Heartless. Part 1

Pretty Little Liars - Heartless.

by Sara Shepard.

Lost and FoundEver have something really important just up and vanish without a trace? Like that vintage Pucci scarf you wore to the ninth-grade formal. It was around your neck the whole night, but when it was time to head home, poof. Gone. Or that gorgeous gold locket your grandmother gave you. Somehow it grew legs and just walked away. But lost things don't just disappear into thin air. They have to be somewhere.Four pretty girls in Rosewood have lost very important things too. Things much bigger than a scarf or necklace. Like the trust of their parents. An Ivy League future. Purity. And they thought they lost their childhood best friend, too . . . but maybe not. Maybe the universe returned her, safe and sound. But just remember, the world has a way of balancing out: When something is given back, something else must be taken away.And in Rosewood, that could be anything. Credibility. Sanity. Lives. Aria Montgomery was the first to arrive. She tipped her bike onto the crushed-gravel drive, plopped down under a lavender weeping willow, and ran her fingers through the soft, clipped lawn. Just yesterday, the gra.s.s had smelled like summer and freedom, but after all that had happened, the scent no longer filled Aria with liberated glee.Emily Fields appeared next. She was wearing the same faded, nondescript jeans and lemon yellow Old Navy tee she'd had on the night before. The clothes were wrinkled now, as if she'd slept in them. "Hey," she said listlessly, lowering herself down next to Aria. At the exact same moment, Spencer Hastings emerged from her front door, a solemn look on her face, and Hanna Marin slammed the door to her mom's Mercedes."So." Emily finally broke the silence when they were all together."So," Aria echoed.Simultaneously, they turned and looked at the barn at the back of Spencer's yard. The night before, Spencer, Aria, Emily, Hanna, and Alison DiLaurentis, their best friend and leader, were supposed to have had their long-awaited, end-of-seventh-grade sleepover there. But instead of the party lasting until dawn, it had ended abruptly before midnight. Far from being the perfect kickoff to summer, it had been an embarra.s.sing disaster.None of them could make eye contact. Nor could they look next door at the big Victorian house that belonged to Alison's family. They were due over there any minute, but it wasn't Alison who'd invited them over today-it was her mother, Jessica. She'd called each girl mid-morning, saying Alison hadn't turned up after breakfast-was she at one of their houses? Ali's mom hadn't seemed too alarmed when they said no, but when she called back a few hours later, reporting that Ali still hadn't checked in, her voice was thin and high-pitched with distress.Aria tightened her ponytail. "None of us saw where Ali went, right?"They shook their heads. Spencer gently prodded at a purple bruise that had appeared on her wrist that morning. She had no idea when she'd hurt herself. There were a few scratches on her arms, too, as if she'd gotten tangled in a vine."And she didn't tell anyone where she was going?" Hanna asked.Each girl shrugged. "She's probably off somewhere fun," Emily concluded in an Eeyore voice, hanging her head. The girls had nicknamed Emily "Killer," as in, Ali's personal pit bull. That Ali could have more fun with anyone else made her heart break."Nice of her to include us," Aria said bitterly, kicking at a clump of gra.s.s with her motorcycle boots.The hot June sun beat down relentlessly on their winter-pale skin. They heard a splash from a backyard pool and the groan of a lawn mower in the distance. It was typical suburban summer bliss in Rosewood, Pennsylvania, a luxurious and pristine suburb about twenty miles from Philadelphia. Right now, the girls were supposed to be poolside at the Rosewood Country Club, ogling cute guys who went to their elite private school, Rosewood Day. They still could do that, but it felt weird to have fun without Ali. They felt adrift without her, like actresses without a director or marionettes without a puppeteer.At last night's sleepover, Ali had seemed more aggravated with them than usual. Distracted, too-she'd wanted to hypnotize them, but when Spencer insisted that the blinds be left open, Ali argued that they needed to be closed; then Ali abruptly left without saying good-bye. All the girls had a sinking feeling they knew why she'd left-Ali had found something better to do, with friends older and way cooler than they were.Even though none of them would admit it, they'd sensed this might be coming. Ali was the girl at Rosewood Day who set trends, topped every guy's Hottest Girl list, and decided who was popular and who was an undesirable Not It. She could charm anyone, from her sullen older brother, Jason, to the school's strictest history teacher. Last year, she'd plucked Spencer, Hanna, Aria, and Emily from obscurity and invited them into her inner sanctum. Things were perfect for the first few months, the five of them ruling the Rosewood Day hallways, holding court at sixth-grade parties, and always scoring the best booth at Rive Gauche at the King James Mall, kicking out less-popular girls who had been seated there first. But toward the end of seventh grade, Ali grew more and more distant. She didn't call them immediately when she got home from school. She didn't surrept.i.tiously text them during cla.s.s. When the girls talked to her, her eyes often looked glazed over, like her thoughts were elsewhere. The only things that interested Ali were their deepest, darkest secrets.Aria glanced at Spencer. "You ran out of the barn after Ali last night. You seriously didn't see which way she went?" She had to yell over the sound of someone's weed whacker."No," Spencer said quickly, staring at her white J. Crew flip-flops."You ran out of the barn?" Emily tugged on one of her blondish-red ponytails. "I don't remember that.""It was right after Spencer told Ali to leave," Aria informed them, a tinge of irritation in her voice."I didn't think she was going to," Spencer mumbled, plucking a rogue, bright yellow dandelion that had sprouted beneath the willow.Hanna and Emily picked at their cuticles. The wind shifted, and the sweet smell of lilac and honeysuckle filled the air. The last thing they remembered was Ali's weird hypnosis: She counted down from one hundred, touched their foreheads with her thumb, and announced that they were in her power. What seemed like hours later, they'd awakened from a deep, disorienting sleep and Ali was gone.Emily pulled her T-shirt collar over her nose, something she did when she was worried. Her shirt smelled faintly of All-Temperature Cheer and deodorant. "So what do we say to Ali's mom?""We cover," Hanna said matter-of-factly. "We say Ali's with her field hockey friends."Aria tipped up her head, absently following the path of an airplane high in the cloudless blue sky. "I guess." But deep down, she didn't want to cover for Ali. The night before, Ali dropped some obvious hints about Aria's dad's horrible secret. Did she really deserve Aria's help now?Emily's eyes followed a b.u.mblebee as it meandered from flower to flower in Spencer's front garden. She didn't want to cover for Ali either. More than likely Ali was with her older field hockey friends-worldly, intimidating girls who smoked Marlboros out the windows of their Range Rovers and attended house parties with kegs. Was Emily terrible for wishing that Ali would get in trouble for running off with them? Was she a bad friend for wanting Ali all to herself?Spencer scowled too. It wasn't fair that Ali just a.s.sumed they'd lie for her. Last night, before Ali could touch Spencer's forehead and put her under hypnosis, Spencer jumped up in protest. She was sick ofAli controlling them. She was sick of things being exactly the way Ali wanted."Come on, guys," Hanna urged, sensing everyone's reluctance. "We have to cover for Ali." The last thing Hanna wanted was to give Ali a reason to drop them-if that happened, Hanna would go back to being an ugly, chubby loser. And that wasn't the worst thing that could happen. "If we don't protect her, she might tell everyone about the . . ." Hanna trailed off, glancing across the street at the house where Toby and Jenna Cavanaugh lived. It had fallen into disrepair over the past year, the gra.s.s in the front yard badly in need of a mow, and the bottom of the garage doors covered in a thin layer of green, speckled mold.Last spring, they'd accidentally blinded Jenna Cava-naugh while she and her brother were in their tree house. No one knew they'd set off the firework, though, and Ali had made them promise never to tell what really happened, saying the secret would bond their friendship forever. But what if they weren't friends anymore ? Ali could be ruthless to people she didn't like. After she'd dropped Naomi Zeigler and Riley Wolfe out of nowhere at the beginning of sixth grade, she'd banned them from parties, made boys prank call their houses, and even hacked into their Mys.p.a.ce pages, writing half-mean, half-funny posts about their embarra.s.sing secrets. If Ali ditched her four new friends, what promises would she break? What secrets would she tell?The front door to the DiLaurentises' house opened, and Ali's mom stuck her head out onto the porch. Though normally stylish and polished, Mrs. DiLaurentis had thrown her pale blond hair into a sloppy ponytail. A pair of frayed shorts hung low on her hips, and her ragged T-shirt stretched across her midriff.The girls stood and walked up the stone path to Ali's door. As usual, the foyer smelled like fabric softener, and photos of Alison and her brother, Jason, lined the halls. Aria's gaze went immediately to Jason's senior picture, his longish blond hair pushed off his face, the corners of his lips curled up into just a hint of a smile. Before the girls could perform their usual ritual of touching the bottom right-hand corner of their favorite photo from their trip to the Poconos last