•

"Crazy"

Mornings in Rosewood were busy, especially when the weather peaked. The sun was out, beating down on the centre green in town, and brought out residents for breakfast. Halle Brewster and her friends were making their way towards their new favourite hang-out spot — The Brew, the coffee shop where Emily worked — while Hanna worried over her latest close-call encounter with Detective Wilden.

"That's why A wants Garrett out of jail," Hanna recounted, "so I can take his place."

"Okay — don't go there," Emily reproached, shutting down that idea.

"It's already past there, Emily," argued Hanna, incessantly shrill in tone. She listed out a series of events that led to that morning confrontation. "He knows about the note, he caught me at the church, and it's my blood type."

Guilt stirred up inside of Halle. That settled feeling she got at the church, when Jason came to her with new of elation — him finally at peace with his sister set to receive justice — vanished as quick as it sank in. It was the next day, in the kitchen, watching Jason tear into himself over his mistake. The anklet of Alison's didn't do what they had hoped — it proven Garrett was innocence — and now Wilden was fishing closer to home than ever.

With Hanna.

"So what?" Aria shot out incredulously. She offered out her hand as she spoke, trying to provoke calmness among them not anxiety. "You didn't kill anybody."

Crunch.

Again, Halle heard the rock hit Alison. She cringed as she stomach lurched. From where she drifted a step or two behind the four, her dark eyes found the back of Hanna's head. Her brain still blocked her from any further memories from that night. Halle just knew the drive she held to protect one of them. Was it Hanna? Halle didn't know. She was looking at all her friends differently, wondering which one she protected — which one she chose over Alison's life.

But there were false memories, Halle told herself. Alison was hit with a shovel, Wilden told them as much. A had set them up with the murder weapon on their Chucky-doll quest to locate Dr Sullivan. So what needless torment had Halle created for herself, and why?

A helpless sigh escaped Hanna. Finally, she noticed Halle was behind when she turned her head to ask the cheerleader a question. "Wilden said that Ali's family's been slamming him. Has Jason said anything?" she asked, worried.

"No," said Halle quietly. "He's too busy beating himself up over it to slam the cops, Han. All I hear is the shouting down the phone — his dad berating him, and Jason just takes it."

Spencer let of a groan, "I can't even look Jason in the eye."

Halle glared at Spencer. "He went and found that anklet with you," she accused, "you should talk to him."

Looking around, meeting three glowers all agreeing with Halle, Spencer defended, "Yeah, I know, and I'm gonna talk to him today."

They carried on walking, nearing the shop now. Coffee floated towards them and the scent filled Halle's nose. She hastened her pace, at last catching up with the group; forgotten was the thought of Alison DiLaurentis' dented skull with the promise of caffeine.

"Han, don't worry, there's nothing they can do until your mom gets back tomorrow," reassured Emily calmly.

"So, what?" Hanna threw out with droll sarcasm, "I have forty-eight hours left of freedom?" Her lilac and pink outfit combination was less fitting for her miserable mood, off-setting the colourfulness.

"Maybe Spencer's mom can block the court order," Emily suggested.

After a sharp breath, Hanna revealed her panic, "You guys, what if it is my blood?"

"How?" queried Aria within reason, her voice pitched as her hands splayed out again. She looked Hanna dead-set in the eye and asked, "Seriously, how could somebody take your blood and you wouldn't even know it?"

"Emily has a whole night that she can't remember," Hanna retaliated.

"I know the feeling," Halle muttered.

"What?" Spencer asked. "I didn't hear that."

"Oh—" Caught out, Halle easily lied her way out of it, "Just that, it's not that hard for A to do something like that." She offered as proof, "Let's not forget the time Mona drugged Em's pain-cream."

"Exactly!" Hanna's hand shot out, relieved someone was actually on her side as she was freaking out.

"Okay, not helping," Aria said to Halle.

"I was just saying," Halle replied, waving it off.

"Han, wait," Spencer tried, seeing the blonde quicken her steps. They were just across the street from The Brew now. "You need to—"

"No, I can't talk about this anymore," Hanna defended. She gave a deep sigh of defeat. "I have to go to school," she said, and walked off without another word.

As Aria went to go after Hanna — to bring her back — Halle's darted out to stop her. "Don't," said Halle. She wore a sad smile as she watched Hanna grow smaller in the distance. "Don't smother her, let her have this moment."

"You think we should give her space?" questioned Aria, them now resuming their walk to the coffee shop.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I think," Halle responded. "Han isn't going crazy here — she has a point, and we still don't know what this new A's gonna do." Halle suggested coolly, "I say we give her the morning, let her know her feelings are valid—" she shot a tiny glare back at Aria and Spencer, "and then just be there for her. It's the best we can do."

"It's not all we can do," said Emily. She pushed open the door to The Brew, her friends entering after her. "Maybe one of us should call her mom."

"I don't think her mom can have any more pull with Wilden," Spencer reasoned. "This isn't shoplifting." The four of them made their way over to the far side to collect their sugars first, so they could quickly get out and get to school. Only, an unlikely distraction caused them to waste time.

