00:00Take one. Only one. That was the rule on our street, and everyone obeyed it. Everyone, except the kids who
00:08never came home.
00:10Every Halloween, Mrs. Abernathy set a crystal candy bowl on her porch. Homemade taffy, wrapped in wax paper twists. And
00:21beside it, a small handwritten sign. Take one.
00:27The older kids whispered about it at school. Tommy Beck took two in 87. The Reyes twins took two in
00:352003. Nobody ever saw them again. Their pumpkins rotted on their porches. Year after year.
00:44I was 16 that year. Too old for trick-or-treating, my mother said. But I went anyway. I took
00:53one taffy, like always. Golden warm from the porch light. I slipped it into my pocket and waited.
01:02Then a little boy in a pirate costume ran up the steps. He reached into the bowl and grabbed a
01:08fistful. Two, three. Mrs. Abernathy's smile didn't move.
01:14Take one, she said again, softer this time.
01:19He laughed and ran off down the street. But I saw it. The taffy in his hand wasn't golden like
01:26mine. It was dark. Almost black. Like something burnt.
01:33That night, his mother knocked on every door on the street. By midnight, the whole block was searching with flashlights.
01:43I unwrapped my single taffy.
01:45Inside the wax paper, was a tiny folded note. It had his name on it.
01:52At midnight, I went back to her porch. The bowl was still full. I counted the candies, my hands shaking.
02:00One for every missing kid. And tucked inside each wrapper, a name.
02:06She was standing in the doorway.
02:09You took one, she whispered. That's why you're still here.
02:14She held out the bowl. One dark candy left at the bottom. He took two, she said. Someone has to
02:23take his place.
02:24I ran. I ran. Behind me, I heard wax paper unfolding. Slow. Patient. Like it had all the time in
02:34the world.
02:35Now. Every Halloween. I leave a crystal bowl on my own porch. With a handwritten sign.
02:44Take one. Only one.