July, Mrs. DiLaurentis swept them into the kitchen and gestured for them to sit at the big wood table. It felt weird to be in Ali's house without Ali here-almost like they were spying on her. There was evidence of her everywhere: a pair of turquoise Tory Burch wedges by the laundry room door, a travel-size bottle of Ali's favorite vanilla hand cream on the telephone table, and Ali's report card-all A's, of course-pinned to the stainless-steel refrigerator with a pizza-shaped magnet.Mrs. DiLaurentis sat down with them and cleared her throat. "I know you girls were with Alison last night, and I need you to think really hard. Are you sure she didn't give you any hints about where she might have gone?"The girls shook their heads, staring at the woven jute place mats. "I think she's with her field hockey friends," Hanna blurted out, when it seemed no one else was going to speak.Mrs. DiLaurentis shredded a grocery list into small squares. "I already called all the girls on the team's telephone tree-and her friends from hockey camp. No one has seen her."The girls exchanged alarmed glances. Nerves streaked through their chests, and their hearts began to thump a little faster. If Ali wasn't with any of her other friends, then where was she?Mrs. DiLaurentis drummed her fingers on the table. Her nails looked uneven, as if she'd been biting them. "Did she mention coming home last night? I thought I saw her in the kitchen doorway when I was talking to . . ." She trailed off for a moment, casting her eyes to the back door. "She looked upset.""We didn't know Ali came back into the house," Aria mumbled."Oh." Ali's mom's hands trembled as she reached for her coffee. "Has Ali ever talked about someone teasing her?""No one would do that," Emily said quickly. "Everyone loves Ali."Mrs. DiLaurentis opened her mouth to protest but then changed her mind. "I'm sure you're right. And she never said anything about running away?"Spencer snorted. "No way." Only Emily ducked her head. She and Ali sometimes talked about running away together. One of their fantasies about flying to Paris and adopting brand-new ident.i.ties had recently been in heavy rotation. But Emily was sure Ali had never been serious."Did she ever seem sad?" Mrs. DiLaurentis went on.Each of the girls' expressions grew more and more baffled. "Sad?" Hanna finally blurted. "Like . . . depressed?""Absolutely not," Emily stated, thinking about how gleefully Ali had pirouetted across the lawn the day before, celebrating the end of seventh grade."She'd tell us if something was bothering her," Aria added, although she wasn't quite sure if this was true. Ever since Ali and Aria had discovered a devastating secret about Aria's dad a few weeks ago, Aria had avoided being around Ali. She'd hoped that they could put it behind them at last night's sleepover.The DiLaurentises' dishwasher grumbled, shifting into the next cycle. Mr. DiLaurentis wandered into the kitchen, looking bleary-eyed and lost. When he glanced at his wife, an uncomfortable expression came over his face, and he quickly wheeled around and left, vigorously scratching his beakish, oversize nose."Are you sure you don't know anything?" Mrs. DiLaurentis asked. Worry lines creased her forehead. "I looked for her diary, thinking she might've written something in there about where she went, but I can't find it anywhere."Hanna brightened. "I know what her diary looks like. Do you want us to go upstairs and search?" They'd seen Ali writing in her diary a few days ago, when Mrs. DiLaurentis sent them up to Ali's room without telling Ali first. Ali had been so absorbed in her diary that she'd seemed startled by her friends, as if she'd momentarily forgotten that she'd invited them over. Seconds later, Mrs. DiLaurentis had sent the girls downstairs because she wanted to lecture Ali about something, and when Ali emerged on the patio, she'd seemed annoyed they were there, like they'd done something wrong by staying at her house while her mom yelled at her."No, no, that's all right," Mrs. DiLaurentis answered, setting down her coffee cup fast."Really." Hanna sc.r.a.ped back her chair and started down the hall. "It's no trouble.""Hanna," Ali's mom barked, her voice suddenly razor-sharp. "I said no."Hanna halted under the chandelier. Something impossible to read rumbled beneath Mrs. DiLaurentis's skin. "Okay," Hanna said quietly, returning to the table. "Sorry."After that, Mrs. DiLaurentis thanked the girls for coming over. They filed out one by one, blinking in the startlingly bright sun. In the cul-de-sac, Mona Vanderwaal, a loser girl in their grade, was making big figure eights on her Razor scooter. When she saw the girls, she waved. None of them waved back.Emily kicked a loose brick on the walkway. "Mrs. D is overreacting. Ali's fine.""She isn't depressed," Hanna insisted. "What a r.e.t.a.r.ded thing to say."Aria stuffed her hands into her miniskirt's back pockets. "What if Ali did run away? Maybe not because she was unhappy, but because there was somewhere cooler she wanted to be. She probably wouldn't even miss us.""Of course she'd miss us," Emily snapped. And then she burst into tears.Spencer looked over, rolling her eyes. "G.o.d, Emily. Do you have to do that right now?""Lay off her," Aria snapped.Spencer turned her gaze to Aria, canva.s.sing her up and down. "Your nose ring is crooked," she pointed out, more than a tinge of nastiness in her voice.Aria felt for the stick-on, bedazzled nose stud on her left nostril. Somehow, it had slipped almost to her cheek. She pushed it back into position and then, in a rush of self-consciousness, pulled it off altogether.There was a rustling noise, and then a loud crunch. They turned and saw Hanna reaching into her purse for a handful of Cheez-Its. When Hanna noticed them watching warily, she froze. "What?" she said, a halo of orange around her mouth.Each girl stood silently for a moment. Emily blotted her tears. Hanna took another sneaky handful of Cheez-Its. Aria fiddled with the buckles of her motorcycle boots. And Spencer crossed her arms, looking bored with them. Without Ali there, the girls suddenly seemed so defective. Uncool, even.A deafening roar sounded from Ali's backyard. The girls turned and saw a red cement truck positioned next to a large hole. The DiLaurentises were building a twenty-person gazebo. A scruffy, scrawny worker with a stubby blond ponytail raised his mirrored sungla.s.ses at the girls. He gave them a lascivious smile, revealing a gold front tooth. A bald, beefy, heavily tattooed worker in a skimpy wifebeater and torn jeans whistled. The girls shivered uneasily-Ali had told them stories about how the workers were constantly calling out lewd comments as she pa.s.sed. Then one of the workers signaled to the guy at the wheel of the cement mixer, and the truck slowly backed up. Slate gray concrete oozed down a long chute into the hole.Ali had been telling them about this gazebo project for weeks. It was going to have a hot tub on one side and a fire pit on the other. Big plants, bushes, and trees would surround the whole thing so the gazebo would feel tropical and serene."Ali's going to love that gazebo," Emily s aid confidently. "She'll have the best parties there."The others nodded cautiously. They hoped they'd be invited. They hoped this wasn't the end of an era.And then they parted ways, each girl going home. Spencer wandered into her kitchen, gazing out the back windows at the barn where the dreadful sleepover had taken place. So what if Ali ditched them forever? Her friends might be devastated, but maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing. Spencer was over Ali pushing her around.When she heard a sniffle, she jumped. Her mother was sitting at the island counter, staring into s.p.a.ce, her eyes gla.s.sy. "Mom?" Spencer said softly, but her mother didn't answer.Aria walked down the DiLaurentises' driveway. The family's trash cans sat on the curb, waiting for the Sat.u.r.day garbage collection. One of the lids had fallen off, and Aria saw an empty prescription bottle sitting on top of a black plastic bag. The label was mostly scratched off, but Ali's name was printed there in block letters. Aria wondered if they were antibiotics or spring allergy meds-the pollen in Rosewood was brutal this year.Hanna waited on one of the boulders in Spencer's front yard for her mom to pick her up. Mona Vanderwaal was riding her scooter around the cul-de-sac. Could Mrs. DiLaurentis be right? Had someone dared to tease Ali, just like Ali and the others taunted Mona?Emily grabbed her bike and walked to Ali's backwoods for the shortcut back to her house. The gazebo workers were taking a break. That same scrawny guy with the gold tooth was horsing around with someone sporting a wispy mustache, inattentive to the concrete as it flowed from the cement mixer into the hole. Their cars-a dented Honda, two pickups, and a b.u.mper sticker-slathered Jeep Cherokee-were parked along the curb. At the very end of the line was a vaguely familiar black vintage sedan. It was nicer than the others, and Emily could see her reflection in the shiny doors as she biked past. Her face looked pensive. What would she do if Ali didn't want to be her friend anymore?As the sun rose higher in the sky, each girl wondered what would happen if Ali dropped them cold, like she had Naomi and Riley. But none of them paid any attention to Mrs. DiLaurentis's frantic questions. She was Ali's mom-it was her job to worry.None of them could have predicted that by the following day, the DiLaurentises' front lawn would be filled with news vans and police cars. Nor could they have known where Ali truly was or whom she'd really planned on meeting when she'd run out of the barn that night. No, on that pretty June day, the first full day of summer vacation, they pushed Mrs. DiLaurentis's concerns aside. Bad things didn't happen in places like Rosewood. And they certainly didn't happen to girls like Ali. She's fine, they thought. She'll be back.And three years later, maybe, just maybe, they were finally right.