"Take it from me, you're always better off with a really good lie."

The sugary sweet tone to the woman's voice made the hairs on the back of Halle's neck stand tall. It was seductive, purposefully spoken with as much lust as a person could summon. For a moment, Halle was transfixed. Pulled back to that summer — That Night. "Friends share secrets, that's what keeps us close," Halle heard in its place, and it terrified her. It was said with a smile, hissed like a snake.

Emily stiffened also. "Is it just me, or did that sound a lot like...?"

Each of them turned, expecting to see Alison DiLaurentis. Alive and well, thriving like they had discussed her to be the night of the funeral. And there she was. Alison was alive, tanned and glowing, hair as golden as ever with sun-kissed wisps throughout.

"Alison," they all spoke, eventually gawking when the woman turned around and revealed for a fact that she was not Alison DiLaurentis.

As if this stranger had conjured every characteristic of their dead friend, she dropped her chin and narrowed her piercing blue eyes at them. The sweetness of her voice before was gone. "Something wrong?"

"Oh—" Aria backtracked, startled a little. "No, sorry." A fleeting glance went to her best friends before she took a step forward and explained politely while in a sort of trance. Completely mesmerised, Aria breathed out, "Wow, you just sound a lot like one of our friends."

A dazzling grin, flattering as if was the perfect amount of teeth and upturn of her glossed lips, broke out onto the woman's heart-shaped face. "Hope she's brilliant," she replied. "What's her name?"

Minor hesitation cracked as Aria answered truthfully. She knew too well how people reacted to the name now. Alison was Rosewood legend, the tragic truth to the repaired memorial in town. "Alison DiLaurentis."

The woman's smile sank. Her entire being softened, and she glanced down the line at all four. "You were friends of Ali's," she said, and Emily gave a subtle nod. "Me too," she informed. "I'm CeCe."

Spencer motioned to herself, brows raised in introduction. "Spencer."

CeCe considered her. Her head tilted to the side as she noted, "Melissa Hastings' little sister. Ali talked about you." She looked between them again, blessing them with the next knowing comment. "She talked about all of you. A lot."

"How do you know Ali?" asked Emily, suspicious of the sudden appearance of the almost identical replica of their friend.

"Before I moved to LA, our families rented summer homes in Cape May," CeCe told them, a tad pretentious like she was all-knowing. "We went though an intense couple weeks together," she remarked, hinting. Then, despite it not fitting into what was previously said, she made a point to add, "I dated her brother, Jason."

"Jason?" Halle checked, jaw locking. She remembered Jason had a girlfriend. She apologised in her first letter to him that summer, writing that she never should've kissed him because of many reasons; one being that he was dating somebody.

This was that somebody.

Smiling, CeCe faced the cheerleader. It was in that moment, just for a second, Halle mistook the smile for a smirk, and that Cece looked to her as if she already knew all of Halle's secrets, including her first one. "Yeah, briefly," she said. "That was rather intense too, now that I think about it." Brows furrowing, her blue eyes questioned them. "She never mentioned me to you guys?"

"No," they all replied, shaking their heads.

"No," Halle repeated. "Neither did Jason, now that I think about it," she said, throwing the words back at her.

Something glimmered behind CeCe's smile, recognising Halle immediately as That One. "Well, it was intense for me," she replied. "Ali was going through such a rough time, like a broken doll," mentioned CeCe, discussing more than Alison ever would with them.

"So," Spencer put on a smile and asked, "why did you move back to Rosewood?"

"Listen, I hate to make tracks," CeCe sprung on them. She kept glancing towards the windows on The Brew doors. "But I'm already late, and my boss is high-strung and aggressively sober," she attempted to tease. Smiling, CeCe said, "Come visit me—" she pointed to where the shop would be but outside, "at the new boutique across the street." Again, her smile slid into a smirk, leering closer to Aria. "Oh, and if you ever feel like doing a little free shopping, I'm happy to turn the other way."

An uncomfortable Aria got out, "I— I think you're thinking of Hanna." She tried to smile politely. "She's not here."

"Oh," hummed Cece. She overlooked the group one last time and then left without a goodbye.

As she went, Aria's smile dropped. "Okay, that's not just me, right?" she asked, desperately seeking agreement. She lowered her voice, "That chick is freakishly like Ali."

"Yeah, or was Ali freakishly like her?" countered Spencer, seemingly joining Aria in their conversation now being in hushed whispered. "I mean, one hip out, the head tilt."

"Looking straight through you, like she knew all your secrets," Emily finished quietly.

However, one thought stuck with Halle. Severely baffled, Halle let out, "She dated Jason?"

•

Hanna Marin in all her rose-hued glory stood by her locker. She routed through it, finding the textbook she'd need for first period, when Halle appeared. The curly-haired girl slid in next to her, proudly brandishing a takeaway cup and a brown-paper bag with The Brew's logo stamped on the sticker which kept the latter sealed. "Here," Halle declared. "For you."

