It was late, probably too late. Her father would ground her for ages had he known she had snuck out. Either way, she made her way up the path to the treehouse, her barefeet making no noise as she went. She hauled herself up the ladder and rapped lightly on his door. Her feet rocked back and forth as she waited for a response. After a few moments, she knocked again. “Probably sleeping,” she mumbled to herself.