The Spirit of Foul Play

The brouhaha in the Hartigan house came to a head on a gray Thursday of threatening thunderstorms. Diego and Nora Hartigan sat on the couch, facing their fuming twin daughters.

Jenny’s face bloomed beat red with the fury she held back. “I was practicing the piano, like I’m supposed to and when I finished, I found Ginny had tossed my toothbrush in the toilet!”

“That’s a lie!” Ginny retorted. “She’s only saying that because she threw my hairbrush down the laundry chute while I was doing my chores! It was just lucky I had laundry duty today!”

Nora calmly spoke up.

“Now girls, you know we have security cameras in every room of the house. I saw you were outside, playing on the swing set almost the entire time we were gone, even though you know you’re not allowed to go outside when we’re not home. So, frankly, I don’t care what happened with your hairbrush or your toothbrush: you are both grounded for being disobedient and lying and will remain in your separate rooms for the rest of the day to think about your actions.”

The twins glared at each other, the proverbial daggers unmistakable. Then they stormed up the stairs and two doors summarily slammed.

Nora turned to her husband.

“What are we going to do with those two?”

“I don’t know,” Diego said. “But I do have to figure out why our cameras are suddenly glitching. The feed going in and out randomly makes it impossible to know which one of them is telling the truth about their toiletries.”

“True. But they went outside and lied about that, so they need to learn their lesson, regardless.”

“Right. But I’m still gonna go check the cameras.”

“Okay. I’ll go make lunch.”

The newly arrived and most mischievous ghost of Hartigan house just chuckled to herself as the first of the thunder rumbled.

“Oh, playing with these people is going to be such fun!”

Lightning flashed. The first of the storms had begun.