I didn’t believe in ghosts.
And I knew exactly how to find out what was happening.
That evening, after dinner, I told my husband what Owen had seen.
He suggested it might have been teenagers playing Halloween pranks.
“Then those teenagers need to find another hobby,” I replied.
“Should I call an exorcist?”
Once Owen was asleep, I went into the garage and retrieved his decorations.
I didn’t put everything back. Just the cardboard ghost, a painted pumpkin, and the orange lights.
My husband watched from the doorway.
“What are you doing?”
“Inviting our ghost back.”
Something white moved.
He raised an eyebrow. “Should I call an exorcist?”
“Just keep an eye on Owen.”
I switched off the living room lights and settled beside the window with my phone and a cup of coffee.
For nearly two hours, nothing happened.
Then, shortly before midnight, something white moved beside our hedge.
