For once, they hadn't opened the notebook.
All four of them were in Vivian's living room, sitting however they happened to: some on the couch, Brittany on the floor with her back against the wall, Ana holding a cup of coffee that had already begun to grow cold in her hands. They had gotten together under the excuse of studying, but no one had taken out a single book.
"Not today," Vivian had said at the beginning, when Brittany glanced sideways at the closed notebook on the table.
"Just… for a while. No clowns. No alleys. No lists."
No one argued.
For almost an hour, they talked about anything else. School. A teacher who had become impossible with deadlines. A movie Madeleine had watched over the weekend that, according to her, was bad but entertaining. Ana even laughed once, genuinely, when Brittany imitated a boy from the football team who couldn't speak without touching his hair every three seconds.
For a moment, it felt almost normal.
Almost.
Until they heard the soft knock against the windowpane.
All four of them fell silent at the same time.
Vivian was the first to stand. She pulled the curtain aside carefully.
Outside, floating at the height of the first-floor window, was a balloon.
It wasn't round.
It was shaped like a dog.
A red balloon dog, slightly crooked around one of its legs, with oversized ears and a drawn face that looked more funny than threatening.
Brittany stepped up behind her.
"No…"
Ana remained on the couch, tense.
"Again?"
Madeleine slowly stood without saying a word.
Vivian opened the window. The cool afternoon air rushed inside. The balloon dog swayed for a second and then, as if it had a will of its own, drifted a little farther in, just enough for them to touch it.
No one spoke.
Vivian, not entirely sure why, raised her hand and ran her fingers over the balloon's round head. The plastic softly crinkled beneath her touch.
"It's warm," she murmured.
Brittany hesitated and then touched it too. Then Madeleine. Even Ana, after a few seconds of resistance, moved close enough to brush it with two fingers, as if she needed to make sure it wasn't a shared hallucination.
The balloon dog allowed it.
For a few absurd seconds, four girls who had seen things that should not exist were silently petting a balloon shaped like a dog, as if that could delay whatever came next.
Then the balloon tightened.
There was a soft sound.
Almost a muffled pop.
The dog deflated suddenly between their hands, without a violent noise, without pieces flying everywhere. Just empty plastic falling onto the windowsill… and a letter that remained floating in the air for a second before settling, folded, onto the coffee table.
The silence that followed was different.
Denser.
Vivian was the one who picked it up.
On the front, in clear handwriting, it said:
To My Employees.
Brittany let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Employees…"
Ana rubbed a hand over her face.
"No way."
Madeleine said nothing. She simply stared at the letter as if it might bite.
Vivian carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper. She recognized it immediately: the same style, the same direct and slightly mocking way of writing as the previous letters. She read it aloud because none of the others seemed capable of doing it first.
---
To my employees:
I already know you're looking for me.
I don't mind.
In fact, I find it entertaining.
You've put together dates, rumors, alleys, and fears with more patience than I expected. Good.
I'm not here to give you all the answers.
Not yet.
I just wanted to remind you of something:
You still work for me.
Even though you now think the job is investigating me.
When I want to have a real conversation, you'll know.
Until then… stay alert.
Don't get too close to the alleys.
That still isn't your job.
—The Clown
---
The sheet trembled slightly between Vivian's fingers when she finished.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then Brittany let herself fall back against the wall.
"He's watching us."
"He's always been watching us," Vivian replied quietly.
"He just wants us to know now."
Ana crossed her arms tightly.
"'Employees.'
As if we're still dealing with the twins.
As if none of the rest of this ever happened."
Madeleine ran her thumb along the edge of the table.
"The worst part is that he's right about one thing.
We were the ones who started putting all of this together.
And he knows it."
Vivian placed the letter on the table, beside the closed notebook.
Their attempt at a normal afternoon had been completely shattered. There were no more jokes about the football team or complaints about teachers. Only the empty plastic of the balloon dog on the windowsill and that sheet of paper that seemed heavier than it actually was.
"So what now?" Brittany asked.
Vivian looked at the three of them.
"Now we can't pretend we're just collecting rumors from a distance.
He just walked into the room."
Ana slowly shook her head.
"I never asked to come back to this."
"None of us did," Madeleine said.
"But it's here now."
---
Far away, in his room, Ryan took off his mask and left it on the table.
He had chosen the letter.
He had chosen the dog.
He had chosen not to appear yet.
He smiled to himself, though not very strongly.
"First move."
He sank into the chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment.
They had the message.
They knew that he knew.
From now on,
the game
was no longer
one-sided.
Ryan closed his eyes for a second.
"Your turn."
And for the first time in several weeks,
the waiting
was no longer
entirely
in his hands.