•

"EscApe From New York"

Sirens wailed close by. A gurney was hoisted up into the flashing ambulance. Ezra Fitz was on it, unconscious, breathing through the oxygen mask strapped to his face, which an EMT squeezed a bag-valve to ventilate. He was sheet-white. All the blood was draining from his skin, but the paramedics had somehow managed to currently clamp the bleeding.

"His pulse is getting weaker," they heard an EMT say to another.

Across the street, further down, The Liars battled to keep one of their own back. Aria was hysterical, crying over dried tears that strained her face. She begged them to release her. "Hey, let me go, please," she said.

Her friends restrained Aria back still, and Spencer pleaded with her in a whisper, "Stop."

By the police car, in the midst of the peaking chaos, Noel Kahn stood. His arms were folded while onlookers stretched near, over the cleared space, to the ambulance to gauge a better look. Noel, however, didn't. Coolly, he explained what happened to the officer. "I heard a gunshot and I ran up to the roof," he said. Glancing up a the tall building, the downstairs cafe had been cordoned off with yellow-tape. "But when I got there, he was lying on the ground."

"And the screaming?" asked the officer. "Witnesses said they heard a female screaming."

"Uh, my girlfriend," Noel answered. "My girlfriend was with me."

"We're going to need to collect a statement from her as well," said the officer.

"Of course," Noel replied.

Back across the street, Hanna refused to slacken her iron-grip on a struggling friend. "Aria," she tried, "we cannot do anything right now."

"If they think you know anything about this, you're gonna spend the entire night answering questions at the police station," reasoned Spencer.

"Questions we ain't got answers to yet, alright?" said Halle flatly. "We can't go barging in like we're the one who gon' get believed."

"We shot him, okay?" began Spencer. "And the only way we're getting to that hospital is if the cops don't notice us."

"They're right," Emily agreed. "We'll find out where they're taking him and we'll get there. When we get his confession on tape, then we can finally put this whole thing behind us, okay?"

"She shot him," Aria said heatedly. Her eyes were swarmed with hot tears. "Ali shot Ezra."

"She was protecting us," Emily excused for the absent girl.

"Was she?" The shaky questioned left Hanna. Her hand was still trembling at the phantom feelings of the gun shooting out of the barrel. It vibrated throughout every bone of her body, her ears ringing with the gunfire. Hanna was the one pointing the gun. Alison fired with Hanna's finger on the trigger. By default, Alison made Hanna killer when Ezra said she wasn't capable.

It stumped Emily. "Y—Yeah, of course," she said. "It was him or us."

A steely look crossed Hanna's stare as she turned it to Emily. "We were the ones with the gun, not him."

Over the heads of many, Halle felt her eyes naturally drift across the street again. They met Noel's. His were akin to Halle's — panicked, wary and scared. It was like she was seeing him for the first time, and him with her. The two were finally equal and both involved. They both knew about Alison and A and what happened on that rooftop.

Halle thought back on it. Those moments blurred, but she remembered her hands were bloody, thick with crimson, when Noel found them. He was afraid as Halle pleaded with him to help — as they all did — Noel did it without hesitation. He was the one to call the ambulance, instructing Halle and her friends to flee the scene as a siren sounded. He had got this. He had been fixing it.

For them.

For Alison.

For her. Noel always was.

"Folks, could you step back please?" directed another police officer. She ushered the onlookers, caught up in the entertainment, back with her open palms.

The doors to the ambulance were shut and the siren sung loudly to life over the patrol car's wails. As it drove off, Alison watched over them all. Up high, on the metal fire escape of the building opposite, Alison locked her eyes to the emergency vehicle as it sped down the street. Her gaze captured another. A glimpse of red lingered by the corner. Alison strained to see.

A brunette.

In a red coat.

Ezra's Red Coat was in New York with them. She was here.

For them.

•

Outside a small convenience store — one Alison knew that it, along with all the conjoining backstreets, weren't covered by the city's vast CCTV — the group gathered together. Emily was inside purchasing a few items with the cash that Noel had lent her while Spencer dug out the just-bought disposable cell from the box that Aria held Spencer handed it to Hanna and said, "You know what to say, right?"

"Just his name, that he's still in danger," Halle listed carefully. "Don't give yours."

"Don't stay on the line a second longer than you have to," Spencer instructed.

Hanna nodded, absorbing everything they had told her. Then, she stepped away to make the call they had previously argued tirelessly over.

