The time was around 8 p.m., just as Roy and his group were leaving UCLA.
It was also the moment when Dahlia's daughter, Ceci, was heading out to go trick-or-treating.
"Mom, I'm heading out!"
"Ceci, make sure you're polite when you ask for candy, okay?"
"Got it, Mom!"
"And don't go anywhere with too few people!"
"I know, Mom!"
Dressed in a Little Red Riding Hood outfit, Ceci grabbed a small basket and skipped out the door.
As soon as Ceci left, Dahlia set aside what she was doing, changed into a disguise, and followed her daughter. Though Dahlia wasn't short on money anymore and had moved into a high-end apartment complex with much better security than their old neighborhood, she was still worried about Ceci's safety. So, she quietly trailed behind her.
Ceci had no idea her mother was tailing her in disguise. She headed straight to a neighbor's apartment on the first floor, someone she knew well.
She knocked on the door.
"Who's there?"
"Grandma Stephanie, it's me, Ceci!"
The door opened, revealing an elderly woman with a warm, kind smile.
"Oh, my little Ceci! You look so adorable today! Here for some candy?"
Ceci nodded eagerly and held out her hand. "Trick or treat!"
"Of course, of course! I've got something ready for my little Ceci!"
The old woman pulled out a large basket filled with colorful candies. Ceci reached in and grabbed two handfuls, stuffing them into her basket. Her hands were small, so she only managed to grab about thirty or forty pieces.
"Ceci, don't you want a bit more?" Stephanie asked.
Ceci shook her head. "No, thank you, Grandma Stephanie. This is plenty. I'll get some more from other people, so you can save these for the other kids!"
Stephanie patted Ceci's head affectionately. "What a good girl! Oh, wait, I have a little gift for you!"
She went back inside and returned with a lollipop—a flat, stick-mounted candy like the ones in Kung Fu.
"This is for you too!"
"Thank you, Grandma Stephanie!"
Ceci happily unwrapped the lollipop and popped it into her mouth. It was so big she could only fit part of it in.
"Glad you like it!" Stephanie said.
"Grandma Stephanie, I gotta go. See you next time!"
"Alright, be safe out there!"
Ceci waved goodbye, basket in one hand and lollipop in her mouth, as she skipped out of the apartment.
Stephanie watched her go, about to close the door when she noticed a woman in a ghost costume coming down from upstairs. The costume was stretched tight over an undeniably striking figure.
"Who are you?" Stephanie asked.
"Mrs. Stephanie, it's me, Dahlia."
"Oh, Mrs. O'Connor! Why are you dressed like that?"
Dahlia gave an awkward smile. The ghost costume was something the "sister squad" had prepared to mess with Roy tonight. Though she wasn't joining them in Beverly Hills, she'd brought the costume home. With nothing else suitable for a disguise, she'd thrown it on to keep her face hidden from Ceci.
"I'm just worried about Ceci, so I'm following her to keep an eye out," Dahlia explained.
"Ohhh," Stephanie said, giving her a knowing look and a wink. "Looking for a new dad for Ceci, huh? I get it. I was wild in my younger days too!"
"No, no, Mrs. Stephanie, it's not like that!" Dahlia protested.
"Don't worry, Mrs. O'Connor. Ceci's been gone for a bit—better not lose her!"
Stephanie's gossip-hungry expression ignored Dahlia's protests, leaving her no choice but to hurry after her daughter.
Luckily, Ceci hadn't gone far. She'd stopped at the apartment entrance, seemingly planning her trick-or-treat route. The neighborhood had plenty of people she knew, and she was strategizing her stops.
After mapping out her plan, Ceci headed toward her first destination.
Half an hour later, Ceci sat on a park bench, inspecting her haul. The basket Dahlia had given her was brimming with at least two hundred candies, which thrilled her to no end.
"Mom says I can only eat five candies a day. How many days will this last?"
Ceci started counting on her fingers but quickly ran out. "What do I do? I don't have enough fingers to count!"
She scratched her head. Having just started elementary school this year, and with America's "happy education" system, she hadn't yet mastered multiplication or division. After puzzling over it, she decided to take the candies home and let her mom figure it out.
Unbeknownst to Ceci, Dahlia was watching from behind some nearby bushes.
"Should I go get more candy?" Ceci wondered.
Her basket was already full, but her pockets still had room. After some thought, she decided to try her luck and fill her pockets too. That way, she'd have enough candy to last until Christmas.
Ceci hopped off the bench and skipped toward the neighboring community. Dahlia quickly followed, but her sneaky movements caught the attention of an FEA agent patrolling the park.
"Freeze! LAPD! What are you doing?"
To avoid blowing their cover during Halloween, FEA agents used special LAPD badges for enforcement, which carried more weight with civilians.
Dahlia threw her hands up, terrified that the two agents nearby might draw their guns and empty their clips. But she forgot she was in a wealthy area's park, where the police were less trigger-happy than in rougher neighborhoods.
"I'm the mother of that little girl who was just here! I was worried about her going out alone, so I followed her to keep an eye out!" Dahlia explained.
The two FEA agents approached, sizing her up. "Ma'am, let's see your driver's license."
Dahlia carefully pulled her wallet from her pocket and handed over her license. The agent glanced at it, the name ringing a bell.
