Then she turned toward Owen. He gave her his sweetest smile.
“Happy Halloween, Grandma!”
Even one of the judges couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“This isn’t funny!” Elaine shouted. “Someone needs to call the police!”
“What does that mean?”
I set down my coffee.
“That’s interesting, Elaine. You weren’t nearly this upset when you were sneaking around my son’s bedroom window wearing a bedsheet.”
The neighbors fell silent.
One of the judges frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You were the ghost?”
Elaine’s face went pale. “She’s making things up!”
“Am I?”
I took out my phone and played the video.
Everyone watched as a white figure approached Owen’s window, raised its hand, and then stumbled when the porch light came on.
“She made him afraid.”
The sheet slipped, revealing Elaine’s unmistakable face.
One neighbor gasped. “Elaine! You were the ghost?”
I explained how she’d frightened Owen for three nights because she was afraid of losing the decorating contest.