Emily exited the store and gifted Alison the pepper-spray she had bought inside. "It's the strongest one they had," she said. Growing serious, Emily pressed her, "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Ezra's A," justified Alison lowly. "And his second-in-charge showed up to finish the job."

"Look, Em," Aria collected, "the plan was to get Ali out of town tonight, but now that we know that Red Coat's after her..."

"I get that A wants to shut Ali up, okay?" Emily inserted out of concern. "But that's not a reason to make her a bigger target. Can't we think of another way to do this?"

The Liars struggled to find one. Alison had tended to have a nasty habit at putting them in harm's way, so why couldn't they return the danger once?

Calmly, Halle said, "Hey, the plan's gotta safety net, alright? The cops are gonna be close by in case we screw up, Han's sorting it for us now."

In a shaky voice, traumatised by the pinkest-red stain to hr palms, Aria replied, "If Ezra..." She stopped, a wave of nausea upon her shoulders, lurching. "When Ezra pulls through, he's gonna go to jail, and this thing is finally gonna be over."

Her vow was met with silence. None of them — not even Aria — fully trusted it. Doubt ate away at the six, patiently until it at last consumed the whole. They were set to be in the belly of the A-beast, not free. Never free.

"Uh, hi," Hanna sounded too unsure on the phone. "The guy who just got shot at Bank and Hudson is Ezra Fitz... Yeah. I think that you should send a cop to the hospital because I saw what happened, and I don't think this was a random thing... Well, yeah, but he might not be safe so you better go fast," she firmly implied, and Hanna then hung up right after. She joined them but the curb, and Aria looked at her expectantly.

"Are they sending somebody?" asked Aria anxiously.

"Yeah, I heard her typing," Hanna answered. She was fiddling with the back of the phone she used, prying the back open to snatch out the sim-card. Only, during it, she felt Aria's stare bear down on her. Reassuringly, Hanna said, "Look, they're probably on their way."

"I'll take that," Noel said, after he joined them. He plucked the sim-card directly out of Hanna's hold and added, "I'll get rid of it." He glanced between the six girls. "You guys ready to go?"

As Spencer put a comforting hand on the middle of Aria's back, a worried Emily asked, "Are we sure that we wanna split up?"

Formally, Spencer launched into her reasoning, "A wise commander takes measure to always let his opponent react to the wrong set of circumstances. And in 400 BC—"

"Okay, okay!" Hanna cut in, exclaiming as she rolled her eyes. "Spencer, we get it. We're decoys. We don't need a history lesson."

Smirking, Alison showed off her knowledge also. "There's no art to this war, Spencer."

It surprised Spencer thoroughly. Her amazement was clear and patronising, "You've read Sun Tzu?"

"Okay, are we ready?" Halle checked in first, not wanting to get into an intelligence battle on a street corner. When she saw their nods, Halle said, "Okay, then turn that cell off — only use it if you have to. The cops are gonna be tracing that phone now, you're their only lead."

"Okay, let's go," Aria said, ready to split off with Alison.

"Hold on," Noel called them back. "Who has the gun?" he asked, and they all stayed quiet. "I'm gonna need it," he said seriously. "Look, A's out the game right now, Red Coat's on her own, and if you guys get caught — the cops are connecting that gun to them and you. So, give it over," he said with his hand out already, primed to take it.

Emily went to move when Spencer slapped her arm across the former's chest. "Wait," she ordered. Her eyes narrowed in accusation. "You're heading straight to the cops, why would we give it to you?"

"Because I'm not stupid enough to leave you guys with it," noel countered. "You can't just dump it or walk into a hospital with it when you've just sent cops to that same hospital — think smarter." Noel straightened up and told them, "That gun needs to end up in some other place that's not New York, and I'm your only option." His voice dropped. "Give it to me, now."

Halle accepted his justification wholeheartedly. "Give it to him," she repeated, shocking the others. "We have to trust him and the only way we do that is by trusting him, so give it over."

From the back of her jeans, tucked in them, Emily fetched the gun. She had been the one to fish it out of Hanna's shaking hands and hid it on her person from the moment Noel had called the emergency services. Discreetly, she handed it over to Noel. She looked him in the eye. "Look after her," she strongly said.

"With my life," Noel responded, as he grabbed the weapon by the barrel to hide it in his jacket.