Chapter 1

Don't Breathe In.

Emily Fields opened her eyes and looked around. She was lying in the middle of Spencer Hastings's backyard, surrounded by a wall of smoke and flames. Gnarled tree branches snapped and dropped to the ground with deafening thuds. Heat radiated from the woods, making it feel like it was the middle of July, not the end of January.Emily's other old best friends, Aria Montgomery and Hanna Marin, were nearby, dressed in soiled silk and sequined party dresses, coughing hysterically. Sirens roared behind them. Fire truck lights whirled in the distance. Four ambulances barreled onto the Hastingses' lawn, giving no heed to the perfectly shaped shrubs and flower beds.A paramedic in a white uniform burst through the billowing smoke. "Are you all right?" he cried, kneeling down at Emily's side.Emily felt as if she'd awakened from a yearlong sleep. Something huge had just happened . . . but what?The paramedic caught her arm before she collapsed to the ground again. "You've inhaled a lot of smoke," he yelled. "Your brain isn't getting enough oxygen. You're lapsing in and out of consciousness." He placed an oxygen mask over her face.A second person swam into view. It was a Rosewood cop Emily didn't recognize, a man with silvery hair and kind green eyes. "Is there anyone else in the woods besides the four of you?" he shouted over the din.Emily's lips parted, scrambling for an answer that felt just beyond her reach. And then, like a light switching on, everything that had happened in the last few hours flooded back to her.All those texts from A, the torturous new text messager, insisting that Ian Thomas hadn't killed Alison DiLaurentis. The sign-in book Emily had found at the Radley hotel party with Jason DiLaurentis's name all through it, indicating he might have been a patient back when the Radley was a mental hospital. Ian confirming on IM that Jason and Darren Wilden, the cop working on Ali's murder case, had been the ones to kill Ali-and warning them that Jason and Wilden would stop at nothing to keep them quiet.And then the flicker. The horrible sulfuric smell. The ten acres of woods bursting into flames.They'd run blindly to Spencer's yard, catching up withAria, who'd cut through the woods from her new house one street over. Aria had a girl with her, someone who'd been trapped in the fiery woods. Someone Emily thought she'd never see again.Emily pulled the oxygen mask away from her face. "Alison," she shouted. "Don't forget Alison!"The cop c.o.c.ked his head. The paramedic cupped his hand to his ear. "Who?"Emily turned around, gesturing to where Ali had just been lying on the gra.s.s. She took a big step back. Ali was gone."No," she whispered. She wheeled around. The paramedics were loading her friends into ambulances. "Aria!" Emily screamed. "Spencer! Hanna!"Her friends turned. "Ali!" Emily screeched, waving at the now-empty spot where Ali had been. "Did you see where Ali went?"Aria shook her head. Hanna held her oxygen mask to her face, her eyes darting back and forth. Spencer's skin paled with terror, but then a bunch of EMTs surrounded her, helping her into the back of an ambulance.Emily turned desperately to the paramedic. His face was backlit by the Hastingses' burning windmill. "Alison's here. We just saw her!"The paramedic looked at her uncertainly. "You mean Alison DiLaurentis, the girl who . . . died?""She's not dead!" Emily wailed, nearly tripping over a tree root as she backed up. She gestured toward the flames. "She's hurt! She said someone was trying to kill her!""Miss." The cop placed a hand on her shoulder. "You need to settle down."There was a snap a few feet away, and Emily pivoted. Four news reporters stood near the Hastingses' deck, gaping. "Miss Fields?" a journalist called, running toward Emily and jabbing her microphone in Emily's face. A man with a camera and another guy holding a boom raced forward too. "What did you say? Who did you just see?"Emily's heart pounded. "We've got to help Alison!" She looked around again. Spencer's yard was crawling with cops and EMTs. By contrast, Ali's old yard was dark and empty. When Emily saw a shape dart behind the wrought-iron fence that separated the Hastingses' yard from the DiLaurentises', her heart leapt. Ali? But it was only a shadow made by the flashing lights of a police car.More journalists gathered, spilling from the Hastingses' front and side yards. A fire truck screamed up too, the firefighters leaping from the vehicle and pointing a huge hose at the woods. A bald, middle-aged reporter touched Emily's arm. "What did Alison look like?" he demanded. "Where has she been?""That's enough." The cop brushed everyone away. "Give her some s.p.a.ce."The reporter shoved the microphone at him. "Are you going to investigate her claim? Are you going to search for Alison?""Who set the fire? Did you see?" another voice screamed over the sound of the fire hoses.The paramedic maneuvered Emily away from them. "We need to get you out of here."Emily let out a fevered whimper, desperately staring at the empty patch of gra.s.s. The very same thing had happened when they saw Ian's dead body in the woods last week-one minute he was lying there, bloated and pale on the gra.s.s, and the next he was . . . gone. But it couldn't be happening again. It couldn't. Emily had spent years pining over Ali, obsessing over every contour of her face, memorizing every hair on her head. And that girl from the woods looked exactly like Ali. She had Ali's raspy, s.e.xy voice, and when she wiped the soot from her face, it had been with Ali's small, delicate hands.They were at the ambulance now. Another EMT clapped the oxygen mask back over Emily's mouth and nose and helped her onto a small cot inside. The paramedics buckled themselves in beside her. Sirens whooped, and the vehicle rolled slowly off the lawn. As they turned onto the street, Emily noticed a police car through the ambulance's back window, its sirens silenced, the headlights off. It wasn't driving toward the Hastingses' house, though.She turned her attention back to Spencer's house, looking once more for Ali, but all she saw were curious bystanders. There was Mrs. McClellan, a neighbor from down the street. Hovering by the mailbox were Mr. and Mrs. Vanderwaal, whose daughter, Mona, had been the original A. Emily hadn't seen them since Mona's funeral a few months ago. Even the Cavanaughs were there, gazing at the flames in horror. Mrs. Cavanaugh had a hand resting protectively on her daughter Jenna's shoulder. Even though Jenna's sightless eyes were obscured by her dark Gucci sungla.s.ses, it seemed like she was staring straight at Emily.But Ali wasn't anywhere in the chaos. She'd vanished-again.

