The Wrong Girl (Return to Fear Street Book 2)

The room filled with shocked gasps. Ivy nearly fell off her chair. The two cops eyed me with new concentration.

“Would you repeat that?” Raap said quietly.

“Are you confessing to these murders?” his partner demanded.

I nodded. “Yes. I confess.” I let out a sob. “Everyone knows it anyway. I might as well come clean. It will only be a matter of time.” I lowered my head. My shoulders began to tremble.

Marshall jumped to his feet. His body was tense, his arms out from his sides, as if expecting a fight, or expecting me to run. “Poppy, don’t say another word,” he ordered. “I’m going to read you your rights. Officer Raap and I are arresting you for the murders of Jeremy Klavan and Rose Groban.”

I didn’t move from where I was standing. I raised my hands to make it easier for him. I kept my head lowered in surrender. I avoided the eyes of the others in the room.

Marshall strode toward me. Raap was on his feet now, his expression solemn, standing a few feet behind his partner.

“Wait! Stop!” A voice rang out.

Heather came stumbling toward the two officers.

They turned, startled. The plastic cuffs rattled in Marshall’s hands.

“Stop!” Heather cried. “Poppy is a liar. She’s trying to protect me. She—”

“No, I’m not!” I cried.

“Shut up, Poppy. You’re a liar,” Heather cried. “Don’t try to take the blame. I did it. I did it all. Everything!”

“But, Heather—” I said.

“I did it because I hate you, Poppy, and I hate your friends,” Heather said, her voice hoarse and shrill. She spun around, giving everyone a furious scowl.

“You all treated me like I was invisible. You walked past me and ignored me, and you left me out of everything. I hate you all. I hate you! I hate you!”

She swung her fists in a fury above her head. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to me. “When did you figure out it was me?”

I raised my eyes to her. “It . . . it took me a while,” I stammered. “But I realized you knew about the hornets in Mom’s lab. And you were the only other one who knew about the acid I used in the basement.”

I took a breath. My heart was pounding. “And it was so easy for you to come into my room at any time and take one of my scarves to murder Rose with. And—”

“But, why?” Ivy interrupted. “Heather, why did you kill Rose?”

“Because she had no time for me. She dumped me as soon as she and Jack started making nice to each other. Once Jack was in the picture, I was like a bug she wanted to step on.”

Heather took a step toward Ivy. Marshall moved quickly to block her path. She turned back to me.

“That night you threw my trophy into the wall. I knew there was something wrong with you,” I told her. “But I had no idea . . .”

Everyone screamed as Heather pulled a knife from her pocket. The long blade gleamed as she raised it above her head. “I’m not finished, Poppy. I’m so sorry . . . So sorry.”

She dove forward and plunged the knife deep into my chest.