Aria watched. She got the horrendous knot in her gut when she realised the weight of the gun hadn't caused Noel's hand to dip. Her brain replayed the gunshot all the time — how it felt to hold Ezra as he collapsed to the ground. In her head, she was sure the gun would be heavier — that there would be some jerk-reaction, but there was none. All Aria could see was red. Red as blood leaked into Ezra's grey t-shirt. She wondered if it came down to it, if it was her with the gun, if she could've pulled the trigger.

She held a rock.

Hanna said to Aria and Alison, "We'll give you ten minutes, okay, and then we're making the call."

At that, the group dispersed. While Halle and Noel were set to return down the alley that shortly led to where Ezra was shot, Aria with Alison broke off to the right as the rest went left. On the corner, Emily turned back to watch Halle wander off in the dark with Noel Kahn. When his arm came around Halle to usher up the speed, Emily's worry spiked higher.

"Em..." Hanna realised that Emily was absent from their side. "Em, come on," she said.

"Look, if you wanna get to the hospital before them, we have to go now," Spencer stated, pushing.

"You know that A is always one step ahead of us," Emily remined them, afraid still.

"Yeah, but the bitch is currently on an operating table," Spencer brutally chided. "And Red Coat's more noticeable than A, and you have to remember that Ali's been hiding in plain sight for two years."

"And if it's Halle you're worried about, don't be," added Hanna truthfully. "She can handle herself, always has done."

"Yeah, and as much as I don't trust Noel, he won't let anything bad happed to Halle — ever," Spencer forcefully admitted.

Hanna added, "And if A sees us there first, then this could work."

"But we have to all be there," finished Spencer, and Emily gave an unwilling sigh before she began walking again.

They had to pull off part one of their plan if they were going to win.

•

Riley Brewster had been successfully returned to her bed on the promise she'd get the next day off to catch up on rest. The night was almost over, after all, having turned half four in the morning. Myles had yet to come home with Pacha after he stormed out at three. Since then, Luisa and Nick stationed themselves in different rooms. They refused to speak a word to each other; as every time they tried, it blew up into an argument.

In the armchair, Luisa stewed. Her head was slack against her numb palm while she started to drift off. Her lids were exhausted, heavy and drooping with each second. It had been a mere hour since the police officially left with Halle's belongings in evidence bags; Nick had put up a huge fight for the items that weren't listed on the warrant. He had taken them to his office, locking the door like he tended to do nowadays. It only drained of Luisa more, until, eventually, she sank into the depths of the blue chair.

Moments later, after she cherished the darkness of her closed eyelids and the quiet that followed, a knock disturbed her. Startled, Luisa gasped awake. Hope filled her in a rush. "Halle!" she whispered excitedly and leapt up to answer it. Flinging the front door open, Luisa's heart took a pummelling. On her porch was Lieutenant Tanner, behind her blue and red flooded the street.

"Mrs Brewster."

"Nick?" called Luisa. Her heart raced. Her dread catapulted and morphed with the rising aguish that was fast approaching. Halle wasn't with the state police. "Nick!" Luisa started to panic. "Nick! Nick — come quick!"

From out of the kitchen, her husband appeared. The landline was clutched in his hand — his own father on the call — and his hope drowned in the cherry red down the bottom of his driveway. "Don't." His voice cracked, his mind dwelling in the worst of his dark thoughts. The lines of his face marked his worry. "Don't say it, don't say her name."

"Can we come inside?" Tanner requested coolly.

Shaky, worried hands found each other. Nick and Luisa gripped at each other, holding out as they waited for the state police to speak once they were all situated in the living room.

"As you know, after we tracked the girls' cell-phones and Spencer Hastings' vehicle to Philadelphia, police officers were sent out to that location," Tanner explained. "Those items have been located, however, the girls weren't."

"What?" Luisa questioned it.

"It appears that the girls have left their belongings in that location to throw us," Tanner told them. "We're currently unable to locate them."

Luisa's strained voice let out her maddening concern, "Could they have been taken?"

"There's no sign of a struggle or that the girls were forced of coerced into abandoning the vehicle," said Tanner. "Do you have any idea where Halle would go in Philadelphia or anywhere?"

"Uh, well, Nick's sister lives there," Luisa mentioned. Her worried eyes shot back and forth between her unnaturally quiet husband and the lieutenant. "But there's no reason she'd go there. No," she said, "if Halle was in trouble, she'd come to us." She was helpless entirely. "She'd call Nick."

Nick froze up. His passive face twisted in discomfort.

"Mr Brewster?" probed Tanner curiously, having noted his unusual behaviour.