Chapter 2

Up in Smoke.

About six hours later, a perky nurse with a long brown ponytail pushed back the curtain to Aria's little cordoned-off nook in the Rosewood Memorial emergency room. She handed Aria's dad, Byron, a clipboard and told him to sign at the bottom. "Besides the bruises on her legs and all the smoke she inhaled, I think she's going to be fine," the nurse said."Thank G.o.d." Byron sighed, penning his name with a flourish. He and Aria's brother, Mike, had shown up at the hospital shortly after the ambulance deposited Aria here. Aria's mom, Ella, was in Vermont for the night with her vile boyfriend, Xavier, and Byron had told her that there was no reason for her to rush home.The nurse looked at Aria. "Your friend Spencer wants to see you before you go. She's on the second floor. Room two-oh-six.""Okay," Aria said shakily, shifting her legs underneath the scratchy, standard-issue hospital linens.Byron rose from the white plastic chair beside the bed and met Aria's gaze. "I'll wait for you in the lobby. Take your time."Aria slowly got up. She raked her hands through her blue-black hair, little flakes of soot and ash raining onto the sheets. When she leaned down to pull on her jeans and put on her shoes, her muscles ached like she'd climbed Mount Everest. She'd been up all night, freaking out over what had just happened in the woods. Even though her old friends had been brought to the ER, too, they'd all been taken to separate corners of the ward, so Aria hadn't been able to speak to any of them. Every time she'd tried to get up, the nurses had swept into her room and told her that she needed to relax and get some sleep. Right. Like that was going to happen again.Aria had no idea what to think about the ordeal she'd just been through. One minute, she was sprinting through the forest to Spencer's barn, the piece of Time Capsule flag she'd stolen from Ali in sixth grade tucked in her back pocket. She hadn't looked at the shiny blue fabric in four long years, but Hanna was convinced the drawings on it contained a clue about Ali's killer. And then, just as Aria had slipped on a patch of wet leaves, the acrid smell of gas had filled her nostrils and she'd heard the papery rasp of a match igniting. All around her, the woods exploded into flames, burning hot and bright and searing her skin. Moments later, she came upon someone in the woods screaming desperately for help. Someone whose body they'd all thought was in that half-dug hole in the DiLaurentises' old backyard. Ali.Or so Aria had thought at the time. But now . . . well, now she didn't know. She looked at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the door. Her cheeks were gaunt, her eyes rimmed with red. The ER doctor who'd treated Aria explained that it was common to see crazy things after inhaling a bunch of noxious smoke-when deprived of oxygen, the brain went haywire. The forest had been really suffocating. And Ali had seemed so hazy and surreal, definitely like a dream. Aria hadn't known that group hallucinations were possible, but they'd all had Ali on their minds last night. Maybe it was obvious why Ali was the first thing each of them thought of when their brains began to shut down.After Aria finished changing into the jeans and sweater Byron had brought her from home, she made her way to Spencer's room on the second floor. Mr. and Mrs. Hastings were slumped on chairs in the waiting area across the hall, checking their BlackBerrys. Hanna and Emily were already inside the room, dressed in jeans and sweaters, but Spencer was still in bed in her hospital gown. IV tubes fed into her arms, her skin was sallow, and there were dark purple circles under her blue eyes and a bruise on her square jaw."Are you all right?" Aria exclaimed. No one had told her Spencer was hurt.Spencer nodded weakly, using the little remote on the side of the bed to sit up straighter. "I'm much better now. They say smoke inhalation can sometimes affect people really differently."Aria looked around. The room smelled of sickness and bleach. There was a monitor in the corner tracking Spencer's vital signs, and a small chrome sink with stacks of boxes of surgical gloves in the corner. The walls were wasabi green, and next to the floral-curtained window was a big poster explaining how to self-administer the monthly breast exam. Predictably, some kid had drawn a p.e.n.i.s next to the woman's b.o.o.b.Emily was perched on a child-size chair near the window, her reddish-blond hair tangled, her thin lips cracked. She shifted uncomfortably, her broad swimmer's body too big for the seat. Hanna was by the door, leaning against a sign proclaiming that all hospital employees must wear gloves. Her hazel eyes were glazed and vacant. She looked even frailer than usual, her skinny, dark-denim jeans hanging loosely on her hips.Wordlessly, Aria pulled Ali's flag from her yak-fur bag and spread it on Spencer's bed. Everyone moved in and stared. Shiny silver doodles covered the fabric. There was a Chanel logo, a Louis Vuitton luggage pattern, and Ali's name in big bubble letters. A stone wishing well, complete with an A-frame roof and crank, was in the corner. Aria traced the outline of the well with her finger. She didn't see any glaring, vital clues here about what might have happened to Ali the night she was killed. This was the same kind of stuff everyone drew on their Time Capsule flags.Spencer touched the edge of the fabric. "I forgot Ali made bubble letters like that."Hanna shivered. "Just seeing Ali's writing makes me think she's here with us."Everyone raised their heads, exchanging a spooked glance. It was obvious they were all thinking the same thing. Just like she was with us in the woods a few hours ago.At that, they all spoke at once. "We've got to-" Aria blurted."What did we-" Hanna whispered."The doctor said-" Spencer hissed a half-second later. They all stopped and looked at one another, their cheeks as pale as the pillowcases behind Spencer's head.It was Emily who spoke next. "We've got to do something, guys. Ali is out there. We need to figure out where she went. Has anyone heard anything about people looking for her in the woods? I told the cops we saw her, but they just stood there!"Aria's heart flipped. Spencer looked incredulous. "You told the cops?" she repeated, pushing a strand of dirty blond hair out of her eyes."Of course I did!" Emily whispered."But . . . Emily . . .""What?" Emily snapped. She glared at Spencer crazily, as if there was a unicorn horn growing out of her forehead."Em, it was just a hallucination. The doctors said so. Ali's dead."Emily's eyes boggled. "But we all saw her, didn't we? Are you saying we all had the exact same hallucination?"Spencer stared unblinking at Emily. A few tense seconds pa.s.sed. Outside the room, a beeper went off. A hospital bed with a squeaky wheel rolled down the hall.Emily let out a whimper. Her cheeks had turned bright pink. She turned to Hanna and Aria. "You guys think Ali was real, right?""It could have been Ali, I guess," Aria said, sinking into a spare wheelchair by the tiny bathroom. "But, Em, the doctor told me it was smoke inhalation. It makes sense. How else could she have just vanished after the fire?""Yeah," Hanna said weakly. "And where would she have been hiding all this time?"Emily slapped her arms to her sides violently. The IV pole next to her rattled. "Hanna, you said you saw Ali standing over you in your hospital bed the last time you were here. Maybe it really was her!"Hanna fiddled with the high heel of her suede boot, looking uncomfortable."Hanna was in a coma when she saw Ali," Spencer jumped in. "It was obviously a dream."Undaunted, Emily pointed at Aria. "You pulled someone out of the woods last night. If it wasn't Ali, then who was it?"Aria shrugged, running her hands along the spokes on one of the wheelchair's wheels. Out the big window, the sun was just coming up. There was a line of shiny BMWs, Mercedes, and Audis in the hospital parking lot. It was amazing how normal everything looked after such a crazy night. "I don't know," she admitted. "The woods were so dark. And . . . oh s.h.i.t." She dug in the inner pocket of her bag. "I found this last night."She opened her palm and showed them the familiar-looking Rosewood Day cla.s.s ring with a bright blue stone. The inscription on the inside of the band said IAN THOMAS. When they'd discovered Ian's supposedly dead body in the woods last week, the ring had been on Ian's finger. "It was just lying there in the dirt," she explained. "I don't know how the cops didn't find it."Emily gasped. Spencer looked confused. Hanna s.n.a.t.c.hed the ring from Aria's palm and held it to the light above Spencer's bed. "Maybe it fell off Ian's finger when he escaped?""What should we do with it?" Emily asked. "Turn it in to the cops?""Definitely not," Spencer said. "It seems a little convenient that we see Ian's body in the woods, make the cops search the place, they find nothing, and then voila! We find a ring just like that. It makes us look suspicious. You probably shouldn't have picked it up at all. It's evidence."Aria crossed her arms over her Fair Isle sweater. "How was I supposed to know that? So what should I do? Put it back where I found it?""No," Spencer instructed. "The cops will be mobbing those woods again because of the fire. They might notice you putting it back and ask questions. Just hold on to it for now, I guess."Emily shifted impatiently in the little chair. "You saw Ali after you found the ring. Right, Aria?""I'm not sure," Aria admitted. She tried to think about those frantic minutes in the woods. They were growing blurrier and blurrier. "I never actually