

Halloween. As Paula drove down her street, she smiled at the carved pumpkins and ghoulish flags gracing the porches in her neighborhood. The air was crisp and clear this early in the morning. If the weather held like they predicted, tonight would be perfect for trick-or-treating.
The street curved blindly, and Paula eased the station wagon around it. The car was too large for only her and Jack, but they hoped one day to fill it with children. There had been Katie ...
Several blocks ahead, a large maple tree arched across the street, its shadow drenching the tarmac, staining it a deep black. The shadow stretched for the opposite sidewalk, not quite reaching it. A jagged line of bright sunlight separated the shade from the curb. Paula slowed the car to a crawl.
Suddenly a basketball bounced out of the shadow, and Paula’s heart skipped. She couldn’t see into the shade -- it was too thick, too dark, and too far away. But as she stared into the depths, she began to make out a shape, a young child racing after the ball, which bounced off the curb and back the way it came. Paula stopped the car and watched as two slim arms reached out and caught the ball. Through her open window, she heard gleeful laughter, and the child faded back into the shadow.
Katie, Paula thought. But she shook her head. It may have sounded like her daughter, but it wasn’t. Katie was gone.