Emma whipped around. Laurel stood at the end of the hall, a red plastic cup in her hand. “You were?” she asked, her gaze bouncing between the two of them.

“I was just telling Sutton about the ah-mazing time we all had at my back-to-school tennis sleepover a few weeks ago,” Nisha chirped.

Laurel’s cheeks flushed and her plastic cup made a crinkling sound as she squeezed it tighter. “Oh,” she said quietly. Her eyes flickered to Emma and then to the mauve carpet lining Nisha’s hallway. “Oh, Sutton, I’m sorry, I . . .”

“Is it really that embarrassing?” Nisha slapped her arms to her sides. “You came, Laurel. I’d say you even had fun.”

Laurel’s mouth morphed from a smile to a frown to a wiggly line. “It was okay,” she whispered.

Nisha’s eyes gleamed triumphantly. She pulled on her bedroom doorknob one more time for good measure and pushed past Emma and Laurel. She glanced at her father’s room, color draining from her face, and pulled that door shut, too.

After Nisha disappeared down the hall, Laurel peeked at Emma sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Sutton. I know you and Nisha hate each other. But I thought the sleepover was mandatory. I didn’t know you and Charlotte weren’t going to come. Please don’t be mad at me.”

More giggles erupted from the den. The wind gusted outside, pressing up against the windows. Maybe the real Sutton would have been pissed to find out what Nisha had just told her—clearly Laurel hadn’t admitted she’d gone to Nisha’s tennis party because Sutton’s friends were supposed to be united in Nisha-hate. Sutton might’ve interpreted this as betrayal.

But Emma was delighted—relieved. Laurel attending Nisha’s tennis team sleepover meant she had an airtight alibi for the thirty-first. Neither she—nor Nisha—could have killed Sutton.

“It’s fine,” Emma said to Laurel, throwing her arms around Sutton’s sister’s neck so hard she knocked her off balance.

“Sutton?” Laurel said, her voice muffled in the sleeve of Emma’s flowy lavender top.

I twirled in an invisible circle next to the two of them. This was even better than clearing Charlotte and Madeline. My own sister was innocent.

Chapter 14 - An Opening... and a Closing

Chapter 14
Double the Trouble

“What’s all that?” Madeline asked as she flung open the door to her house and stared at Laurel, Emma, and Charlotte on the porch. It was Saturday afternoon, and all three carried paint-spattered jeans, grubby T-shirts, and old sneakers.

“Our costumes for when we go home.” Laurel set the dirty clothes on the porch swing. “I told my mom that Char and I were volunteering with the Habitat for Humanity house-painting crew today. I said Sutton should come, too—I promised it would be a rewarding experience for her.”