touched her. . . ."Emily stood up. "What is wrong with you guys? Why do you suddenly not believe what we saw?""Em," Spencer said gently. "You're getting really emotional.""I am not!" Emily cried. Her cheeks flushed bright pink, making her freckles stand out.They were interrupted by a loud, squawking alarm in an adjacent room. Nurses yelled. There were frantic footsteps. A sick feeling welled in Aria's stomach. She wondered if it was the alarm warning that someone was dying.A few moments later, the wing fell silent again. Spencer cleared her throat. "The most important thing is figuring out who set that fire. That's what the cops need to concentrate on right now. Someone tried to kill us last night.""Not just someone," Hanna whispered. "Them."Spencer looked at Aria. "We got in touch with Ian in the barn. He told us everything. He's sure Jason and Wilden did it. Everything we talked about last night is true, and they're definitely out to keep us quiet."Aria's chest heaved, remembering something else. "When I was in the woods, I saw someone set the fire."Spencer sat up even more, her eyes saucers. "What?""Did you see their face?" Hanna exclaimed."I don't know." Aria shut her eyes, calling back the horrible memory. Moments after she'd found Ian's ring, she'd seen someone skulking through the woods only a few paces ahead of her, his hood pulled tight and his face in the shadows. Instantly, she felt in her bones that it was someone she knew. When she realized what he was doing, her limbs froze. She felt powerless to stop him. In seconds, the flames were speeding along the forest floor, making a hungry beeline for her feet.She felt her friends' stares, waiting for her answer. "Whoever it was had a hood on," Aria admitted. "But I'm pretty sure it was . . ."Then she trailed off at the sound of a loud, long creak. Slowly, the door to Spencer's hospital room swung open. A figure emerged in the doorway, his body backlit in the bright hall. When Aria saw his face, her heart jumped to her throat. Don't pa.s.s out, she told herself, instantly feeling woozy. It was one of the people A had warned them about. The person Aria was almost certain she'd seen in the woods. One of Ali's killers.Officer Darren Wilden."h.e.l.lo, girls." Wilden strutted through the door. His green eyes were bright, and his handsome, angular face was chapped from the cold. His Rosewood police uniform fit him snugly, showing off how in shape he was.Then he paused at the edge of Spencer's bed, finally noticing the girls' unwelcoming expressions. "What?"They exchanged terrified glances. Finally, Spencer cleared her throat. "We know what you did."Wilden leaned against the bed frame, careful not to b.u.mp into Spencer's IV fluids. "Excuse me?""I just called for the nurse," Spencer said in a louder, more projected voice, the one she often used when she was on stage for the Rosewood Day drama club. "She'll call security before you can hurt us. We know you set that fire. And we know why."Deep creases etched Wilden's forehead. A vein bulged in his neck. Aria's heart beat so loudly it drowned out all the other sounds in the room. No one moved. The longer Wilden glared at them, the tenser Aria felt.Finally, Wilden shifted his weight. "The fire in the woods?" He let out a dubious sniff. "Are you serious?""I saw you buying propane at Home Depot," Hanna said shakily, her shoulders rigid. "You were putting three jugs into the car, easily enough to burn those woods. And why weren't you on the scene after the fire? Every other Rosewood cop was.""I saw your car speeding away from Spencer's house," Emily piped up, curling her knees into her chest. "Like you were fleeing the scene of the crime."Aria sneaked a peek at Emily, uncertain. She hadn't noticed a cop car leaving Spencer's house last night.Wilden leaned against the little metal sink in the corner. "Girls. Why would I set fire to those woods?""You were covering up what you did to Ali," Spencer said. "You and Jason."Emily turned to Spencer. "He didn't do anything to Ali. Ali's alive."Wilden jerked and glanced at Emily for a moment. Then he appraised the other girls, a look of betrayal on his face. "You really believe I tried to hurt you?" he asked them. The girls nodded almost imperceptibly. Wilden shook his head. "But I'm trying to help you!" When there was still no response, he sighed. "Jesus. Fine. I was with my uncle last night when the fire broke out. I lived with him in high school, and he's really sick." He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and whipped out a piece of paper. "Here."Aria and the others leaned over. It was a receipt from CVS. "I was picking up a prescription for my uncle at nine fifty-seven, and I heard the fire started around ten," Wilden said. "I'm probably even on the drugstore's security camera. How could I be in two places at once?"The room suddenly smelled pungently of Wilden's musky cologne, making Aria woozy. Was it possible Wilden wasn't the guy she'd seen in the woods lighting the fire?"And as for the propane," Wilden went on, touching the large bouquet of flowers that sat on Spencer's nightstand, "Jason DiLaurentis asked me to buy it for his lake house in the Poconos. He's been busy, and we're old friends, so I said I'd do it for him."Aria glanced at the others, taken aback by Wilden's nonchalance. Last night, finding out that Jason and Wilden were friends had seemed like a huge breakthrough, a secret busted open. Now, in the light of day, with his open admission, it didn't seem to matter very much at all."And as for what Jason and I did to Alison . . ." Wilden trailed off, stopping by a little tray on wheels that held a small pitcher of water and two foam cups. He looked dumbstruck. "It's crazy to think I'd hurt her. And Jason's her brother! You really think he's capable of that?"Aria opened her mouth to protest. Last night, Emily had found a sign-in ledger from when the Radley was a mental hospital with Jason DiLaurentis's name all through it. New A had also teased Aria that Jason was hiding something-possibly about issues with Ali-and tipped off Emily that Jenna and Jason were fighting in Jenna's window. Aria hadn't wanted to believe that Jason was guilty-she'd gone on a few dates with him the week before, fulfilling a longtime crush-but Jason had flown off the handle when Aria had gone to his apartment in Yarmouth on Friday.Wilden was shaking his head with utter disbelief. He seemed so blindsided by all this, which made Aria wonder if anything A had led them to believe was even remotely true. She gazed questioningly at her friends. Their faces were laced with doubt, too.Wilden shut Spencer's door, then turned around and glared at them. "Let me guess," he said in a low voice. "Did your New A plant these ideas in your heads?""A is real," Emily insisted. Time and again, Wilden had insisted that New A was nothing more than a copycat. "A took pictures of you, too," she went on. She rifled through her pocket, pulled out her phone, and scrolled to the picture message of Wilden going to confession. Aria caught sight of A's accompanying note: What's he so guilty about? "See?" Emily dangled it under his nose.Wilden stared at the screen. His expression didn't change. "I didn't know it was a crime to go to church."Scowling, Emily stuffed her phone back into her swim bag. A long pause followed. Wilden pinched the flap of skin at the bridge of his long, sloped nose. It seemed like all the air in the room had seeped out the windows. "Look. I need to tell you what I really came in here for." His irises were so dark they looked black. "You girls have to stop saying you saw Alison."Everyone exchanged a startled glance. Spencer looked a bit vindicated, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow as if to say, I told you so. Predictably, Emily was the first to speak. "You want us to lie?""You didn't see her." Wilden's voice was gruff. "If you keep saying you did, it's going to bring a lot of unwanted attention on you. You think the backlash was bad when you said you saw Ian's body? This will be ten times worse."Aria shifted her weight, fiddling with the cuff of her hooded sweater. Wilden was speaking to them like he was a South Philly cop and they were meth dealers. But what had they done that was so wrong?"This isn't fair," Emily protested. "She needs our help."Wilden raised his hands to the white popcorn ceiling in defeat. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing a tattoo of an eight-pointed star. Emily was glancing at the star too. From her narrowed eyes and wrinkled nose, Aria guessed she wasn't a fan."I'm going to tell you something that's supposed to be top secret," Wilden said, lowering his voice. "The DNA results for the body the workers found in the hole are at the station. It's a perfect match for Alison, girls. She's dead. So do what I say, okay? I really am looking out for your best interest."At that, he flipped open his phone, strode out of the room, and slammed the door hard. The foam cups on the food tray wobbled precariously. Aria turned back to her friends. Spencer's lips were pressed together fretfully. Hanna chewed anxiously on a thumbnail. Emily blinked her round, green eyes, stunned into speechlessness."So now what?" Aria whispered.Emily whimpered, Spencer fiddled with her IV, and Hanna looked like she was going to keel over. All their perfectly crafted theories had gone up in smoke-literally. Maybe Wilden hadn't set the fire-but Aria had seen someone out there in the woods. Which unfortunately meant only one thing.Whoever had lit that match was still out there. Whoever had tried to kill them was still on the loose, maybe waiting for a chance to try it again.

