Chapter 1 The wind was already whipping around outside, howling like an angry ghost, when our monster pine tree began scratching at my bedroom window. With its long, gnarled branches and deep groans, that tree''s like something out of a horror movie. Plus, everything on the forty acres of my grandmother''s property that knows how to climb or fly or crawl lives in it, including a terrifying number of little brown beetles. Which is all bad enough during the day, but at night I get to hear the ear-piercing sounds of something-killing-something-else. My nightly lullaby. No wonder my dreams are so messed up. Dad won''t take the tree out, or even trim it back. Says it''s too big and too expensive.
When I suggested he ask Oma for the money to do it, seeing how the tree may be standing next to our house but she''s the one who actually owns it, Stepmommy Dearest cut in, saying, "You need to change your thinking, Ruby. That tree is a goddess of nature!" Easy for her to say from her suite on the other side of the house. And if you ask me--which no one ever does, by the way--she''s the only one pretending to be a goddess. Well, when my dad''s around, anyway. The rest of the time she''s more like the tree. But whatever. My usual solution for the tree is to keep my curtains closed and my window locked tight. Yesterday''s rainstorm must''ve given the tree another growth spurt, though, because the branch scratching against the glass was so loud I couldn''t concentrate on the mountain of homework I still had to do.
Once again, I was going to have to open the window, saw off a branch, and hope no rabid rodent jumped out to fang me. For the record, yes, I keep a sharky-toothed foldout saw in my room. It''s more convenient than storing it in the shed, and having it on hand also means I don''t have to deal with any of the Steps. And no, that''s not the steps that make up the flight and a half of stairs that lead up to my little room in this creaky old house. I''m talking about the capitalS Steps--my dad''s new wife, Vivian, and her two kids, Brielle and Liam. They moved in five months ago while I was at summer camp--surprise!--and are the reason I''m living in what used to be my attic playroom. Anyway, I''d grabbed my saw and was just finding the courage to open my window and deal with the tree when my phone went prr-ring ! I jumped. But just a little, okay? A text is nothing to be jumpy about, even when the wind''s whipping, the tree''s groaning, and the window''s screeching.
Except then I read the text: Are you in your room? I sat down on my bed, puzzled. The text wouldn''t be weird coming from Dad or one of the Steps, but the phone number wasn''t one I recognized. Which--given the screechy-scratching and all--creeped me out a little. So I did what anyone would do. I sent back Who is this? and stared at my screen, waiting for a reply. Screech. Screeeeeeech. Scr-screech! went the stupid monster tree.
My eyes were starting to water from staring, but the screen stayed completely still. No reply dots. Nothing. Screech. Screeeeeeech. Scr-screech! Who in the world wanted to know if I was in my room? I flopped onto my stomach, dangled over the edge of the mattress, and hauled out my hatchet. Yes, I said hatchet. Don''t judge.
I resurfaced in time to hear a message land-- prr-ring ! Open your window! WHO ARE YOU? I texted back. And yeah, my hands were shaking a little. Wavy dots. Stillness. Wavy dots. Stillness. "Oh, come on!" I hissed at the phone. "How hard is it to type your own name?" Prrr-ring ! the phone chimed.
It''s Sterling. Open up. LIAR , I texted back. But then from outside, through the howling-ghost wind and tree groans and monster fingernails on my window, I heard, "RUBY, OPEN YOUR WINDOW!" Whoa. It sounded like Sterling''s voice. So . was she scratching at the window? Texting me? We hadn''t climbed the tree since . well, since before everything broke bad, including the tree.
And even back then, we''d only ever climbed up to the tree fort. We''d never gone out far enough on a limb to reach the window. I yanked open my bedroom door and did a quick inspection of the hallway. Call me paranoid, but you don''t live here, okay? After making sure the Steps weren''t around, I closed the door, propped a chair under the knob, and grabbed my hatchet. Because, you know . just in case? "RUBY! OPEN THE WINDOW!" It was definitely Sterling--my cousin and former best friend--and she was definitely breaking a tightly enforced family law by talking to me. I flicked off the lights, threw back the curtains, pushed up the window, and stuck my head out into the windy darkness. Except .
I didn''t see Sterling in the tree. And . there wasn''t a branch touching my window. So . was this some sort of trick? I ducked back inside and grabbed my Super Tac flashlight. It''s super bright--200 lumens--and has an easy fist-grip and a thumb-press switch, so it''s great for blinding burglars or bears or rabid rodents ready to lunge at you through a curtain of pine needles. And yeah, in case you''re wondering, it also works on the Steps. Anyway, as I lit up the tree with the flashlight, I could see a lot of glassy eyes shining back at me, but none of them seemed human.
"Over here!" Sterling''s voice hoarse-whispered from somewhere to my right. I leaned farther out my window and swept my light around until I found her clinging to a trellis on the side of the house. She was wearing dark clothes, had the hoodie under her jacket up, and was holding a long, skinny branch. "What are you doing ?" I hissed. "Get that light out of my eyes!" she hissed back. I clicked it off and glanced over my shoulder at my bedroom door. Even with a prop lock, I was nervous about getting caught talking to her. "Where''s the rope?" Sterling asked.
"It''s not in the tree fort." None of this made sense. "I''m going to be in so much trouble if Dad finds out I''m talking to you!" I hoarse-whispered. "Same!" she hoarse-whispered back as she worked her way down the trellis to the ground. "That''s why I''m asking about the rope! Did you stash it under your bed?" This infuriated me. We hadn''t spoken in almost a year, and she could still somehow guess where I''d stashed the rope? Even more infuriating, I was in high school now! How was I still the girl who kept a rope--and a hatchet and a saw and stuff I won''t even begin to admit--under her bed? But the truth is, it''s not just the tree that scares me. It''s also the Steps. "Well, if you''ve got it," Sterling was saying, "use it.
" She moved closer. "Unless you can sneak out another way?" "Sneak out . why ? Why are you here?! And why didn''t you just say it was you when you texted me?" "It wasn''t me texting you," she said, ignoring my mini-meltdown. "It was Nick." "Nick?" The name caught in my throat. I wasn''t allowed to talk to him , either, seeing how he''s Sterling''s stepbrother, which makes him my stepcousin, which means he''s caught up in the whole Vossen Family Feud. " Nick knows you''re here?" "It was his idea," Sterling whispered. "He keeps saying the Feud''s stupid and that I should hang out with you.
" She was standing right below my window now, her head tilted way back. "So . do you have the rope or not? I need your help over at the mansion. It''s an emergency." "An emergency ?" The last time there''d been an emergency, our mothers had died in a car crash. "You know what? Forget it," Sterling said, and turned to leave. "I should have known you''d be too much of a rule follower to help me." "What? No! Wait!" Suddenly I didn''t care if I got caught.
Or grounded. Or suffered the Wrath of Dad. If Sterling was finally willing to break the ice, why should I be so cold? "I''m coming!" I whispered fiercely. "Now there''s the Ruby Vossen I''ve missed," she said. And just like that, my heart fluttered open and set the Rules free. I dove under my bed for the rope, where it lay coiled like a fat hemp snake. I dragged it out, tied one end of it around the leg of my bed, and heaved the rest of it out the window. Then I pulled on a jacket, a beanie, and some gloves, stashed my phone, hatchet, and flashlight in my backpack, and climbed out the window.