The Wrong Girl (Return to Fear Street Book 2)
The Wrong Girl: Prologue

My name is Poppy Miller, and I am not a criminal.

Yes, robbing the store seemed like a great idea. It was all supposed to be for fun. My friends and I were bored, and we wanted to be famous. We wanted everyone to think we were brave and outrageous.

And I have to admit I was trying to impress Jack Sabers. Show him how bold I could be, how daring. Sure, I was crushing on Jack, but there was something else. I guess deep down, I wanted to be as dangerous as Jack.

I didn’t really think about it at the time. The robbery idea just came from out of nowhere. And the next thing I knew, my friends and I were pulling black ski masks over our heads and preparing to burst into Harlow’s Pic ’n’ Pay and perform our stickup.

Yes, it was all in fun. Fun. Remember that. Manny had his phone raised, ready to video the whole thing, ready to put our bold robbery online for everyone to enjoy.

But things don’t always go the way you planned—do they?

My heart was pumping—not with fear but with excitement. My skin actually tingled. I’d never felt so alert, aware of every sound, every flash of color.

It was all happening in slow motion . . . Ivy tucking her hair carefully under the mask . . . Jeremy smoothing down the front of his T-shirt as if he wanted to look good on the video . . . Manny’s dark eyes sparkling through the mask eyeholes.

We pushed up to the glass front door. Stepped into the bright light from the store. As if stepping into a spotlight onstage. So totally exciting.

But when Jack slipped the pistol into my hand . . . pushed the little gun into my palm and closed my hand around it . . . everything changed.

We’d never talked about using a gun. It wasn’t part of the plan.

I didn’t want it. I wanted to drop it. I wanted to let go.

But my fingers wouldn’t move. It was as if they were locked.

It weighed a ton in my hand. It was burning my hand. But I couldn’t let go.

And when Mr. Harlow, the store owner, reached into his cash drawer behind the counter, his eyes wide with surprise and anger . . . when he reached into the drawer, the gun went off.

The gun in my hand went off—and my life was changed forever.

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