It was only a few days from the bonfire, and I knew I needed to act fast. After waiting so long for the perfect chance to strike, to no avail, I decided to just create one myself.

My mom had problems with nightmares just like me, and I knew she took a pill every few days to help her sleep. I stole the whole box.

She didn't seem to notice. She had a couple of them lying around, so why would she notice one went missing? So far so good.

That night, we had spaghetti carbonara and a big salad. It was a Friday, so we were allowed a glass of Coke as well. I watched the lemon slice and ice clinking together in my glass and felt sick to my stomach. 

While I'd prepared drinks, I'd slipped the pills that I'd ground into a powder into my parents' drinks. Not enough to hurt them—the fire would do that—but enough for them to be fast asleep when it happened.

"Dig in," Dad said, giving me a conspiratorial smile. 

I hated that he did that. It made me feel like he thought I was part of the plan. The plan they'd started telling me more and more about, almost giddy that they could share the grisly details of my sister's death with someone else.

I didn't want to know that the whole town was in on it.

I didn't want to put either of my sisters in danger.

But I knew I needed to act fast, or they'd act on my behalf.

Soon after dinner, Mom and Dad got sleepy, but they weren't suspicious at all. I was nervous when they sent us to bed early, but they went to their bedroom too, and only an hour later, I could hear the sound of my Dad's snoring through the wall.

I snuck out of my room to get Ginger first. She had her own room since she was older. She was almost eighteen, the age where she was already interested in boys while Astor and I still thought they were yucky. 

I walked into her room and woke her up gently. She slept amidst a jungle of stuffed toys, with boy band posters on the walls.

"Ginger," I whispered. "You have to wake up, please."

She grumpily opened her eyes and rolled them when she saw it was just me.

"What do you want?" she groaned. "I'm sleeping."

"You need to help me. I think I got my period."

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Allegra. Are you okay, darling?"

"Yes." I nodded impatiently. "But can you come with me to the gas station to pick up some… you know."

"We have some here," she said, getting up.

"I don't want those," I hurried out. "I need pads. Come with me, please?"

"Okay."

"Astor woke up when I did. She can come too, right?"

"Sure," Ginger said, a smile on her face. "Hey, maybe this will be fun. Three sisters out on the town. Mom and Dad will never know."

I smiled and nodded.

"You get Astor," I told her. "I'll just jump in the shower. I'll meet you in ten minutes at the playground on the corner, okay?"

"Okay."

As if on second thought, she pulled me closer and kissed my cheek. It made me smile.

I rushed out of the room and into the bathroom the three of us shared, turned the water on and splashed my face. I waited until five minutes were up, then toweled myself dry.

I went to the garage next. The playground where the girls were supposed to be waiting was a couple of houses down, so I knew no one would see me.

Finding the gasoline my parents showed me, the gallons of it they were saving for the bonfire, I rolled one of the smaller ones into the kitchen and started splashing it everywhere. I covered the floor in gasoline, then the stairs, and hallway. Once I was done, I put a trail of gasoline to the garage. It was supposed to look like it had just been a spill.

I stood in the garage and stared at the liquid on the floor, then threw a match on it and ran as fast as I could.

My breaths were short when I reached the playground where Ginger was waiting for me, swinging on the set.

"Hey," she said. "Can we go?"

"Sure." I smiled, pretending like everything was okay. "Where's Astor?"

"Oh." Ginger shrugged. "She fell back asleep, so I left her. Just the two of us tonight, I guess!"

I stared at her for a second while her eyes wandered over my shoulder.

"Allegra," she said. "I… I think there's something wrong."

I'd never run faster.

She followed behind me toward the curtain of billowing smoke coming from our house.

By the time we got there, it was ablaze.

Ginger started screaming, neighbors came out into the street, and someone called the fire brigade. I was panicking. I couldn't stop screaming. Finally, I dashed into the house.

No one could stop me. I heard shouting behind me, but I knew they'd be too afraid to follow me into the flames.

I ran up the stairs, and when I reached the upper floor, they collapsed behind me. I stared at the floor below me, realizing I was trapped. None of it mattered. I needed to get Astor out of there.

I could hear my parents' screams from the bedroom I'd locked them in before. 

I ignored it all, running to the room I shared with Astor instead. I burned my hand on the door handle and screamed, the started kicking at the door instead.

The smoke was thick, cloying. I could barely see ahead of me. Somehow, my tiny feet managed to open the door, and I half fell into a room filled with smoke.

I found Astor unmoving in the bed and my heart jumped, fearing the worst. I started shouting her name, and her eyes opened. A huge weight lift off my shoulders when she looked at me, mouthing my name.

Then I was grabbed by a pair of strong arms. I screamed while someone carried me out of the room, crying and shouting for my sister.

Suddenly I was outside again, the dark night sky filled with stars above me. I landed on the grass, grazing my knees, and looked up in tears.

The whole of Hollyhock seemed to be standing on our front lawn. They were all staring at me, with Ginger the only one who ran to me, kneeling next to me and sobbing loudly.

"What happened?" she cried out. "What the hell is going on? Is Allegra all right?"

I just choked and sputtered. I didn't have the energy to correct her, to tell her I was Allegra. I'd changed into Astor's top after my shower, which was probably why she was confused.