"I—" He shook his head, "she's not contacted me, or my sister. She wouldn't go to there anyway."

"Are there any other family members in the area?" asked the lieutenant.

"Uh, no," Nick replied. "My mom and dad still live here, so does everyone else."

"My sister lives out of state, in New York," Luisa stated. "There's no way she could be with Halle—"

Nick interrupted, "Are we sure she's with her friends?"

"We're pretty certain of that," replied Tanner. "But we are concerned that they're potentially in danger. Unfortunately, we've have not only Ezra Fitz break his bail conditions tonight, but..." she paused seeing the anger across for her, "CeCe Drake escaped police custody."

Luisa outcried, "What?!"

"Officer Maple was found unconscious outside of town," informed Tanner. "We are unable to locate Miss Drake nor our patrol car."

Luisa scoffed at her. "The cops in this town are ridiculous. Our daughter—" she stressed and Nick breathed deep on the verge of his breaking point, "came to you for help and you called her a liar. The whole town is calling her a liar and it turns out she could be in danger, so why would she call the police, huh?" Luisa shot mercilessly, "You wouldn't believe her anyway."

"Mrs Brewster, we are—"

"You had one job," fumed Nick over them both. His temper burned brightly. His fury had been roasting away until he was livid with it. Anger screamed his his dark eyes, so much like Halle's in those moments. "You have one job!" he shouted, shocking the two women. "To keep people safe! To arrest and detain the bad guys! You should all be suspended for stupidity!" He snapped violently, "When are you going to find my daughter?!"

Collected under the amounting pressure, Tanner said, "We are doing all we can to find Halle and her friends. We actually want to talk to her about something important, which was recovered from her bedroom."

It stilled Halle's parents' joint-rage. "What?" asked Luisa.

Tanner glanced to the right, at an officer, and he immediately came to her with several evidence bags. They were set down on the coffee table; once they were, the officer retreated from them. It left Tanner to explain them. "These were found under Halle's bed," she stated. "In a trunk."

For them all to witness were items that made the severity undeniable. In the plastic bags, Tanner was able to show Halle's parents just how good of a liar their daughter was. One bag was full of carefully torn out pages of a diary, another had letter written to Jason That Summer; a chucky doll that was designed to look like Halle with her dark curly hair and her name around the neck; the mother-of-pearl lighter from Halle's grandmother; and two postcard with red writing on them.

"A."

It easily fell out of Nick Brewster's mouth. He reached for one of the bags, the one with the postcard where he could clearly read the haunted letter.

Luisa was captivated by the doll. She tracked her fingers lightly over the plastic that covered the doll's face. "These were in her room? She kept them?"

"I think Halle was scared something like what happened with the texts would happen," Tanner revealed. "She thought A would try to set them up, so she kept these as evidence."

"Because you wouldn't believe her," Luisa accused bitterly.

Tanner swallowed. She ignored it and directed her focus to the evidence that Nick overlooked. "Those along with the lighter," she said, "are some of the keepsakes that the girls put inside of Alison DiLaurentis' casket. Now I don't know what these threats are, nor do I know how Halle got them, but I'm very interested to find out." She cautioned them, "And if I'm right with my theory, then it means Halle lied to me in an official police interview about A."

"So you believe them?" wondered nick impatiently.

"I do not know what I believe," replied Tanner with a strong shake of her head. "But I can hazard a guess at the truth of what's going on here," she gathered reasonably. "A is back, and Halle is lying to cover up a secret. And that secret," she concluded, "is that Alison DiLaurentis is not the girl in the grave."

•

"Keep your head down."

Alison kept reminding Aria of that one very precise and serious instruction the entire journey.

"And get rid of that," Alison said, snatching the patterned scarf from around Aria's neck.

Quickly balling it up, Alison tossed it in the trash-can they past on the way out of the station's platform.

"And zip up your jacket, you can't have the cameras track you through the city," Alison advised. "They'll see your clothes and track your every move, trust me."

Aria obeyed each word. She followed Alison closely, watching the blonde like a hawk. She brought up, "I don't understand how Ezra found us."

"Maybe he didn't find us," Alison justified. "Maybe he was following you all the way from Philly to here."

It gobsmacked Aria. "A was following us," she said in sheer bewilderment. "This is what you were always so afraid of — that we'd lead A to you."

"Aria," said Alison, "Ezra was always gonna find me, he was too close. He knew about Ravenswood; I never stood a chance against him."

