Dangerous Candy

Halloween had always been my favorite time of year, especially now that I had a daughter, Lily, who was old enough to really enjoy it. She was six, and she’d been talking about her costume for weeks—a princess, of course. I’d taken her trick-or-treating every year since she could walk, and each year, we’d come home and sort through her candy together, laughing about the weird costumes and spooky decorations we’d seen. It was a tradition, something simple and fun. But this year? This year would be different. We got home that night, Lily exhausted but still giddy, clutching her overflowing candy bag. My wife was out of town for work, so it was just the two of us. After getting her into her pajamas, I set her up on the couch with a movie, and I started my usual routine—checking her candy, piece by piece. It was something I’d always done, not because I ever expected anything to be wrong, but because, as a parent, you just want to be sure. At first, everything looked fine—mini chocolate bars, lollipops, the usual. But then I pulled out a small bag of gummy bears, and something made me pause. The packaging looked... off. It wasn’t torn exactly, but there was a small puncture near the top, as if someone had poked it with a needle. I frowned, set it aside, and kept going. Then, I found another—a chocolate bar, slightly crumpled, with a tiny hole in the wrapper. I pressed on the candy inside and noticed it felt softer than it should have. Like it had been tampered with. My heart started to race a bit, but I told myself it was probably nothing. Maybe it got crushed in her bag, or maybe I was just being paranoid. But then, I found a third. A small piece of hard candy, the kind that usually comes in a clear wrapper. This one had been unwrapped and poorly rewrapped, as if someone had taken it out and hastily tried to cover it up again. My gut told me something was seriously wrong. Three pieces of candy, all from different types of packaging, and all with signs of tampering? It couldn’t be a coincidence. I looked over at Lily, her eyes half-closed as she watched the movie, oblivious to the fact that something sinister might be lurking in her candy bag. I carefully put the suspicious candy aside and started thinking. Where had we gotten these? We’d hit a dozen or so houses, all in the neighborhood. It had been the usual crowd—families, older folks handing out candy, even the new couple who’d just moved in a few months ago. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. But then I remembered something. There was one house—a little further down the street, toward the cul-de-sac—that we almost hadn’t gone to. The lights were off, and it didn’t seem like anyone was home. But just as we were about to skip it, the door creaked open, and Mr. Rourke, our neighbor, stepped out. He’d given Lily a handful of candy, smiled, and wished us a Happy Halloween. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now, as I stared at the candy in front of me, a chill ran down my spine. I checked the wrappers again, and sure enough, all three pieces—the gummy bears, the chocolate, and the hard candy—had come from Mr. Rourke’s house. My stomach dropped. Rourke wasn’t just some random guy on the street. He was a family friend. We’d known him for years, even invited him over for dinner a few times. He was always friendly, always helpful. But now... I didn’t know what to think. I grabbed my phone and called my wife, explaining what I’d found. She was quiet for a long time before finally saying, “You need to take that to the police. Right now.” I glanced over at Lily, who was now dozing off on the couch. “But it’s Rourke. Why would he—?” “I don’t know,” my wife said, her voice strained. “But you can’t take any chances. Not with Lily.” I hung up and stared at the candy, my mind racing. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I was overreacting. But then again... what if I wasn’t? The next morning, I went straight to the police station. I handed over the candy, explaining what I’d found. They took it seriously, more seriously than I’d expected. They told me they’d have it tested and that I’d done the right thing. Later that week, the test results came back. The candy had been laced with a sedative. Not enough to kill, but enough to knock a small child out. My heart sank when they told me. But what really made my blood run cold was what came next. The police had questioned Mr. Rourke. At first, he’d denied everything, but eventually, they found evidence—more tampered candy in his house, hidden in the back of a closet. When they dug deeper, they discovered something even more disturbing. He’d been keeping notes—detailed notes about Lily. Her routine, her favorite toys, even what she liked to eat. It wasn’t just a random act of cruelty. It was targeted. And it wasn’t just Lily. He’d been watching other kids in the neighborhood, too. They arrested him that same day. I’ll never forget the moment I realized how close we’d come to something far worse than a ruined Halloween. The fact that someone we knew, someone we trusted, could have hurt my daughter... it still haunts me. And now, every year, when Halloween rolls around, I check every single piece of candy. Twice. Because you never really know what kind of monsters are lurking behind the masks.