Chapter 3

If Only Someone had Scammed Spencer Years Ago ....

As the dim, midwinter Sunday sun disappeared over the horizon, Spencer stood in her family's backyard, surveying the fire's destruction. Her mother stood next to her; her eye makeup was smudged, her foundation blotchy, and her hair limp-she hadn't gotten her daily blowout from Uri, her hairdresser, this morning. Spencer's dad was there too, for once without his Bluetooth headset fastened to his ear. His mouth wobbled slightly, as if he was trying to hold in a sob.Everything around them was ruined. The towering, old-growth trees were blackened and battered, and a stinky gray haze hung over the treetops. The family's windmill was now not much more than a carca.s.s, the blades charred, the latticework splintered and crumbled. The Hastingses' lawn was crisscrossed with tire treads from the emergency vehicles that had rushed to the fire. Cigarette b.u.t.ts, empty Starbucks cups, and even a drained can of beer were strewn across the gra.s.s, remnants of the rubberneckers who had swarmed the scene and lingered long after Spencer and the others had been taken to the ER.But the worst, most heartbreaking result of the fire was what it had done to the family's barn apartment, which had been standing since 1756. Half the structure was still intact, though the wood siding, once cherry red, was now a charred, toxic gray. Most of the roof was missing, all of the leaded gla.s.s in the windows had blown out, and the front door was a pile of ash. Spencer could see straight through the empty sh.e.l.l into the barn's great room. There was a huge puddle of water on the Brazilian cherrywood floor, left over from the gallons of water the firemen had pumped into the barn. The four-poster bed, plush leather couch, and mahogany coffee table were ruined. So was the desk where Spencer, Emily, and Hanna had gathered just the night before, IMing Ian about who really killed Ali.Only, it looked like Jason and Wilden weren't Ali's murderers. Which meant Spencer was back to knowing absolutely nothing.She turned away from the barn, her eyes tearing up from the gas fumes. Closer to the house was the spot where she and her friends had collapsed on the lawn after running from the flames. Like the rest of the yard, it was littered with trash and soot, and the gra.s.s was scrubby and dead. There was nothing special about it at all, no magical indication that Ali had been there. Then again, Ali hadn't been there-they'd hallucinated her. It had been nothing more than a side effect of inhaling too much smoke. Workers had found her decomposed body in the DiLaurentises' old backyard months ago."I'm so sorry," Spencer whispered as a piece of red roofing dislodged itself from the barn and tumbled to the ground with a thud.Slowly, Mrs. Hastings reached out and grabbed Spencer's hand. Mr. Hastings touched her shoulder. Before Spencer knew it, both her parents were wrapping their arms around her, engulfing her in a shaking, blubbering hug. "I don't know what we would have done if something had happened to you," Mrs. Hastings cried."When we saw the fire, and then when we heard you might be hurt . . ." Mr. Hastings trailed off."None of this matters," Mrs. Hastings went on, her voice thick with sobs. "All of this could've burned down. At least we still have you."Spencer clung to her parents, her breath catching in her bruised throat.In the past twenty-four hours, her parents had been beyond wonderful to her. They'd sat by her hospital bed all night, hyper-vigilantly watching Spencer's chest rise and fall with every ragged breath. They'd bugged the nurses about getting Spencer water as soon as she wanted it, pain pills as soon as she needed them, and warmer blankets when she felt cold. When the doctor discharged her this afternoon, they'd taken her to the Creamery, her favorite ice cream parlor in Old Hollis, and bought her a double scoop of maple chip. It was a big change-for years, they'd treated her like the unwanted kid they begrudgingly let live in their home. And when she'd recently come clean about plagiarizing her award-winning Golden Orchid essay from her perfect sister, Melissa, they'd basically excommunicated her.Only now there really was a reason for them to hate her, and the minute Spencer told them, their concern, their rare show of love, would vanish. Spencer squeezed them hard, savoring the very last moment they'd probably ever speak to her again. She'd put this off for as long as she possibly could, but she had to tell them sometime.She stepped back and squared her shoulders. "There's something you need to know," she admitted, her voice hoa.r.s.e from the smoky air."Is it about Alison?" Mrs. Hastings's voice swooped. "Because, Spence-"Spencer shook her head, cutting her off. "No. Something else."She gazed at the blackened branches high in the sky. Then the truth spilled out in rapid succession. How, after Spencer's grandmother, Nana Hastings, didn't leave Spencer any money in her will, Melissa suggested Spencer might have been adopted. How Spencer registered with an online adoption site and just days later received a message that her birth mother had been found. How her visit with Olivia Caldwell in New York had been so wonderful that Spencer decided she wanted to move to the city permanently. Spencer just kept talking, afraid that if she stopped, she'd burst into tears. She didn't dare look at her parents, either, for fear their devastated expressions would break her heart."She had left behind her real estate agent's card, so I called and gave him my college savings account number to cover the security deposit and first month's rent," Spencer went on, curling her toes inside her gray suede slouch boots. She could barely get the words out.A squirrel scuttled in the grimy underbrush. Her father groaned. Her mother squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand to her forehead. Spencer's heart sank. Here we go. Commence Operation: You're Not Our Daughter Anymore. "You can guess what happened next." She sighed, gazing at a tall birdhouse near the deck. Not a single bird had approached it since they'd been out here. "The broker was obviously working with Olivia, and they cleaned out the account and disappeared." She swallowed hard.The backyard was silent and still. Now that the sunlight was almost gone, the barn looked like a ghost town relic, the dark windows like hollow eye sockets in a skull. Spencer sneaked a peek at her parents. Her dad was pale. Her mom sucked in her cheeks, as if she'd swallowed something sour. They exchanged a nervous look, then checked the front yard, perhaps scanning for press vans. Reporters had been pulling up to the house all day, grilling Spencer about whether she'd really seen Ali.Her dad took a deep breath. "Spencer, the money doesn't matter."Spencer blinked, startled."We can trace what happened to it," Mr. Hastings explained, wringing his hands. "It's possible we'll be able to get it back." He gazed off at the weather vane on top of the roof. "But . . . well, we should have