Ginger half carried me away. She didn't ask about our parents, and my heart pounded at the thought of them. The memory of their screams was permanently etched in my mind. I would never forget the way they had screamed.

A sick, twisted part of me hoped they never saved them.

We waited. We waited such a long time.

They started putting out the fire.

We waited some more.

They brought our cat, Mr. Mittens, from the garden where I'd hidden him.

We waited.

They told us our parents had choked in there. On the smoke, on the lack of oxygen. They were gone.

Ginger dropped to her knees and cried for them.

I didn't.

I just stood there, remembering what they had thought me. 

Every night, I got to make a wish after praying. So I prayed again and again, making the same wish every single time.

Please, God, let Astor be okay.

Finally, the last fireman came out of the house and took his hat off before approaching us.

"Girls," he said solemnly. " I'm afraid we couldn't save anyone but you, young lady, and the cat."

"W-what?" I stuttered.

Ginger cried out and clutched me closer to her. “Astor,” she said gently. “It’s okay. It’s going to be all right.”

But I didn’t believe her. It would never be all right again.

I didn’t realize I was screaming, trying to break away from her suffocating embrace. I heard the sound as if from far away as I twisted angrily in her arms.

“It’s okay,” she kept telling me over and over again. “It’s okay, Astor. It’s going to be okay.”

I pushed her away, yelling like a madwoman, tearing at my hair, the grass, and sobbing wildly.

This couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be happening. Astor needed to be okay.

But she wasn’t.

The firemen and police confirmed to us and the neighbors that there were three bodies in the fire.

I stared ahead for hours after, with Ginger sobbing on the ground next to me. She’d answered the firemen and policemen’s questions, but nobody so much as approached me. I guess it was visible from the way I was shaking, crying hysterically, that I was useless when it came to questions.

“Astor,” my sister whispered, kneeling next to me what felt like hours later. “I… they’re saying you did this. That you killed them.”

I glanced up into her eyes. She looked broken.

It was all my fault.

I retreated into the recesses of my mind where none of it mattered.

That Astor was dead. That my sick parents were gone. That Ginger knew it was all my fault.

“It’s okay,” she said gently. “Just tell me the truth, Astor, please.”

I looked at her, not knowing what to say. How could I possibly explain? She would never believe me anyway. And now we were doomed to stay in this goddamned town forever.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered through the tears, and her eyes widened.

“We won’t tell anyone,” she rushed out. “No one will know what you’ve done. We have to protect you, okay?”

“Okay.”

She pulled me in close. She didn’t ask why, didn’t want to know. For her, it was enough that I'd admitted what I’d done.

Standing in my sister’s embrace made me think I could get away with it. Until my eyes caught Mr. Smith’s.

He was a friend of the family, and he was standing by the house, eyes filled with tears and his lungs full of the smoke from the ashes.

He was looking right at me, and I felt like he saw me stripped bare to my soul.

He knew.

I wasn’t sure what exactly, but based on the way he looked at me, he must’ve known I wasn’t Astor. Even Ginger didn’t realize it, but Astor was always Jonathan’s favorite.

I locked that information in the corner of my mind, deciding not to pay it any attention until I had to. I needed to focus on getting my sister and I the hell out of Hollyhock.

We were introduced to a therapist from the nearest big city afterward. She wasn’t from Hollyhock, wasn’t a local. Maybe she would believe me when I told her what my parents were planning on doing to Astor.

They took us to the police station, separated us. I cried when they took Ginger away, and she did too. Not one of them acknowledged it. I was instructed to talk to the therapist first.

I sat in her office surrounded by toys and refused to say a thing at first.

I didn’t tell her I was Allegra.

I didn’t tell her about my parents.

I didn't say a word until I was convinced she really had no ties to Hollyhock.

She told me she’d been called from the city specifically for this case. She’d made the two-hour drive to be there. Finally, I grew brave enough to admit the truth to her.

“I have to tell you something,” I told her, my voice soft but desperate.

She leaned forward, a friendly smile on her face. “Go ahead, Astor,” she said. “Tell me.”

“I… my parents,” I started. “They aren’t… weren’t good people. I had to do this.”

Her eyes widened.

“What did you have to do, Astor?”

“Set fire to the house. I got Ginger out of there, but it was too late for my sister. They were going to hurt her.”

“Who?”

“My parents,” I said patiently, as if I were explaining things to a small child. “And the people in town. They wanted to burn her at the bonfire.”

“Your parents wanted to burn your sister at the bonfire,” she repeated carefully, then scribbled something in her notebook. “So you decided to kill them.”

“Just them. Not my sister. Not Astor.”

“But your name is Astor.”

I just stared at her as she put her pen and notebook down.

“I’ll be right back, Astor,” she said, smiling before leaving the room. I heard the lock clicking shut behind her.

When I was alone, I found a camera with a red dot blinking in the corner of the ceiling. I stared right into it.

I waited for ages. Finally, my curiosity got the best of me and I leaned over to read the therapist’s notes.

Astor Adley.

Delusional. Obvious sociopath. I swallowed thickly. Did she really think that? I kept reading, but it only got worse from there.

Pyromaniac.

Possibly self-harming.

Admitted to hurting her parents and wanting to kill them.

She got that all wrong, I thought angrily. She's going to mess it all up.

I stared at the words until they began to dance before my eyes when my vision blurred with tears.

The last words stuck the most.

A danger to herself and others.