Glancing to her side, Hanna was met with the bag. She asked, "What's this?"

"One skinny vanilla and a Pain au Chocolat," Halle told her with a smile. The terrible French accent Halle put on was enough to make Spencer cringe, Halle thought, but it made Hanna crack a smile. Halle said, "I felt bad you didn't get anything this morning, so I got it for you. Take it — take it," she urged, her lips curving up more as Hanna grinned widely.

"You didn't have to," Hanna told her. She put the paper bag inside her locker while she kept a hold on the coffee, her favourite hot drink The Brew did.

"Just say, 'thank you, Halle, you're the best' and that's the end of it," Halle replied, jesting lightly.

Reciting her friend word-for-word, a smiling Hanna voiced, "Thank you, Halle, you're the best."

Halle's head tilted to the side and smiled. "You're welcome."

Hanna took a sip, eyes rolling back in delight at finally having her morning sugar and coffee blended irresistibly together with sweet vanilla. "Hmm," she hummed happily. Then, her now sparkling blues landed on the large book wedged under Halle's arm. "What's that?"

"Oh—" Halle followed her gaze and grimaced. "That." Almost snide, with a twinge of bitterness, Halle told Hanna, "We met a friend of Alison's today. God, I could've sworn it was her from the back."

"Who?" Hanna asked.

"Alison," Halle shot. The thought of that morning's new meeting — of CeCe Drake, her honeyed voice that turned sour in an instant; how she looked through Halle like she knew everything about her. "They're like some freaky twins, separated at birth or something. It was... It was just creepy."

Curious, as she missed out, Hanna queried, "Do we know her?"

"No — Alison never mentioned her," Halle vowed. "But..." She sucked her teeth then revealed, "Jason does... and that's what this is about." She manoeuvred the dense book out from under her arm and opened it roughly to where she wanted it to be. Halle started flicking through the pages, looking for the number she memorised in the library. "I checked out his yearbook."

"You went looking for her?" Hanna asked in surprise. A teasing smile appeared on her lips. "That's so Spencer of you."

The playful eye-roll Halle gave wasn't lost on Hanna. "I'm giving it to her after," Halle responded.

Hanna grabbed at the paper-bag with her pastry treat inside and shut her locker. She leant up against it, next to Halle, and peered over. "Did you find her?"

"Unfortunately," Halle groaned, with another roll of her eyes. She landed on the page she needed and pointed at the face she was introduced to. "Meet CeCe Drake."

Eyes went large. "Wow!" Hanna was blown away, her head coiling back in shock. "You weren't lying, she really does look like Alison." Hanna reached for her own hair, or lack of it. The length wasn't the same anymore. Neither was the style. The blonde remembered it well — blonde, a mix of lighter highlights, styled in the same long, fabulous curls that Hanna had just last year.

CeCe Drake was the image of Alison DiLaurentis.

"Prom queen, drama and debate club," listed Hanna, reading aloud the short paragraph under the photograph. "So, she's what? Like, an Alison and a Spencer?"

"Well, she seemed to know Melissa," Halle retorted.

Picking up on the shortness, Hanna looked to her friend with furrowed brows. "Why are you so pissy over this?"

A dramatic sigh escaped Halle. She craned her back against the cool metal of the locker, and Halle rolled it around to face Hanna. She almost seemed defeated within herself, disappointment lacing her next words. "She dated Jason."

"So?" Hanna was confused. She was baffled by the suggestion in Halle's voice, floored by the response. So, Hanna shot down an insecurity her friend might've had in that moment with her matter-of-fact tone. "Jason is dating you. Anyone can see Jason's obsessed with you. He's, like, head over heels in love with you. " Hanna promised firmly, "You have nothing to be worried about."

"Oh, I'm not worried, she ain't competition," Halle said back, which made Hanna release a tiny chuckle. Briefly, Halle smiled but it disappeared into a straight line again. "It's just... I knew about her."

"Who — CeCe?" questioned Hanna, eyebrows arched.

"That summer I was hanging out with Jason—"

"Making out with," Hanna put in.

"Fine — making out with Jason," Halle corrected under Hanna's insistent nature, "I knew he had a girlfriend. I knew about her, and now I have a face to put to her — and it's that." Halle gestured down to the yearbook, an empty void in her stomach that felt strangely like nothing. It was just there. Open while Halle teetered on the edge, staring blankly into total darkness. She wondered aloud, fearing no judgement from Hanna, "Is it bad I don't feel guilty? Like, it's selfish, right?"

Honestly, Hanna maintained like she always had, "I think you deserve to be selfish, you fix everything for everyone else."

"I am really happy right now. Like—" Halle rested her head back again, leaning it against the locker, and she beamed as though it ached her to do so, "I've never been happier."

"It's L-O-V-E — love, babe," Hanna said, smiling as she spoke in a sing-song fashion, "and it looks good on you." She nudged Halle with her elbow, and Hanna suggested wisely, "You should definitely talk to Jason, though."

