Poppy described dying on June 13, 1975 at 6:48 p.m., struggling to breathe as blood pooled beneath her. Danny stood over her apologizing, his words and sobs revealing fear and guilt. Poppy’s thoughts flickered through disordered memories—family scenes, childhood joy, and her father’s toasts—framing her life like film spliced out of order.

Pain radiated from the knife wound as Poppy registered details of her room—the new floral bedspread and paint samples—for what she understood were the last time. Danny spiraled into panic, pacing, grabbing his hair, then collapsing in a corner with her blood on his hands. When Danny said, “I’m sorry I hurt you,” Poppy mentally tallied prior assaults: fresh bruises from being grabbed, cuts from being tackled, and the recent destruction of her camera.

Poppy recalled that the night after Danny smashed the camera, he had snuck into her room, drunk, whispering to demand where she had hidden it. In the present, Danny again asked where the camera was. Unable to speak, Poppy barely shook her head and deliberately avoided looking toward her window or closet, thinking Vince would find her diary and film reels and keep searching for the camera to understand what happened.

Her thoughts drifted to earlier times, including playing at the pool and Danny’s once-loud laugh, before she noticed Danny’s absence and worried who would discover her. She did not want Margot to find her, and her parents were away. She recognized that the secret she held had triggered this moment, exploding before she could tell anyone.

Poppy then heard a door close in the house. Danny stood in the doorway staring at her, and she realized Vincent had arrived. She wished she could warn Vincent to leave. As her vision blurred, she saw Vincent creeping up behind Danny, taking in the scene and the blood, and she closed her eyes, unable to watch her brothers confront each other.