seen it coming too."Spencer frowned, wondering if her brain was screwed up from inhaling residual fumes from the fire. "W-what?"Her dad shifted his weight and glanced at his wife. "I knew we should've told her years ago, Veronica," he mumbled."I didn't know this was going to happen," Spencer's mom squeaked, raising her hands. The air was so chilly, her breath came out in visible puffs."Tell me what?" Spencer pressed. Her heart started to thud. When she breathed in, all she could smell was ash."We should go inside," Mrs. Hastings said distractedly. "It's awfully cold out here.""Tell me what?" Spencer repeated, planting her feet. She wasn't going anywhere.Her mother paused for a long time. A creaking noise sounded from inside the barn. Finally, Mrs. Hastings sat down on one of the enormous boulders that peppered the big backyard. "Honey, Olivia did give birth to you."Spencer's eyes widened. "What?""Kind of gave birth to you," Mr. Hastings corrected.Spencer took a step back, a brittle twig snapping under her boot. "So I was really adopted? Olivia was telling the truth?" Is this why I feel so different from you guys? Is this why you've always preferred Melissa-because I'm not really your daughter?Mrs. Hastings spun the three-carat diamond on her finger. Somewhere deep in the woods, a tree branch fell to the ground with an earsplitting crack. "This certainly isn't something I thought we'd discuss today." She took a Zen-centering breath, shook out her hands, and raised her head. Mr. Hastings rubbed his gloved hands together fast. Suddenly, they both looked so clueless. Not like the always-poised, absolutely-in-control parents Spencer knew so well."Melissa's delivery was complicated." Mrs. Hastings drummed her hands on the slick, heavy boulder. Her eyes flickered to the front of the house for a moment, watching as a battered Honda slowed at their driveway. Curious neighbors had been circling the cul-de-sac all afternoon. "The doctors told me that giving birth to another child could endanger my health. But we wanted another baby, so we ended up using a surrogate. Basically . . . we used my egg and your dad's . . . you know." She lowered her eyes, too demure and proper to say sperm aloud. "But we needed a woman to carry the baby-you-for us. So we found Olivia.""We screened her thoroughly to make sure she was healthy." Mr. Hastings sat down next to his wife on the rock, barely noticing that his handmade A. Testoni loafers had sunk into the sooty mud. "She seemed to fit what we wanted, and she seemed to want us to have you. Only, toward the end of her pregnancy, she started to get . . . demanding. She wanted more money from us. She threatened to escape to Canada and keep you for herself.""So we paid her more," Mrs. Hastings blurted. She put her blond head in her hands. "And in the end, she did give you up, obviously. It's just . . . after how possessive she became, we didn't want you to have any contact with her. We decided that the best thing we could do was keep it a secret from you-because, really, you are ours.""But some people didn't get that," Mr. Hastings said, rubbing his salt-and-pepper hair. His cell phone rang in his pocket, playing the first few bars of Beethoven's Fifth. He ignored it. "Like Nana. She thought it was unnatural, and she never forgave us for doing it. When Nana's will said she was only giving money to her 'natural-born grandchildren,' we should have come clean. It seems like Olivia has been waiting for a moment like this all along."The wind calmed down, coming to an eerie standstill. The Hastingses' dogs, Rufus and Beatrice, clawed at the back door, eager to get out and see what the family was doing. Spencer gaped at her parents. Mr. and Mrs. Hastings looked ragged and exhausted, like admitting this had taken everything out of them. It was obvious this was something they hadn't talked about in a long time. Spencer looked back and forth at them, trying to process it all. Their words made sense individually, but not as a whole. "So Olivia carried me," she repeated slowly. A shiver went up her spine that had nothing to do with the wind."Yes," Mrs. Hastings said. "But we're your family, Spencer. You're ours.""We wanted you so badly, and Olivia was our only option," Mr. Hastings said, gazing up at the purplish clouds. "Lately we seem to have lost sight of how important we all are to one another. And after everything you've gone through with Ian and Alison and this fire . . ." He shook his head, staring again at the barn and then at the ruined woods beyond. A crow screeched and circled overhead. "We should have been there for you. We never wanted you to think you weren't loved."Her mother tentatively took Spencer's hand and squeezed. "What if we . . . start fresh? Could we try that? Could you forgive us?"The wind gusted again and the smell of smoke intensified. A couple of black leaves blew across the lawn into Ali's yard, coming to a stop near the half-dug hole where Ali's body had been found. Spencer fiddled with the plastic hospital bracelet that still circled her wrist, oscillating from shock to compa.s.sion to anger. In the past six months, her parents had taken away Spencer's barn apartment living privileges and let Melissa stay there instead, cut off her credit cards, sold her car, and told her on more than one occasion that she was dead to them. d.a.m.n right I haven't felt like I had a realfamily, she wanted to scream. d.a.m.n right you haven't been there for me! And now they wanted to just wipe the slate clean?Her mother chewed on her lip, twisting a twig she'd picked up off the ground in her hands. Her father seemed to be holding his breath. This was Spencer's decision to make. She could choose to never forgive them, to stamp her foot and stay angry . . . but then she saw the pain and regret in their faces. They really meant it. They wanted her to forgive them more than anything. Wasn't this what she wanted most in the world-parents who loved and wanted her?"Yes," Spencer said. "I forgive you."Her parents let out an audible sigh and wrapped their arms around her. Her dad kissed the top of Spencer's head, his skin smelling like his favorite Kiehl's aftershave.Spencer felt like she was floating outside her body. Just yesterday, when she'd discovered her college savings were gone, she'd a.s.sumed her life was over. She'd actually thought A was behind it all and had punished Spencer for not trying hard enough to track down Ali's true killer. But losing that money might have been the best thing that could have happened.As her parents stood back and appraised their younger daughter, Spencer attempted a wobbly smile. They wanted her. They really wanted her. Then, a slow, roiling wind blew through the yard and another familiar scent tickled her nose. It smelled like . . . vanilla soap, the kind Ali always used to use. Spencer flinched and the horrifying image of Ali covered in soot, choking on flames, sped back.She shut her eyes, willing the vision out of her head. No. Ali was dead. She had hallucinated her. And that was that.

