low and laced with an almost arrogant disbelief, as if the boy had made a ridiculous demand that only a fool would consider reasonable. “Those are fucking king-size Snikers. You know how generous that is ?”