"Ali..." Aria stilled on the sidewalk, her heart ached as the core was pulled at. She waited for Alison to face her. "I'm sorry," Aria said. "For everything."

The words were the same as Alison's own, apologising before what happened was even revealed. So, Alison replied, "That makes two of us."

"I know I shouldn't be thinking about it, not while Ezra's— while A could be dying, but—" Aria paused at her awful correction, "can you ever forgive me for what I did?"

"Let's...." Alison turned away from her. "You're right," she said. "Now's not the time." She ignored Aria's guilt, twisting away. "Come on, let's go."

•

"The police have also widened their search for the five missing Rosewood teens, who they believe are in Philadelphia, with Alison DiLaurentis. The youth went missing two years ago and is thought to have been brutally murdered—"

Mona Vanderwaal watched is awe. From the comfort of her couch, with all the lights off, the blue light from the television screen brightened her wide gaze. At the news, she went to reach for her phone — to send out a Code Red — when her porch light came on.

It startled her. Rising, Mona pulled her robe tighter. She walked to the front door and opened it to the visitor who hadn't knocked, due to the extremely early hour.

"You've seen?" said the person she wasn't expecting.

Mona stepped out onto the porch, crouching for to the stroke the lovable german shepherd. "I did," she confirmed. She looked up and locked eyes with Myles Brewster. "Did you know?"

Myles shook his head. "This changes everything."

A coy smirk pulled at Mona's lips as she said, "You're right, welcome to the team."

•

Their steps were determined, but they had their heads tucked low. They had come up through the secondary entrance and up the long, slender corridors. Hanna rounded the corner first, at a rapid pace, and connected with the sign.

'Surgical Waiting Area'

From the left arrow, Hanna stated, "This way."

With their heads down, the three girls avoided the waiting room and continued forward. They swerved past it, heading for the far side, hoping to not catch the main cameras, when they halted abruptly. Hanna's arms flung out at what she saw.

Red Coat.

"Whoa, let's go," Emily said, and backed the small group up. They were slightly on edge, panicked, while they awkwardly loitered in the quiet waiting room, hidden behind a concrete pillar.

"Okay, now what do we do?" asked Hanna, realising they had walked directly into the plan without a second to breath.

Scared, Spencer voice timidly, "We wait."

Chancing it, Spencer moved first. She entered the main section and swiftly made for the row of chairs facing out at the window, away from the cameras and the nurse's station. She swiped up at the top magazine from the pile and took the closest seat. The other two copied, joining Spencer on the plastic chairs, all pretending to read while they waited.

Emily whispered, "I hate this."

"Let's just hope it works," returned Spencer in a low mumble.

"Are we sure it will?" Hanna asked. "We're down two, Red Coat's gonna notice that."

"Red Coat's gonna assumed we're gonna split evenly," Spencer justified their plan. "Three-three — and when the bitch sees Ali break off, we strike."

"God," Emily prayed lowly, "I hope Halle's okay."

•

The puddle splashed as Halle's boot plunged into it. She stepped off the curb after Noel, hurrying to keep up with his long legs. He took to the dark streets of New York in strides. For every one step of his, Halle had to take two. Yet, she kept up with his pace, frightened if she slackened.

His arm was out in front of her, behind him. He could easily reach out and grab at Halle if she did fall behind too far. Noel was constantly monitoring where Halle was, checking over his shoulder to register her whereabouts. "We're almost there," he said.

"Where?" Halle asked him.

Down a low-lit alleyway, Noel led Halle to the same blackened-out car that they drove to the city in. He pulled the keys out of his jacket pocket, pressed the unlock button and caused the lights to flash yellow. Noel opened up the trunk, shocking Halle when he lifted the floor to reveal a hidden hatch.

"You need to wash your hands," Noel said straightaway. He pulled put a a can of shaving foam and bottle of water, cracking it open, before he handed it over to her. "The foam gets rid of the stains," he explained when he registered her confusion.

"Oh, thanks."

An appreciative smile pulled a little at her mouth as Halle accepted both. She uncapped the can first and sprayed a palmful in the shaving foam into it, rubbing it all over her hands. Then, Halle poured a quarter of the water over both of her hands, giving the bottle back to Noel before she washed her hand clean of the pinkish stain to her palms from all the blood. Much to her pleasant surprised, her hands had never appeared more shiny. She wiped them dry on her jeans while Noel busied himself with the other items in his secret hatch.