"You think?" Halle asked, picking up on it.

"Well, you said CeCe doesn't bother you, and she's not your competition, so what could Jason that would change that?" Hanna posed, and Halle already knew the dreaded answer.

That Jason loved her.

CeCe Drake.

•

As she lay on Jason's bed, with the revelations of her day rattling around inside her skull, Halle tried not to stare as Jason too much. The towel from his quick shower hung low around his waist, water droplets coasting down the curve of his spine. However, it didn't matter how interesting she tried to make the white plaster above seem, her eyes always drifted back to him. The question nagged at her. It niggled at the back of her head, eating at her thoughts. Halle wanted answers, but for the first time, she wasn't exactly sure how to get them.

By chance, Jason's green eyes met with hers in the mirror. "You can ask," he said. "Spencer has."

Halle sat up. Her legs crossed; hands clasped in the centre of her lap. "CeCe Drake," she stated.

He quirked a brow up at her, through the mirror's reflection. "Is that a question?"

Dropping any softness in her tone, Halle returned pointedly, "Don't make it one, I might have more."

A sigh left him. His shoulders slumped; often he forgot what happened outside the four walls of his bedroom could influence what happened inside them. Jason looked at Halle, drinking in the desperation for peace she omitted, and came to the easy decision of sharing that history with her.

"We dated," Jason said. He turned around, facing her directly now. "It was brief, just that summer."

That Summer.

Halle knew it well. She cringed at how they referred to it, but it was the most obvious description. There was only ever one summer like it — a summer she found herself lost between comfort and chaos. It was That Summer. It would forever be That summer. Just like it was That Night.

Still, Halle spoke what she was told that morning. "She said intense, not brief."

"It was brief," Jason replied. "Doesn't mean it wasn't intense, and trust me," he stressed, almost feeling the magnitude of his words in that very moment as he recalled, "everything with CeCe is intense." His gaze held Halle's; the image of her on his bed was one he was introduced to That Summer as well. "You knew I had a girlfriend back then."

"I didn't know she looked like that," Halle retorted. A chill shuddered up her back, her right shoulder rotated around at the sudden jitter. "Or that she was freakish like Alison."

Jason chuckled, gentle but dripped in thin sarcasm. "Ali was freakish like CeCe," he countered back. "They spurred each other on. Made each other more cruel... more evil."

"Evil?" Halle questioned it. The girl knew her dead ex-best friend was a bad person — there was no dictating that one — but evil? It was so final. A seared branding that was too definite for Halle's liking. All of the rotten parts of Alison DiLaurentis weren't unfamiliar to Halle, having being on the receiving end of such venomous vitriol, but evil fell on deaf ears.

"Alison was much worse than she ever let on," Jason put in sadly. "At least to you girls, she had to keep you sweet somehow. Subtle manipulation was Ali's specialty. Cruelty was CeCe's."

Bewildered, the crease between her eyebrows prominent, Halle asked him, "How did you end up dating her, then?"

"Got me," he offered up, knowing how pathetic it sounded. "I was high or drunk, sometimes both, during most of that relationship." He realised it wasn't enough for Halle, so he tried again. Jason came over to her, sat himself down on the bed, and turned his body towards her. His hand reached out and took hers, threading their fingers together for something tangible. Halle was a good liar, but Jason knew if he kept his eyes on hers and their fingers locked, he'd sense — feel — the truth. "It was the start of summer, that first week away and my family dragged us to Cape May. I hadn't seen CeCe since graduation, and everything happened at Cape May. So much," Jason remarked, brows arched as he recalled it through his foggy memory. "But we weren't good together, if anything we brought out the worst in each other."

"She encouraged the drinking?" Halle asked, even thought she felt she already knew the answer.

"Partly," he said. "But I can't blame her. CeCe and I... we were incompatible." He gave a light scoff, a tad humourous. "Always felt like she was there for Ali and not me."

"So, why not break up with her?"

Jason said, "I tried — multiple times. We always got back together."

"And me," Halle said through her lashes. Her head was dripped towards their hands, rested in her lap, but her eyes looked up at him. "Where did I fit into that summer for you?" Finally, mild discomfort seeped in, tightening in her chest, and Halle theorized well, "I wasn't before or after, was I?" And despite already knowing the answer, she whispered, "I was during."

At first, Jason's head ducked down. He stared down at their hands. They hadn't gone slack, and Halle hadn't pulled away. On realisation, his head raised and he laid his eyes on her again. The look in her dark eyes told him everything — something that Halle had discovered a long time ago, that being known was being loved — and Halle knew every inch of him. The revelation of CeCe Drake and That Summer — her being during — wasn't said out of guilt or shame but rather quiet acknowledgement. They understood each other, and in that, Jason said, "You were all of them."

Honesty swelling within her certainty of them, Halle replied, "I don't care." She lifted her eyes to his face, sweetly smiling. Her free hand, the one not in his, reached up and her index finger swept his wet hair from his face. "From now on... I just wanna be after." The same hand rested on his jaw, and Halle closed the gap between them to press a kiss to his mouth. "Promise me that."