Chapter 4

Does Prada Make Straitjackets?.

As the smell of fresh-brewed Starbucks French roast wafted up the stairs, Hanna Marin lay on her bed, soaking up the last few minutes before she had to get ready for school. MTV2 blared in the background; her miniature Doberman, Dot, snoozed fitfully on his back in his Burberry doggie bed; and Hanna had just finished polishing her toenails Dior pink. Now she was talking on the phone to her new boyfriend, Mike Montgomery."Thanks again for the Aveda stuff." She gazed again at the new products sitting on her nightstand. Yesterday, when Hanna had been leaving the hospital, Mike presented her with the deluxe destressing gift basket, which included a cooling eye mask, cuc.u.mber-mint body b.u.t.ter, and a handheld ma.s.sager. Hanna had used all of them already, desperate to find a panacea that would wipe the fire-and the bizarre Ali sighting-from her mind. The doctors had chalked up the Ali vision to smoke inhalation, but it still seemed so real.In some ways, Hanna was crushed that it wasn't. After all these years, she still had a burning wish for Ali to see with her own eyes how much Hanna had changed. The last time Hanna saw Ali, Hanna had been a chubby ugly duckling-definitely the dorkiest of the group-and Ali always made countless cracks about Hanna's weight, frizzy hair, and bad skin. She'd probably never have guessed that Hanna would transform into a thin, gorgeous, popular swan. Sometimes Hanna wondered if the only way she'd truly know for sure that her transformation was complete was if Ali gave Hanna her blessing. Of course, now that could never happen."My pleasure," Mike answered, snapping Hanna out of her reverie. "And be forewarned-I sent some very juicy Twitters to some of the press people who were waiting outside the ER. Just to get them focused on something other than the fire.""Like what?" Hanna asked, instantly on alert. Mike sounded up to something."Hanna Marin in talks with MTV about reality show," Mike recited. "Multimillion-dollar deal.""Awesome." Hanna let out a breath and started waving her hands around to dry her nails."I wrote one about myself, too. Mike Montgomery turns down date with Croatian supermodel.""You turned down a date?" Hanna giggled flirtatiously. "That doesn't seem like the Mike Montgomery I know.""Who needs Croatian supermodels when you have Hanna Marin?" Mike said.Hanna wriggled with giddy delight. If someone had told her a few weeks ago that she'd be dating Mike Montgomery, she would have swallowed her Crest Whitestrip in surprise-she'd only pursued Mike because her soon-to-be stepsister, Kate, wanted him too. But somehow in the process, she'd actually started to like him. With his ice blue eyes, pink, kissable lips, and raunchy sense of humor, he was becoming more than just Aria Montgomery's popularity-obsessed younger brother to her.She stood up, crossed the room to her closet, and ran her fingers along Ali's piece of the Time Capsule flag, which she'd taken at the hospital when Aria wasn't looking. She didn't feel guilty about it, either-it wasn't like the flag belonged to Aria. "So I heard that you guys were getting notes from a new A," Mike said. His voice was suddenly serious."I haven't gotten any notes from A," Hanna said truthfully. Since she'd gotten her new iPhone and changed her number, A had left her alone. It was certainly a welcome change from the old A, who had horribly turned out to be Hanna's former bestie, Mona Vanderwaal-something she tried very hard never to think about. "Let's hope it stays that way.""Well, let me know if there's anything I can do," Mike a.s.sured her. "Kick someone's a.s.s, whatever.""Aw." Hanna flushed with pleasure. No other boyfriend had ever offered to defend her honor. She made a kissing sound, promised she and Mike would meet for lattes at Steam, Rosewood's coffee bar, this afternoon, and hung up.Then she padded down to the kitchen for breakfast, pulling a brush through her long auburn hair. The kitchen smelled like mint tea and fresh fruit. Her soon-to-be stepmother, Isabel, and Kate were already at the table, eating bowls of cut-up melon and cottage cheese. Hanna couldn't think of a more vomit-inspiring food combination.When they saw Hanna in the doorway, they both leapt to their feet. "How are you feeling?" they gushed at the same time."Fine," Hanna answered tightly, sc.r.a.ping the brush against her scalp. Predictably, Isabel began to wince-she was a germaphobe, and had a thing against hair-brushing near food.Hanna plopped down in an empty chair and reached for the carafe of coffee. Isabel and Kate sat back down, and there was a long, pregnant pause, like Hanna had interrupted something. They'd probably been gossiping about her. She wouldn't put it past either of them.Hanna's father had been dating Isabel for years-even Ali had met both Isabel and Kate a few months before she disappeared-but they'd only begun living in Rosewood after Hanna's mother was transferred to Singapore and Hanna's father took a job in Philly. It was bad enough that her dad had decided to marry a fake-tan-obsessed ER nurse named Isabel-such a trade down from Hanna's glamorous, successful mother-