From within it, Noel opened up another box to reveal a row of tightly compact white cards that Halle would soon learn were false ID. As Halle took more in, she noted the large plastic bag full of wads of cash, bound in their amounts. There was a heavy-duty machine inside also — one Halle could only gather helped him clean the money — and alongside it was a scanner used for all the cards. He surprised her by handing one of them, an ID with Halle's own picture on it.

"Cassie Dempsey?" Halle read aloud from it as she inspected it. She lifted her brows at him. "Noel, why do you have this? Did you know this would happen?"

"My job is to prepare for the worst," Noel said to her. "I have one for every one of you." Strongly, he advised, "Memorise that, just in case."

"In case?" she questioned, startled by everything.

"In case the cops quiz you," returned Noel. "And since you weren't with me at the scene, you ought to know your lies inside out, okay?" He seemed peeved when he added a new remark, "You should be good at that."

Halle sucked her teeth and for the first time since she walked off with him, she bravely stood her ground despite it being unsteady. "Well, likewise, asshole," she said. "At least you knew I was lying, I had no clue about how good of a liar you were."

Noel halted. "Hal..." his voice softened at the hurt swelling in her tone. "I didn't mean it like that—"

"It's alright," Halle interrupted him sharply. "We don't need to talk about it right now, we don't have time. Like you said, the longer your girlfriend don't show her face, the more suspicious it looks."

He seemed to accept it in defeat. "You're right." Then, what he did next to scared her. Noel reached inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out the gun from before.

Halle gasped in shock, "Noel!"

"I can't keep it on me," Noel said obviously. "We're gonna go to a police station, I can't take a gun inside of it." Strangely, he gripped the gun by the barrel — and only the barrel — like he had done when he collected it from Emily earlier.

Halle watched every move his made with an intense eye. It confused her to see him transfer it into a cloth to then drop it into a seal-tight, plastic bag. "Why ain't we chucking it? There's a drain right there," she said, motioning to it.

"It's safer to wait until we're out of city to dispose of it," Noel told her flatly. "They're gonna search every street once they find out Fitz is a Fitzgerald."

"'Cos he's rich," Halle recalled.

After hiding the gun bag in his hatch, Noel glanced to her as he pointedly stated, "Because his mom's a socialite." Quickly, Noel closed the hatch and the trunk with a hard slam. "Come on," he said. "Lets go lie, shall we?" he jested with that signature Kahn-grin that Halle knew well. His older brother shared the same one.

Then, the two were off again. The two were hand in hand, palms flat to each other's, as they braced the humid air. Noel locked his grip on Halle, them weaving down the slender sidewalks of the city, dodging early incomers on their way home or off to work, as he coached her through their story. It was busier than Halle expected; she gathered that was why Noel kept a firm hold of her hand. He didn't want her getting lost. Halle could get lost in New York. She couldn't in Rosewood. She missed that feeling. She longed for it.

The police station was colder than the one at home. Halle tried to keep her dithering to a minimum. She was chilly, not anxious. Noel could sense it. "Do you want a sweater?" he asked.

Glancing to her side, Halle gave him a once-over. "You ain't got a sweater."

"In the car," he said. "I can get you it after we finish here."

Her eyes scanned the frantic bustle of the station. It was packed with people, them going in and out the whole time that they sat waiting. She remarked to him, "Don't look like we're getting out of here anytime soon."

"We'll there's been a shooting, hasn't there?" Noel replied indignantly, and Halle took a sharp intake of air. Sweetly, Noel placed a hand to her knee. "It'll be fine," he said. "We'll do this, Ezra will wake up, we'll go home and report him as A."

Glowering, Halle shoved his hand from her. "How's that gonna work, huh?" she shot. "The whole point is we don't get caught with the gun, right?"

"The whole point is we don't get caught with the gun if he dies," Noel challenged her stormily. "If he gets through surgery, we own up and tell the cops it was self-defence."

"And us lying right now?" she questioned, baffled. "That backfires."

Noel settled back in his chair. "Then, you better get praying," he said, far too relaxed for Halle's liking. He smirked at her. "Only way we don't go down is if we pull this off."

Huffing, Halle jammed her elbow in his side, causing him to wince. "You're a real jerk—"

"Miss Dempsey?" an officer called out the name she recognised from the ID.

"Yeah?" Halle pointed to her chest. "That's me."

"You can come into room four," said the policeman. As she and Noel stood to join him, he introduced himself, "I'm Officer Haynes, I'm going to be taking your statement."

