"Dad! Have you seen my ears?"

Kit looked up from his son's cape-fitting. "Last I saw 'em they were on the sides of your head."

"Haha," Julia deadpanned. "I mean my cat ears. For my costume!"

"These cat ears?" Jude stepped into the den from the kids' room, pointing to her own head.

"There they are!" Julia squealed while Jude crowned her with the orange furry ears. "Thank you, Jude!" She preened, licking the back of her hand and swiping the ears in a very catlike gesture. "Meow, meow. It's me - Orange Juicy Kitty."

"I'm still not in love with the name." Jude sat heavily on the sofa. "You need some help, Kit?"

"Nah, I got this." He spun his son. "One super hero coming up! Now, fly!"

"I don't fly, dad. I'm Mr. Lightning Wipe." Thomas said. "That's not one of my super powers."

"Oh, I'm sorry. What exactly are your super powers?"

"I control lightning!" Thomas raised his arms dramatically.

"And what else?" Jude asked, grinning.

"Aaaannd toilet paper." He growled menacingly.

"Sooo stupid," Julia murmured, swinging her plush orange cat tail.

"Not as stupid as a stupid cat," Thomas pointed at his sister. "Lightning!"

Julia pointed back. "Bullshit!"

"Hey!" Kit stepped in between them, seeing Jude was both far too amused and far too ill to be any sort of disciplinarian. "Both of you. No bickering and arguing on Halloween."

"Only begging for candy," Jude supplied.

"Get your shoes on and your candy bags. The Whaleys will be here in a minute." Mr. Lightning Wipe and Juicy Kitty set off to gather their things. Kit sat beside Jude, concerned. "I'm worried about ya, Jude. You sure you're gonna be alright here by yourself?"

"Yeah, Kit. I'm fine." She smiled at him. "Just dizzy today. And this headache..." She rubbed tiredly between her eyes. "I can't even think straight cuz of it."

"Ya overdid it." Kit rubbed her back. "Getting these costumes ready for the kids. I should have -"

"I still can't figure out the cat thing." Jude shook her head, distracting him. "Is she - is she some kind of strippah?"

Kit laughed. "I dunno. I mean, a juicy kitty cat or a guy who telekinetically controls toilet paper? Which makes more sense?"

"The toilet paper."

Kit dropped his head onto Jude's shoulder. "I wish you felt like going trick or treating with us."

"Me too."

"Jude." He took her hand. "Do you think it's getting worse?"

"Of course it is." She dropped her head onto his. "But the doctah said it would. He said a year at best."

"I hate it." Kit whispered. "And I don't understand why you won't try this treatment."

"I don't want to spend what could be my last months on earth being poked by doctahs all the time, Kit. Especially if it's not even gonna work."

"They said it could extend -"

"We'll talk about it at my next appointment, okay?" She kissed his head. "December. You said we could spend the day in Boston Christmas shopping for the kids. Remember?"

"I remember." He took a deep breath. Sat up before the kids could see him upset. "Listen. If you get bad tonight, go to the Whaley's house, kay?Somebody will be there. Or at least call. I"m not keeping these two crazies out late."

"I'll be fine, Kit. You guys have fun." Voices outside told them the Whaleys had arrived.

"LIGHTNING!" Thomas whirled into the room, silver cape swirling. He held aloft a roll of toilet paper, the end fluttering dramatically.

"Sooo stupid." Julia said, licking her furry arm beside him. "Meow."

"Jesus Christ," Kit muttered. "Alright let's go! Hugs and kisses for Jude." Jude stood to accept hugs and kisses while Kit opened the front door. "Barbara! Hey, come on in!"

Barbara Whaley bustled in huffing. "Oh, I'm not stayin' long, Kitten." (He hated that nickname.) "I just brought a little treat for our Jude." Indeed, she carried a covered dish and...a broom? "Kit said ya weren't feeling so good tonight, Judy."

"Afraid not, Barbara." Jude accepted the plate and a brief embrace.

Mrs. Whaley's voice dropped as Kit hustled the kids outside to meet the other kids. "Is it the um..." A gesture.

"The cancer?" Jude asked. She was so tired of everyone tiptoeing around it as if it frightened them. It was her damn cancer. And if it scared anybody, it should be herself.

Barbara nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Judy. Sorry that it's gonna take ya from so much joy in this life."

Jude shrugged. "I'm gonna collect as much joy as I can while I can."

