“Obviously our sisters are vampires,” Mava said. “They dress in black, they’re evil, and they suck!”

Peggy laughed. Her friend was like the one good person in the world, and she was genuinely funny. Unlike big sister Tiffany, who came up with material like “Look, it’s Eggy Peggy, the ugly little troll!”

Mama would chuckle at that, because Mama obviously had a favorite daughter, and it wasn’t Peggy.

Tiffany took advantage of this privilege, and cruelty to Peggy was the whole point. As a senior, she turned the other girls at high school against her. She tormented her at home. She even dumped salt in the fish tank, and got away with it: “Eggy Peggy must have fed them too much. Just like she feeds herself.”

Mama loved that one too. So clever: her pretty, favorite daughter.

Tiffany was evil, but a vampire? Peggy had to admit: probably not. She loved staying out all night (never getting in trouble for it, of course) but was also fine doing selfies in the midday sun. No problem with sunlight.

No problem with the garlic in Mama’s cooking, either. Or long showers, which surely would count as running water. She wore a cross pendant, and if that wasn’t going to kill her, the tattoo wouldn’t either. And finally, Tiffany could obviously see herself in the mirror. That was one of her favorite pastimes.

It was looking like her sister was not a vampire at all.

Even now, the bright morning sun beamed in through the bedroom window, bathing Tiffany’s sleeping form in clean, ironically angelic light. Good thing she slept on her back, Peggy thought. That might be the most considerate thing she’d ever done.

Peggy raised the sharpened wooden stake, formerly a chair leg; took a breath, and plunged it in Tiffany’s chest. It was a good strike, between the ribs. Her sister’s eyes snapped open immediately, and Peggy felt the terror of a 15-year-old girl with no backup plan. She was all in. She shoved the stake in further, and stirred it like a chef working a vat of dough.

Tiffany thrashed a bit, and tried to say something, but only blood burbled out. There was a lot of blood. But she didn’t turn into dust, she didn’t transform, and her eyes didn’t turn red or yellow. There was only hate there, and life; perhaps a minute later both were gone. Tiffany finally lay still.

Peggy had been holding her breath the entire time. That wasn’t like the movies at all, but it worked. The results were good.

She couldn’t wait to tell Mava.