"Cassie," Halle said naturally, her hand out to shake the officer's. Holding it, she asked, "Sorry, can my boyfriend join us?"

"Sure," Officer Haynes said. "We have a couple follow-up questions for him."

"You do?" wondered Noel, taken aback by it.

"Yeah, a few developments," mentioned the officer, as he began to led them down the hallway to the interrogation room. "Sorry about this," he chuckled after they had to serve a few cops on the way. "Busy night."

"Oh, no worries, man," Noel assured him. "That's why we thought we'd come down, you know, instead of you chasing us down tomorrow."

"Thanks for that," Officer Haynes appreciated, opening the door wide for them.

Halle and Noel entered first, smiling gratefully at the kind gesture. They took the two seats on the other side of the desk. Halle wasn't foreign to rooms like this, but she was never treated so fairly in one prior.

"This should be quick," said Officer Haynes with a brief smile. He joined them at the table, a piece of paper and a pen with him. "So, you were on the roof as well?"

"Yeah," answered Halle truthfully. It was the most honest statement she'd make in this room. "We just... stumbled on that man," she said, acting like she was baffled by the whole ordeal. "And we knew we had to get help."

Officer Haynes clarified, "Several other witnesses said they heard a woman screaming on the roof? Are you saying you were the woman screaming for help?"

"Yeah, that was me," Halle simply replied, as the police officer jotted down her replies. "It was only us on the roof, so it must've been me they heard."

"So what happened?" he asked. The officer encouraged her, "Talk me through it, in your own words."

"Well, we were walking down the street — we had just come from a couple blocks down east," she mentioned, casually gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb, "—when we heard this gunshot, I mean, it was so scary," she said. "And Adam—" She glanced to Noel, "he likes to play the hero a lot — it really, really gets on my nerves, if I'm honest with you," she added for a personal touch. "But he ran up the fire escape and found that poor man lying there, bleeding." She enlarged her eyes, forcing herself to tear up. "I came up after. Adam tried to stop the both, but... I just started yelling for help. Screaming over the side of the building while Adam rang 9-1-1."

"If you don't mind me asking, why were you out so late?" wondered Officer Haynes. "It was four-thirty-seven when the call came in," he stated.

"Uh..." Halle dipped her head, eyes travelling nervously to the side of her where Noel sat. "Well, we had had this huge blow-out fight," Halle said.

"Huge," bristled Noel, and the officer glanced to him.

Halle carried on, "We were up the majority of the night fighting, shouting at each other, really, and..." She let out a depressing sigh, "it just go too much for us to be in that apartment together. I couldn't breathe, so I grabbed my coat to leave."

"I grabbed mine, too," Noel said. He assured the officer, "I didn't want her going out on her own." He looked directly at Halle, reaching for her hand. This time, Halle didn't shove him away, and she gave him a look she knew he had been yearning for years. She looked at him like she loved him — like she was thankful for him — and Halle hated how she hurt him with it. Noel swallowed painfully, "Now I'm glad I did."

"So—" Officer Haynes pointed the pen at her, "why weren't you at the scene when we arrived?"

Halle lied perfectly, "I have a really severe reaction to blood—"

"She vomits," Noel said, causing Halle to glare at his profile. "Profusely."

"Yeah, it can get really bad," Halle assured. "I think that's why I was so loud on that rooftop, you know, screaming the way I was."

"I told her to head back to the apartment to calm down," Noel said coolly. He apologetically added, "I know it was the wrong thing to do, Officer, but she was in a really bad state and I couldn't embarrass her like that when I knew she'd be throwing up for the next half hour just thinking about the bl—"

Halle gagged audibly. Her hand shot up to her mouth, like a makeshift plug and she puffed out her cheeks. Convincingly, she sold their lie and made the officer jolt backwards in fear of her projectile vomiting. A sheepish smile appeared at her mouth. "Sorry."

"It's perfectly fine, ma'am," the officer said, more wary of her being sick. "Uh, there was a phonecall," he brought up. "A women call in to say that she saw the shooting, that it wasn't accidental." Officer Haynes looked between the couple. "Did either of you see another woman? Or someone leaving the scene at all?"

Searching Noel's face, Halle played it off like she was checking with her boyfriend. "No," she answered with a soft shake of her head. "No, we didn't see anyone."

"Like I told you earlier," Noel replied, "it was just him there when we got to that roof."

After the officer finished writing, he said, "Okay, well, that's brilliant." He slid across the paper to Halle and told her, "I just need you to read this through, correct anything that's wrong, and sign your statement when you're happy."