"That's the spirit. And speaking of spirit." Barbara lifted the boom. A waft of spices filled the air. "The coven and I made besoms earlier. I made a special one for you." She presented the broom. Jude accepted it graciously if suspiciously.

"Thank you, Barbara. It smells wonderful!"

"The herbs are for healing and strength." The wide lady smiled wisely. "Now, I know you're not into the witchy stuff, Judy. And that's fine. Just know that it's all for good energy and positivity, yeah?"

Jude nodded. She'd learned early on that Barbara Whaley dabbled in what the church would call witchcraft. And at first, she'd been adamantly opposed to any friendships. But she'd come to recognize the love and value in the other woman - and honestly the teas she sent during family illnesses worked better than anything the doctor prescribed. "I appreciate it."

"The plate there is spiced meat cakes and some herbed potatoes. Good Samhain eating." She patted Jude's cheek softly. "Eat up for your strength." She was headed to the door.

They paused there, watching the children run in the bright moonlight. "It's a beautiful night," Jude said.

Barbara Whaley turned in the threshold. "Light a candle or two, Judy. The veil is thin tonight, ya know!"

Jude cocked her head. "What does that mean?"

"It means you could get a visitor. If you're open to it. And if you're not, put some salt down in front of the doors."

"Ah. Right."

"Good night, Judy. Feel better."

"Thank you." She closed the door and made her way back to the sofa, feeling more and more drained. The headache had progressed to a piercing stab occasionally and Jude let out the groan she'd been holding. Doubled over and clutched her face. "God, please," she hissed. "Please let it stop."

And it would stop, she knew. On its own. Typically in a few hours. A few hours of misery and probably bleeding from both nostrils. She carried tissues in her pockets at all times now, prepared.

Deep breaths. Deep, calming breaths. The house was quiet - such a rarity. It was so quiet she heard the ticking of the clock on the mantel. On one deep breath, she caught a whiff of Barbara's broom, propped against an arm of the couch. A pleasant smell. Cinnamon and something unidentifiable.

Another stab. "Ugh," Jude grunted. Her vision went blurry. She clenched her eyes closed. When she opened them, an unmistakable splatter on the floor. "Oh." Blood. Her own blood. She sat up, fighting the dizziness, and fished out a tissue. There was only one. "Hm." She stood, slowly.

It wouldn't do to let the blood dry there. Kit and the kids would see it and be upset.

What time was it, anyway? How many hours had she faded there on the sofa? She could barely focus on the clock as she passed it. Midnight?

She made her way to the kitchen, touching or clutching furniture on the way. There was a dishrag in the sink - still wet. That would work. She leaned against the sink now, waiting for the dizziness to pass. It was taking longer tonight. Perhaps some water, then. She turned on the tap and retrieved a glass from the drain board. After gulping water, she pressed the cold glass to her forehead, seeking relief. And now, to add insult to injury - the lights went out.

At first, she thought perhaps she'd blacked out. She had to blink a few times. The blurry darkness was definitely just that: darkness. "Damn," she muttered. Leaning on the counter, she shuffled toward the refrigerator. There was a drawer they called 'the junk drawer,' and she knew there were candles and matches there.

"Ow..." The pain worsened. She staggered to the kitchen table. A chair clattered to the floor. She practically fell into the next chair. She struggled for a moment to right the candle. Struggled to light it, the matches seeming to flicker out each time. But finally, there was a warm light. Jude put her head on the table. A whimper.

How grateful she was Kit wasn't here to see her this way. Miserable and in pain. Whining like a child. She just wanted to lay down... She could make it back to the couch. But she bumped the table when she stood - quite violently. The candles light danced. Her glass overturned; she scrambled to right it, and overturned herself.

Her body felt so heavy. She'd not felt the floor when she hit it. The floorboards blurred. Her eyes were closing of their own accord, it seemed. Wasn't worth fighting. So she simply surrendered.

The front door opened. Her first awareness in...how long now? "Kit," she murmured. Hadn't the strength for anything louder. The door closed. She looked toward it, vision still blurry. She didn't understand. Kit should be lifting her by now. The children should be fussing over her, worried.

But nothing. Soft footfalls. Too soft for Kit or the children. The candlelight flickered. The footfalls came closer. Blurry black buckled shoes and stockings. Someone knelt beside her.

"Oh, Sister..." Soft hands stroked her face, pushing her hair away.

Jude looked up. "No," she whispered. Impossible, the blurry image. Gentle hands sussed in a habit pocket. Impossible, the sweet pale face dabbing a handkerchief beneath her nose. "Oh, God..."