Jason kisses her again. "I promise." When they parted, their forehead rested against one another. Their eyes were still shut, them sitting not only in a good place but in an intimate and supportive one. Jason kept his eyes closed as he got out through ragged breath, "I have to go, I have to pick my folks up from airport."

Halle's lids opened. She asked, "Do you want me to go with you?"

Jason shook his head. He looked at her, no longer resting his forehead on hers. "No, but you're still on for dinner, right? I don't wanna have to go through that alone."

Nodding, Halle reassured, "Yeah, of course." She stroked his face with the pad of her thumb, comforting her boyfriend with a smile. "I'll be there."

•

Dinner was intense. From the moment the four of them sat down, it went south. Mr DiLaurentis still thought himself better than everyone and anyone, which often resulted in him clicking his fingers at the waiting staff or huffing frequently, which in turn made Halle suck her teeth and widen her eyes at Jason in pure disbelief. On the other hand, Mrs DiLaurentis was pleasant enough, arms out as she welcomed Halle, but clung to cocktails to make her night go smoother.

Halle had barely began to eat before the interrogation started. Jessica DiLaurentis, smiling, was the one to stir it all up. She looked over her son and the girl from across the road, their chairs moved closer for the purpose of tonight. Jason's arm was swung around the back of Halle's chair while Halle used her left hand to eat as she kept a solid hand on the knee of her boyfriend, squeezing when either of them needed reassurance.

"So," Jessica DiLaurentis said. "What do your parents think of you two getting together? Are they happy?"

"Happy?" Halle hadn't meant for it to sound so questioning, but it didn't. Even the smile she wore was sceptical, eyes darting between the distance Jason's parents. Halle looked to Jason, wanting assistance. "Uh, they're, um... coming around, I guess."

Jason kept smiling at her, reassuring her onwards. It was just dinner, his eyes told her, just one dinner and then they get to go home. "Yeah, it was obviously a bit a shock, but they're on board with us being together," Jason said.

Kenneth DiLaurentis let out a scoff, which caused Jason to shoot a glare over the table. Only, Jason's father wasn't looking nor was he bothered. Kenneth DiLaurentis didn't care. He just sipped at his scotch and gave the odd grunt or grumble at something he didn't like.

"And the girls." Jessica's face was lit up, eyes sparkling at the subject. "How did they take it? I bet it was hard for them, too," she said sympathetically.

"Yeah, they took a while," Halle replied, finding light amusement in it now. The whole Jason debacle of junior year, his untrustworthy and brooding nature led their opinions while Halle's was ruled by her heart. "But they've really come around to us," Halle informed happily. Her hand squeezed Jason's knee, her smiling up at him. "They're really supportive."

"Even that Hanna," Kenneth mentioned scornfully.

His tone shocked Halle. Her whole body froze. She hadn't ever heard anybody speak about Hanna like that before — not in that way or with such hatred.

"Dad," Jason tried to ease, which only served to add to Halle's confusion. She picked up on something picking at the males' surfaces, prying to peek out, and it drove her insane. "Let's not do this here."

"Do what?" Kenneth behaved indifferently. "This is your girlfriend, it's the company she keeps, and therefore it's the company you keep as well. But—" he turned to spite, "then again, I should never have high hopes for you keeping in good company. Your brain's too soaked in liquor to form a smart thought now. Why do you think we're here?" he threw out finally.

Halle's brows scrunched together above large eyes, baffled at the brash treatment Jason was receiving and taking without argument. She looked to her boyfriend, his head dipped down in shame, and Halle glanced back at the man responsible with fierce eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Halle, don't," Jason said.

"—To sort out his mess," Kenneth spoke over his son's attempt to cool the conversation down. He dryly mocked his son. "Tried to play hero, didn't you? Well, look how that turned out. Look at your mother," he encouraged with disgust. "Look at what you're putting her and this family through again."

"Kenneth," Jessica DiLaurentis spoke softly. She had pushed aside her cocktail, the glass bare of any liquid, and her eyes were now shiny with unshed tears. "It's not Jason's fault, he was trying to help."

"Well, he shouldn't," Kenneth shot her down instantly. He lifted his glass again. "Every time he tries to help, it turns out worse." He went to take a sip when his eyes caught onto Halle's seething ones. "Do you have something to say?"

"Oh, I have plenty," Halle returned.

"Are you just as cruel as your friend?" he asked of Halle, and spun her more confused.

"What friend?" she asked him. "Hanna?"

"She is just a spiteful as the last time I saw her," Kenneth DiLaurentis recalled. "That little prank almost broke your mother," he added in, staring down Jason again. "And you've chosen to date that girl's friend — your dead sister's best friend, mind you."

Halle let out a laugh, which horrified the table. "Hanna — Spiteful? Cruel?" Noticing Jason's wide eyes and Kenneth's stern glower, Halle's laughter died in her throat. She kept the disbelieving smile. "I'm sorry, but... Hanna? Hanna's far from... any of that," she defended. "Hanna is literally..." Halle struggled, stumped because she never thought she'd had to protect the blonde like this — against this kind of scrutiny. Finally, Halle had her confident answer. "If sunshine was a person, that's Hanna. She's not what — whatever you think of her."

