All around us, the trees blur into a tangle of flickering shadows and shifting shapes. The sun’s nearly gone, dipped behind the ridge, casting long streaks of dusk across the forest floor. Any second now, the last rays of daylight will vanish—and whatever’s out there will have full cover of night.
Bad things happen in the dark.
My mother’s voice—her constant warning—echoes in my ears as a loud snap cracks through the trees. Twigs splintering under the weight of... paws? Feet? Whatever it is, it’s close.
Way too close.
My pulse spikes, adrenaline flooding my system and dulling the ache in my ankle as I stumble back a step, then another. It’s not that I suddenly believe in my mother’s crazy stories, but maybe there’s something to be said for making it home before nightfall.
The dog and I bolt.
I run hard, barely feeling the pain, legs pumping, heart racing like it’s trying to escape my chest.
We don’t stop until Hayes’s house is in sight—and even then, even after locking every door and flipping on every light—I still don’t feel safe.
Because even as I tell myself it was probably nothing, just some stupid animal in the woods that spooked the dog, I can’t shake the feeling that maybe it was something else. Something out there in the dark, watching us.
Watching.
And waiting…
The Monday morning before classes officially start somehow turns intoThe Amber Show. Never mind that I’m starting freshman year of college—my first step into the real world. Because, of course, Amber has to make everything about her.
My sister prances around our tiny apartment like she’s heading to aVoguephoto shoot, barking orders and demanding Mom hurry up with breakfast, so she won’t be late for her first day of senior year. Mom rushes through the kitchen, flustered as she dutifully preps Amber’s favorite green kale and cucumber smoothie and then pours the green sludge into two BPA-free plastic tumblers.
She hands the drinks to us with a big smile, and I try not to gag as I glance down at my liquid breakfast.
Ilivefor sugar.
Pop-Tarts with frosting. Glazed donuts. Gooey sticky buns. Muffins oozing with chocolate chips.
My favorite breakfast is birthday cake pancakes, packed with rainbow sprinkles, drenched in syrup, and piled high with whipped cream. Basically, dessert disguised as breakfast. But I suppose that’s a lot to ask for at 7 a.m., especially when Mom doesn’t have to go to the Artists Co-op where she works until later this afternoon. Her wealthy, stay-at-home-mom clientele would never dream of being up this early on aMonday morning. That’s what nannies and housekeepers are for, obviously.
Still, I smile and thank her for the gross smoothie anyway, trying not to take it personally, even though it kind of is.
She knows I hate health food.
Sometimes it feels like my mother forgets she has two daughters, not just Amber, but I suppose I can afford to be magnanimous today. Hayes is picking me up and treating me to the Coffee Hut before class. It’s my favorite breakfast spot near campus, and they have the best goddamn cinnamon rolls in town.
Right on cue, Hayes pulls up outside the apartment and gives a quick honk. He stayed at his parents’ place last night, and even though I’m technically on his way to campus, it’s still sweet that he offered to drive me this morning. He knows new things make me nervous. New people, especially.
“See you later!” I say, tightening my backpack straps as I head for the door.
“Have a nice day, dear.” Mom waves absentmindedly, rinsing out Amber’s tumbler in the sink.
Amber trails after me, way too eager.
“Is that Hayes?” she asks.
“Mmm,” I mutter, not slowing down.
“I think I’ll go say hi before Brooke gets here. Do I look okay?” She fluffs her blonde curls and smooths the hem of her ballerina-pink chiffon skirt.
“You look gorgeous, sweetie,” Mom says.
Amber eyes my outfit and lifts a judgy brow. “Wait—Ally, you’re not seriously wearingthat, are you? You know Halloween isn’t until October, right?”
I happen to love what I’m wearing: a black skater dress, ripped fishnets, and motorcycle boots. I even spent extra time on my makeup, layering thick mascara with sharp-winged eyeliner. My long black hair is tied into twin pigtails, my signature thin black choker cool against my throat. It’s giving Nancy Downs, my favorite witch fromThe Craftmovie.