"I know, I know it hurts." The fingers were warm. She felt so very real. "Let me help you up. Come, come." Hands took hers. Absolutely real hands. A real shoulder beneath her arm. Real hip hitting her own as she was walked back to the living room. "Sit. Lean back." The couch was real, too. The handkerchief was pressed into her fingers. "Here. Hold this." Jude pressed the soft linen to her nose. A familiar smell. She looked at the white cloth. Some fresh blood dots beside the little embroidered cross.

Jude fought the dizziness to watch her guest mop up her blood. "I'll get this up." A soft laugh. "There's so much. How do you have any left?"

"I'm hallucinating." She tried closing her eyes. "They said this would happen."

"I would like to think there are far more entertaining hallucinations than me."

But whether or not she was real ceased to matter. The emotion was real enough. Jude felt tears biting beneath the pain. "Mary Eunice," she sobbed.

Warm arms enveloped her. "Yes, yes."

"I"m so - I'm so sorry."

"Do you feel better now? Getting that out? After all this time? After everything that's happened?"

"No." It was true. She still felt abysmal.

"You were the only one who cared about me." Eunice stroked her hair. They were rocking back and forth a bit. "You knew that I was still there. You were brave enough to try to save me."

"I couldn't."

"You can't save everyone, Sister. And what you were up against..." Eunice chuckled. "It couldn't happen."

"You feel so real."

"You do, too." Eunice's laughter was musical. "This isn't exactly fair is it?" Eunice pushed away a bit. Studied Jude's face. "After everything you went through. Finally - finally some happiness for you and this?" Her thumbs stroked down the sides of Jude's nose. "This evil thing growing in there. Killing you."

"Eunice." Now Jude's fingers explored, too. Gripped the girl's elbows, stroked her cheeks, touched the familiar wimple. "Does your soul rest? Are you with God?"

Eunice's eyes glistened. "I'm going to say yes because there are far more important things to do here, but I will add that the Catholic church's vision is limited to an indescribable degree."

"Wha..." She was fading.

"It's not time yet." Eunice said, mostly to herself. "I'll see you soon enough, Sister. But not this soon. I don't accept it." She took hold of Jude's head, held her by her jaw. "I know you're fighting right now. You were always fighting, Sister. You fought for me. It's time for you to have peace. Some happiness. A little joy. No more pain."

"Will you take me, Eunice?" Jude wept. The pain was threatening to split her head in two.

"No." The young nun leaned forward. Pressed her forehead to Jude's. "I won't take you. That's not my place. But...I'll take something else." Her lips pressed between Jude's brows. "I love you, Sister. And I forgive you - not that you've ever needed the forgiveness. But I know you've longed for it."

Jude nodded. The pain blinked away quite suddenly. "Oh," she sighed happily. "That's..."

"Better?" Eunice asked.

"Yes." Her eyes fluttered. "I'm sorry. I'm so very tired."

"I know." Eunice stood, laying her sister on the cushions. "You need a rest. Sleep now."

"Eunice."

She knelt beside Jude, covered her with the soft afghan on the couch. "Yes?"

"Are you real?"

"No." Eunice smiled. "Be happy, Sister."

"I love you, Eunice."

"I know." The lilting voice faded with the candlelight's flicker. The candlelight was swallowed by the house lights when they blinked back on. Very bright. Jude closed her tired eyes against the light. What a peculiar vision...

"Jude?" A very gentle shaking.

"Kit."

He helped her sit up. "You try to wait up for us?"

"Hmmm. Yes." It was all very blurry. Something had happened... "Where are the babies?"

"Already in bed." Kit sat beside her, looking around. "I had to carry Julia home from the Whaleys because she fell asleep. And Captain Lightning was about to tumble into the brambles he was so damn sleepy. Jude? What the hell happened here?" He gestured to the kitchen. "There's a candle out. Did we lose power?"

"Yes."

"And the damn chair turned over? Did you fall?"

"I was all right."

"You did fall. You passed out, didn't you? Why didn't you call?" He tilted her chin up. "You were bleeding pretty heavy tonight, weren't ya?"

"No more than usual."

He held up a handkerchief. "This tells me otherwise."

She blinked. Took the handkerchief. He was still talking. Worried. Upset that she'd been so sick. Jude stared at the handkerchief. The little embroidered cross. She held it to her nose.

It smelled like Mary Eunice.