After that, the rest of the meal didn't go well. They ate in near silence, them becoming mutes unless it was to thank the waiting staff, not that Kenneth DiLaurentis was doing that. At long last, Halle found herself on the curb's edge as she waited for Jason to return with the car. She used her jacket to shield herself from the cold and glanced back when she heard the door to the Apple Rose Grille open. A groan left her when she saw Jason's father step out without his mother beside him.

"Jessica's still chatting with your boss," said Kenneth DiLaurentis. "She likes being back here, more than I do," he commented, and Halle stayed quiet. Frankly, she had more to say to him but she bit her tongue for Jason. Still, Kenneth made it his life mission to irritate her. He continued his judgement, "I hope Jason's looking after you. God knows, he's bad at looking out for himself and I—"

"Okay — enough," Halle snapped. She faced the man, his height towering over her frame, but it didn't fault her firmness. "Respectfully, Mr DiLaurentis, shut up." This time it was her ignoring his mortified expression. "I don't wanna hear it. I don't wanna hear anything else come out of your mouth unless it's an apology to Jason." Bluntly, Halle said, "I don't like you, I don't like your attitude, I don't like how you treat Jason. You're not a nice person, and you're an even worse father to Jason. If you don't know how incredible your son is, then that's on you."

The door to the restaurant opened, but Halle carried on. "But if the day comes when you finally wake up and decide you wanna be a part of his life without being a total dick, then you better start being nice to him. Because I'm telling you now, there won't be a place for you if you keep treating Jason like that because I won't allow it," Halle strongly cautioned.

SLAM.

In the midst of her fierce rant, Halle hadn't noticed the convertible pull up alongside the curb. Then engine was off, and Jason stood outside the parked car staring at the two. Jessica DiLaurentis has too joined them, a gentle smile on her face. "I think it's time to turn in," said the woman. She went to Halle first. "It was so good to see you, dear," she said warmly. Jessica wrapped Halle up in a large hug, arms holding on tight. She whispered closely, "Thank you for loving my boy." She pulled back, smiling still. "You're good for him."

"He's good for me," Halle said.

As Jason bid his goodbyes to his parents, Halle refused to acknowledge Mr DiLaurentis. It added a chilly tension, but Halle wasn't about to go back on her defence especially when everything about tonight was ruined by the man in question. Yet, when they were gone, Halle sensed she did the wrong thing again.

"Are you mad at me?" Halle asked her boyfriend.

Jason shook his head. "I'm not mad."

His eyes told her that he was resigned. His shoulders slumped; an beaten version of himself displayed before his girlfriend after taking every hit his father shot at him. Jason was feeling suffocated, and Halle was understandable hesitant to add to that.

Approaching slowly, Halle slid into his hold. Her hands found his face and she held it there for a second, eyes gazing into one another. This struggle between them, the friction burning was ignited by others, but they caught on fire instead. Halle just had to make sure she calmed it before the damage was stoked and all that amassed in the end was ashes to a relationship burnt through.

"Do you need me to tell you that I think you're an incredible person?" Halle asked him delicately. Her dark eyes stared up at him, sincerity keeping them shiny with admiration. "That you're not the person he thinks you are, and that in no way is any of what he thinks about you true, and that I love you?" Her grasp on his remained stronger just like her words did. "Because I do," Halle said. "And I will. I'll tell you that every day if I had to. You're father is just— well, he's a dick, and he doesn't deserve you. You trusted your gut, and I'm so proud of you. You— you just need to keep trusting yourself, because I do — I trust you."

Halle kissed his cheek after. Her lips hovered there, grazing his skin, staying until she felt him nudge his cheek against them. Jason moved his head gently around so his own mouth would find hers, and he captured her up in a kiss. Weirdly, as sweet as it felt, as normal as kissing was for them, it didn't feel the same. Halle pulled back, considering him carefully, but Jason didn't have the same suspicion.

"Do you wanna—?"

He cut her off. "Hey, I'm gonna sort some things with work before I go home. Here," said Jason, as he placed his own car keys into the palm of her hand. "You're good to drive home, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"I'll be half an hour at most," he reassured. "I just need to sort something. I'll take the company car, you get home."

Blinking, Halle was unsure. "Okay... I, uh... Okay." She finally decided on just accepting it because tonight had been long and full of condescending chatter. "Will I see you at home?"

"Yeah, I'll be quick," Jason responded. He put a quick peck to her lips and then walked off in the direction of the office. If Halle had known what was to happen next, she never would've left him. She never would've let him walk away, and she never would've agreed to that damn dinner.

•

A loud clatter woke Halle up from her sleep. The rolling credits to 'Legally Blonde' played on her laptop, sat on the coffee table in the DiLaurentis house. Hazy, Halle blinked several times, a stray hand coming up to wipe at her tired eyes. With a groan, Halle leant out and paused the film. The upbeat song stopped just as another bang came from the far back of the house.