"Dahlia O'Connor… I think I've heard that name before. Jess, check with dispatch."
The other agent radioed in, and dispatch quickly responded. "Dahlia O'Connor is on the cooperative list."
"Copy that."
After confirming Dahlia's identity by having her show her face, the agents apologized. But by now, Ceci had been gone for five minutes, leaving Dahlia frantic.
"What am I going to do? I can't find my daughter!"
"Ms. O'Connor, how about we help you look for her?" the agents offered, feeling guilty.
"Thank you so much!" Dahlia said gratefully.
Meanwhile, Ceci, oblivious to her mother's near-arrest, skipped into the neighboring community and knocked on a house's door. A thin Latino man answered, but before she could say "trick or treat," he slammed the door shut.
Startled, Ceci moved on to another house, feeling a bit upset.
Then she noticed a man leaning against a streetlamp, dressed in a yellow suit and a white clown mask. (You probably remember this clown, right?) He was tall and imposing, and Ceci instinctively felt a twinge of fear.
What scared her more was that the yellow-suited clown was walking toward her, step by step.
Frozen with panic, Ceci didn't know what to do. As the clown's shadow loomed over her, she looked up in terror—only for the clown to suddenly hand her a small yellow flower.
Her fear melted into delight. "Is this for me?"
The clown nodded, and Ceci happily accepted the flower. Then, he started performing magic tricks, making her laugh and clap with glee.
After watching for a bit, Ceci remembered her mission. "Sorry, uncle, I can't watch anymore. I still need to get more candy."
The yellow clown tipped his hat and watched her go.
As Ceci turned, she nearly bumped into a group of people dressed as clowns. Compared to the yellow clown's polished look, these guys were a mess—wearing garish, mismatched clothes and crude makeup.
Thanks to the yellow clown, Ceci wasn't as scared of clowns anymore, so she started to walk past them. But a sinister hand grabbed her shoulder.
"Look at this, a Little Red Riding Hood!" one of them sneered.
Ceci's eyes widened as she noticed the weapons tucked into their clothes.
"Anderson, if she's Little Red Riding Hood, what does that make you? The Big Bad Wolf?" another mocked.
"Heh, maybe a werewolf!"
"What do you want? Let me go!" Ceci struggled, but at eight years old, she was no match for an adult's grip.
The clowns laughed at her efforts, but mid-laugh, the one holding her suddenly felt his grip loosen. He looked down to find he was holding… a Little Red Riding Hood doll.
Their laughter stopped cold. Stunned, they realized Ceci was now standing next to the yellow clown across the street.
Ceci herself was just as confused—she'd only felt a blur before finding herself in a new spot.
The clowns glared at the yellow clown, who leaned on his cane with an air of smug confidence.
"Hey! Was that your trick?" one demanded.
The yellow clown pointed to himself as if to say, Who, me?
"Yeah, you! Don't think you can act all high and mighty just because you're dressed fancy. Hand over anything valuable, now!"
The clowns brandished an assortment of weapons—crowbars, bats, wrenches—looking like a ragtag mob.
Turns out, these "clowns" were part of a criminal gang. Every Halloween, Los Angeles saw a few crimes like this, as the holiday's costumes and masks made it easy to avoid suspicion. It was the one day you could walk around in a disguise without getting questioned by the cops.
Ceci now remembered her mother's warning not to go to deserted areas. This community, it turned out, was one of those quieter, shadier spots. In Los Angeles, one street could separate a wealthy area from a rough one—one side full of glitz, the other a dark jungle.
Being so young, Ceci didn't know the difference between a rich neighborhood and a poor one, so she'd wandered into a bad area. That's why the Latino man had shut his door so quickly, likely fearing a scam involving a kid.
Terrified, Ceci hid behind the yellow clown, who now felt like her only source of safety.
Hearing the gang's threats, the yellow clown snapped his fingers and reached into his coat, making the others tense. In a place like America, you never knew what someone might pull out.
"What are you doing?!"
The clown gestured to calm them down, then pulled out a gleaming gold pocket watch.
"Boss, it looks like real gold!" one of the clowns said, their eyes glinting with greed.
"I see it. Go grab that watch!" the leader ordered.
"Me?" a chubby clown asked.
"Yes, you! Hurry up!"
The chubby clown waddled over and reached for the watch. But the yellow clown swiftly tossed it into his top hat and gestured for the chubby clown to reach inside.
"What's this nonsense?" the chubby clown grumbled, but tempted by the gold, he stuck his hand in.
He reached deeper and deeper, but the hat seemed bottomless. Even when his entire arm was inside, he couldn't feel the watch.
Something was wrong. He tried to pull his arm out, but it wouldn't budge, as if an invisible force was holding it.
"What's going on? Boss, help me!" he cried.
The other clowns panicked, the scene defying their expectations.
The leader, losing his cool, pulled out a handgun. In America, no self-respecting criminal went unarmed, though he hadn't thought it necessary until now.
"You bastard! What did you do to Casey? Let him go!"
The yellow clown casually handed over the top hat, and Casey tumbled out, sprawling on the ground—but his arm was still stuck inside.
"Casey, you okay?"
"Boss, my arm's still trapped!"
As the leader stood there, dumbfounded, the yellow clown tucked his cane under his arm and started walking toward them.
"Hey, stay back!" the leader shouted.
Dorothy