Little Bill rummaged through the heap, tossing aside a pirate hat and a witch’s broom, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I know I left my ghost costume right here," He looked around, hoping it might have slipped behind a pillow or under the coffee table.

Little Bill opened the closet, only to find boxes of old shoes and tangled scarves. "It has to be somewhere," he muttered, a hint of worry in his voice as he knelt to look beneath the shoe rack. The echo of laughter from outside reminded him that time was running out—trick-or-treaters were already gathering.

Little Bill called out softly to the cat, "Midnight, did you steal my costume? Or maybe you’ve seen it?" The cat merely twitched its tail and darted behind a bush, leaving Little Bill with more questions than answers.

Little Bill knelt down, his heart pounding with hope. "This looks like my costume... but why is it all torn up?" He followed the scraps, each step echoing with anticipation and a touch of dread.

Little Bill grinned, his nerves settling. "Guess the wagon wanted to go trick-or-treating too," He hurried back inside, gathering tape and scissors, determined to patch up his ghostly disguise before the night’s adventures began.

Little Bill waved to his friends, his worries forgotten. "Let’s go! There’s candy waiting for us," Together, they disappeared into the Halloween night, Little Bill’s ghostly giggles echoing down the street.