Halle bolted upright, anxiety flooding her body. The throw-blanket dropped from her front into her lap; her head whipped around towards where she knew the sound came from. She glanced at the clock, 10:49PM. Jason should be back by now. Another bang caused Halle to rise from the sofa. Her body rigid with terror. All the while she sat in sinking dread of A's first text to her, she hadn't been expecting a break-in.

Her fuzzy-sock covered feet trod on the floorboards she knew wouldn't creak. In panic, her eyes flickered around the sparse living room for a weapon. Halle came up empty. In desperation, heartbeat in her ears, Halle grabbed the nearest thing she could. Armed with a candlestick, Halle ventured carefully through the vast hallway, creeping slowly towards where the garage was. She itched closer to the side-door into it, each step she held her breath. Her head was light, fear surging through her vein just as blood rushed to her head.

The closer she drew to the door, the louder the odd bumps and grunts became. It was times like these, when Halle put herself at great risk, she wished fear paralysed her — that she could be the girl who hid in an upstairs closet and called the police. But Halle wasn't. She was the one who charged into nervous battle, armed ridiculously with a candlestick as if she was convinced it would do the most damage.

After steadying herself, a few deep breaths taken, Halle's free arm outstretched and reached for the doorknob. Her hand shook violently. She heard a grunt through the wood. With bated breath, Halle found a firm grip and yanked the door open. She screamed, her arms retched up with the candlestick brandished. She was ready to bring it down until she saw Spencer.

Inside the garage, Spencer looked up, eyes huge as her panic morphed into immediate relief. Under the crushing weight of a slouched and visibly intoxicated Jason, Spencer struggled to keep him upright. There was a glimmer of desperation simmering just beneath her surface pleas. "Help," she whimpered. "Help me."

Halle's arm dropped. In a blink of an eye, Halle put the makeshift weapon down and rushed forward. With one inhale, Halle almost gagged. Jason was sweating profusely, reeking of cheap whiskey which stunk like stinging disinfectant. "Is he drunk?" Halle asked. She wanted to cry, having not seeing him like this for years.

"Yes!" Spencer pushed out. "He crashed the car."

No longer staring down at her incoherent and close to unconscious boyfriend, Halle's eyes took in the red company car behind them. The front left side was caved in, metal crushed.

"I've gotta fetch my car," Spencer told her through pushed out breaths. She heaved Jason's weight upon both their shoulders. "I left it at the crash."

Wildly panicked, Halle asked, "Do you need me to drive you?"

"No, Toby will. Just— Jason needs help," Spencer said.

And yet again, Halle found herself saying words she had done before. "Go, I'll fix this. Go," she said. "I've got him."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. It was all a hazed hurry; her feet sprinted out of the DiLaurentis garage as fast as they could, and Halle was left with the crushing mass of Jason on her shoulders.

"Okay, let's sort this," she whispered to herself. She lifted Jason's weight, her arm firmly wrapped around his back and under the furthest arm from her. She tried to get him to walk, but he was uneasy on his feet, wobbling backwards. "Come on, Jason. Come on, work with me here."

Somehow, despite all the odds against her, Halle managed the trek back to the couch with Jason. It took her longer than expected, using the walls as support, but finally she got him there and tossed him off her. She let out an exasperate sigh, panting. Her chest rose and fell as rapid speed, her eyes stuck on her boyfriend's limp body now splayed out of the leather sofa.

Barely a beat passed, relief washing away, as Jason started to cry. He broke down into the cushion, eyes squeezed shut as to keep the water inside. "We're not gonna get justice. He killed my sister and he's gonna be a free man."

Garrett.

"They blame me, my father blames me."

This was because of Garrett.

And his parents. His father mainly.

Halle should've known. She never should've trusted Jason when he said he was okay with it — that stuff like this just happened. That ugly feeling she got in her gut was right, and Halle ignored it all because she trusted Jason's words. What a mistake that was, she thought bitterly.

She slid off his shoes and put them aside. Cautiously, Halle lifted Jason's legs up onto the couch and after, she used the same throw blanket that warmed her previously to cover him. Leaving him alone, even to grab a bowl and glass of water from the kitchen filled her body with anxiety. It flooded her senses, and the slight sound of movement had her rushing back in only to find her had turned his back to her.

It was in the silent discomfort of the DiLaurentis living room, Halle realised the magnitude of this situation. What it meant caused her to remove herself from him completely. Halle watched him sleep from afar. On the armchair across from the couch, she sat with her right foot propped up, flat to the surface while Halle hugged her leg into her chest. The goodness of it all — what she felt only earlier — turned like overripe fruit. In an act of preservation, Halle didn't want to see it fester or mould. She wanted it to be fresh and forever beautiful, but they were the fruits of their parents after-all. They were damaged and tormented, never even given a chance before being bruised, and before she knew it, Halle Brewster started to wonder if she was outgrowing Jason DiLaurentis.

