Ryan stared at the man in the yellow clown costume.

For a full minute, neither of them spoke.

The only sound inside the old house was the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs.

Finally, Ryan pointed at the plate of cookies.

“So…”

“You’re offering cookies instead of haunting people?”

The clown nodded seriously.

“They’re homemade.”

Ryan frowned.

“I thought ghosts offered curses.”

“I ran out of curses three years ago,” the clown replied. “Cookies are cheaper.”

Ryan couldn’t help laughing.

“This is the strangest night of my life.”

The clown smiled proudly.

“I hear that a lot.”

Ryan carefully took one cookie.

“If this is poisoned…”

“It isn’t.”

“If I turn into a ghost…”

“You’ll finally believe in them.”

Ryan took a bite.

His eyes widened.

“Wow.”

“These are actually amazing.”

“I know.”

“My grandmother’s recipe.”

Ryan looked around the dusty room.

“You’ve been living here for fifteen years.”

“Yes.”

“Without electricity?”

The clown pointed toward a modern refrigerator hidden behind an old wooden cupboard.

“I have electricity.”

Ryan blinked.

“You have Wi-Fi too?”

“Of course.”

“How else would I watch detective shows?”

Ryan looked at the router blinking in the corner.

He slowly removed his glasses.

“I think my brain needs a vacation.”

---

The clown removed his colorful wig.

Underneath was a man in his early forties with messy brown hair and kind eyes.

“My real name is Oliver.”

“I’m not a ghost.”

“I’m not crazy.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“The jury is still deciding.”

Oliver laughed loudly.

“Fair enough.”

Ryan opened his notebook.

“So why dress like a clown?”

Oliver became unusually quiet.

“It’s a long story.”

“I have all night.”

Oliver walked toward an old bookshelf and picked up a faded photograph.

It showed a smiling family.

A man.

A woman.

A little girl.

And Oliver wearing the same clown costume.

“That was my daughter’s birthday.”

Ryan looked at the picture.

“Where are they now?”

Oliver’s smile disappeared.

“Gone.”

“They died in a car accident fifteen years ago.”

Silence filled the room.

Ryan slowly closed his notebook.

“I’m sorry.”

Oliver nodded.

“After they were gone…”

“I couldn’t leave this house.”

“It was the only place where I still felt close to them.”

Ryan looked around.

The old toys.

The birthday decorations that had never been removed.

The faded balloons hanging from the ceiling.

Everything suddenly made sense.

---

“So…”

Ryan asked softly.

“Why the midnight laugh?”

Oliver smiled sadly.

“My daughter loved my clown laugh.”

“Every night before bed…”

“She would ask me to make her laugh.”

“So every midnight…”

“I laugh.”

“So I don’t forget her.”

Ryan felt a lump in his throat.

The mysterious laugh that terrified an entire neighborhood…

Was simply a father trying to remember his child.

---

Suddenly…

A loud crash came from downstairs.

Both men froze.

Oliver’s smile disappeared.

“You heard that?”

Ryan nodded.

“I thought we were alone.”

“So did I.”

Another loud bang echoed through the hallway.

Someone had entered the house.

Ryan switched off his flashlight.

Oliver quietly opened an old wooden drawer.

Instead of finding a weapon…

Ryan found dozens of rubber chickens.

He stared at Oliver.

“You keep rubber chickens for self-defense?”

Oliver whispered,

“They’re surprisingly effective.”

Ryan sighed.

“I have so many questions.”

Before Oliver could answer…

Slow footsteps echoed on the staircase.

One.

Two.

Three.

Someone was slowly climbing toward them.

Ryan held his breath.

The bedroom door began to creak open by itself.

A shadow appeared in the doorway.

It wasn’t a ghost.

It wasn’t a police officer.

It was…

Mrs. Martha.

The old lady from next door.

She looked at Oliver and smiled.

“There you are.”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for my chocolate cookies.”

Ryan’s mouth fell open.

“You know him?”

Mrs. Martha rolled her eyes.

“I’ve known Oliver for twenty years.”

Ryan looked from Mrs. Martha to Oliver.

Then back again.

“Wait…”

“If both of you knew the truth…”

“Then why did everyone think this house was haunted?”

Mrs. Martha and Oliver exchanged a mysterious glance.

Oliver slowly smiled.

“Because…”

“Someone wanted the whole neighborhood to stay away.”

Ryan frowned.

“Who?”

Oliver walked toward the window and looked into the darkness outside.

His smile slowly vanished.

“That’s exactly the mystery.”

“And if we’re not careful…”

“We might be next.”

End of Chapter 2.