Free The Otherworldlies by Jennifer Anne Kogler Page A

twins dead in their tracks. On the left side of the sidewalk, by the McGraw house, a lone cypress tree swayed back and forth. Fern broke into a cold sweat, and even in the sputtering moonlight, she could tell Sam’s face had paled.
    The combination of movement and noise could have been any number of things: a coyote, a cat, an escaped pet, a raccoon, even an opossum. But Fern and Sam both thought it was a sure sign of danger.
    “Run,” Sam said, in a voice so calm, it seemed less of a command and more of a plea.
    “Wait,” said a voice coming from the general vicinity of the cypress tree. It was almost as if the tree itself was speaking. The voice was female and young—the antithesis of dangerous. The cypress tree shook furiously. Soon a mess of arms and legs spilled out onto the sidewalk in front of Fern and Sam. A girl had fallen out of the cypress tree. Fern leaned over the body and could discern a fanned-out mane of black hair and a tall frame. The owner of the voice was lanky, wearing dark jeans and a ribbed blue tank top.
    “Wait, wait!” said the tree person, who was out of breath and speaking into the sidewalk. As she got up and brushed various twigs, leaves, thorns, and dirt from her body, she looked up at the twins, standing in front of them for the first time. Her almond-shaped eyes blinked curiously at them; her dark pupils were massive. A thin brow and pointed chin gave her face a delicacy. She had the straightest and glossiest black hair that Fern had ever seen, resting just below her shoulders. Sam and Fern recognized the girl immediately.
    “What are you doing here?” Sam stammered, still in shock that this familiar face had cascaded out of the tree.
    “Nice to see you too, Sammy!” Her voice was chipper. Fern took in her red lips and round cheeks. All of her features seemed slightly exaggerated, but they came together to give her face sophistication rarely found in thirteen-year-olds. She turned to Fern.
    “Fern, I’m Lindsey Lin, and it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, extending her tan arm toward Fern. Fern took Lindsey’s hand for her second shake of the night.
    “I know who you are,” Fern said.
    “I figured, but we’d never been formally introduced. I know Sam, here, because he’s in my math class.”
    Anybody at St. Gregory’s would have recognized Lindsey Lin. She was Associated Student Body President for the middle grades, boasted more friends than almost anyone, and was the MVP of the volleyball team three years running. Lindsey Lin wasn’t just popular; she was a social force of nature. She was the kind of girl who could start the fashion of wearing underwear as a hat simply by doing it a few times.
    She was also the person Fern and Sam would have guessed they were least likely to find at midnight getting closely acquainted with the inside of a tree on their street corner. Sam, unimpressed with the social icon in front of them, was all business.
    “What are you doing here, Lindsey?”
    “I was going to go meet you at the grove, but then I decided that we’d just be walking right back to your house, which seemed kind of pointless. I wanted to make sure you were actually going to come. The grove seemed so poetic, you know? But it wasn’t practical and I knew I couldn’t knock on your door, so I picked the tree and waited. I’ve been here for fifteen minutes.” Lindsey caught her breath. Fern had never heard anyone talk so fast.
    “You sent the note?” Sam said. Fern detected the anger in his voice. Was this entire thing another prank perpetrated by one of the popular kids trying to get at Fern?
    “Of course I sent the note,” Lindsey said. “Why would I be here if I hadn’t sent the note?”
    “What did you mean by it?”
    “I want to help,” Lindsey said. “I heard Fern’s disappearing story. My parents would kill me if they found out I was here, or I was messing with the ‘balance’ or whatever they call it, but I knew I just had to help. I just know