She had outgrown situations like this, though.

•

SOS.
Aria's house now.
From: Hanna

The text came late. Halle didn't want to leave, but she had to go. She kissed Jason on the head, him groaning softly in his sleep, and it felt like a movie rolling to its evitable end.

An air of frosty absence hung above Halle, even as she was physically present. She kept to herself. While her four friends loaded onto Aria Montgomery's bed, two to each width, Halle stayed away on the foot-stool brought to them and listened.

"A code?" Spencer questioned.

"It's a stupid thing we made up back when we were friends," Hanna told them. She recalled her and Aria's bonding day at Radley visiting Mona Vanderwaal, after receiving her keepsake.

"Why wouldn't she just come out and say it?" asked Emily, it not quite adding up that Mona — their first A — was suddenly being helpful.

"Because Aria was there," said Hanna, both confident and instant. Aria's head shot up from where it laid on her knees, and Hanna added, "She doesn't trust her."

Offended, Aria shot back with her head forced out, "So it's my fault?" She chose to remind Hanna, "You gave the girl a pair of tweezers."

"Well, that's not ideal," muttered Halle from her huddled position.

"Look, Mona pushed me—" Hanna stressed severely, "to remember that day with Ali's dad because that's when she gave me the code."

Exhaustion led Spencer's tone as she said, "Okay, I have a French exam at eight AM." She quickly let her eyes fall over Halle, sharing the same tiredness, letting her mind wonder to Jason. "Could we just skip ahead to the actual message?"

"Ugh," Hanna let out with a loud sigh. Careful to be correct, Hanna shut her eyes and recounted what she remembered verbatim. There was no room for mistakes. "'No-one to save Ali from Evil.' That's what she kept saying." She instructed, "If you take the first letter of each word, you get—"

"'Not safe'," Spencer concluded. Aware of the questioning stares, mainly from Emily who was beside her, Spencer argued back with some bite, "It's not, like, that complicated."

Considering it, Halle returned, "I'd still need a pen."

"Yeah, but there's more," Hanna mentioned.

"Oh, my god—" Aria lifted her head, eager to remember, "what's that other poem? Something about Garrett and Maya," she said.

Eyes raised upwards, Hanna recalled, "'Where were we? Maya's away, sleeping sweet—'"

"W-W-W-M-A-S-S?" interrupted Spencer, already piecing it together while the others struggled to catch up. She snatched at the laptop. "She gave you a website," she said, as she began to type in the web-bar on an internet window.

Halle rubbed her forehead, a stress knot appearing already. "And you're giving me a migraine."

"What was the rest?" asked Spencer.

"'Until Garrett's all rosy, count on me,'" finished Hanna.

'"Massugar'?" Spencer questioned, brows knitted together in narrow suspicion. Either way, she typed it in, along with the conclusion of a website. "What does that mean?"

Mind clearing, Emily realised out loud, "M-A-S — that's Maya's initials. Anne was her middle name."

Out of the darkness of the laptop screen appeared Maya St. Germain's face. Photographed putting up two fingers; her head tilted to the side; soft curve at her lips; and dark eyes staring back, Maya haunted them from beyond the grave. Underneath, letter-by-letter, appeared a question.

WHAT'S THE MAGIC WORD?

A tiny beep sounded, and a tab popped up over the photograph. It requested the password to enter. Spencer span it around, settling the laptop on the cushion between her and Hanna's knees. All five stared at it, dread bubbling under their surfaces.

"I don't suppose Crazy slipped you the password as well," Spencer remarked.

Hanna, eyes large, remembered one last thing. "'Miss Aria, you're a killer not Ezra's wife.'"

Putting it together fast, Halle figured, "Maya Knows."

Spencer tried it, anticipation behind each tap of a laptop key. She hit enter, and 'ERROR, WRONG PASSWORD' appeared. While the mood dropped, Halle's gaze drifted over to Aria. She heard the crunch of Alison's skull again.

Miss Aria, you're a killer not Ezra's wife.

Emily asked, her fear stirring up again. "What does Maya know?"

Halle spoke in a broken whisper, "Who killed Alison."

Aria met Halle's eyes, sharing in the fear building with the four walls of her bedroom. "Did Mona mean she's not safe, or we're not?"

•

AUTHOR'S NOTE
SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG —
I GOT COVID AND HAVE BEEN RECOVERING FOR A LITTLE WHILE.
TOTALLY OKAY, JUST EXHAUSTED WITH NO INSPIRATION WHILE PROCRASTINATING.
THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN SAT UNFINISHED FOR LIKE TWO MONTHS, AND I DIDN'T WANT TO HALF-ARSE IT BECAUSE THIS HAS BEEN SUCH A PASSION PROJECT SO FAR, SO I WANTED TO WAIT UNTIL I FELT BETTER AND WAS HAPPY WITH IT.

ALSO ANGST IS COMING.
YEAH, THAT'S PRETTY MUCH IT.
THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT.

•