"Thanks," Halle said, and accepted the pen from him as well.

Officer Haynes stood. "I'll give you a few minutes," he stated, then left the pair alone.

While Halle was busy reading through the words of the page, Noel was staring at her. She looked tired, he noted but didn't say it. What he did say was, "You did good."

"Don't," Halle warned. She barely moved her mouth as she said, "Cameras."

"They're not on," Noel stated to her. "Look." His eyes pointed out the camera in the far left corner and revealed there was no red light.

Halle saw it, too. "Right." Once she finished, she sat back to allow him to glance at the page. "Is this right?"

"If you think it is," returned Noel. "I trust you."

I don't trust you, Halle almost let slip. She stifled it. She kept a firm lock on that, but grew more curious to the facts that Noel had coached her through for this very interview. They were alone — and had time — so she poked at what little she knew. "The apartment?" she asked.

"It's a safe address," assured Noel.

Halle questioned it, "Ali stayed there?"

"Sometimes," Noel gifted. "Between there and the Mockingbird, people don't search big cities for teens like Alison," he said.

The crease between her brows appeared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means pretty, rich suburban girls like Alison don't run away like all the other homeless teens," noel reasoned obviously. "They disappear, they're taken."

"Kidnapped, you mean," Halle gathered. Her annoyance spiked, repulsed at what he had said. "Well, so are the girls who ain't pretty or rich or from suburbia. They get hurt, too."

"I never said they didn't," he gently returned. "I just said Ali wasn't in the places people would be searching."

Her eyes held Noel's. She realised as he spoke, as she continued to look at him, that he knew far more about Alison's disappearance than she ever would. He had known Alison was alive and about A since the night Ian died in the bell tower. Halle knew she should feel betrayed — and she did, passionately — but alongside it was a weird sense of security that Noel had been helping Alison; that Alison wasn't alone throughout it all. She had Noel, even when Halle didn't.

"I get it," she said. "I get why you helped her and why you kept it a secret, but—" she stressed to him gravely, "I can't accept that you cornered me, pushed me to tell you when you knew about A."

Noel insisted, "I wanted you to tell me."

"You were giving me no choice," Halle defended her own actions. "But... " She softened, "thank you." She said sincerely, "For saving me and my friends at the lodge."

"I'd always save you," Noel told her, earnest with every fibre of his soul. His gaze pinned her to the chair. "So, you're welcome."

The door open, and the two broke their intense stare. Officer Haynes smiled at them and asked, "Is everything in order?"

"Yes," Halle answered him with a bright smile, and then happily signed the fake name from the ID Noel had given her.

Cassie Dempsey.

•

"Annalise Day, please report to the Emergency Room. Annalise Day, report to the Emergency room."

Hope damned the three who waited. Their plan was in motion and they writhed in their plastic chairs, gulping at the tannoy message. They stayed put, watching every corner for movement; every second added to their already climaxing anxiety.

Then, a glimpse of red passed them by. It happened so quickly that it scared the three girls. "Is that the sign?" asked Hanna, abruptly more terrified than before. "Do we move?"

"Mhm-mm," hummed Emily with another fearful gulp.

"Red Coat's on the move," Spencer announced to them, instantly bolting up.

"What do we do?" Emily asked, right behind Spencer.

"We follow the plan," Hanna ordered. "Red Coat's not missing her chance to get her hands on Ali."

Quickly, the girls shot across the waiting room. They made it in time to see Red Coat with her back to them. They glimpsed at it just as the elevator doors closed right in front of them.

With a slap to Emily's jacket, Spencer stated, "Stairs," and they swiftly headed to the door leading to the enclosed stairway.

Meanwhile, Alison had split off from Aria. She left Aria at the nurse's bay and the blonde quickly used the push doors to exit the emergency room where she already was. She risked the thick, early morning air. An ambulance whipped past her as Alison kept close to the sidewalk. The city was constantly busy — on at all times — yet she had caught it at a quieter hour where very little rushed around. It guaranteed few witnesses of her memorable face. Still, it hadn't stopped her from whirled her head around every couple of seconds to check.

There, Alison spied the hoodie. Her heart dropped, as did he stomach. All courage was lost when she saw that black hooded figure behind her, staring directly at it. It made no sense. Ezra was A, and he was in surgery. A was out of the game. A shouldn't be following her.

But A was.

So where was Red Coat?

Alison hastened her walking. She fled over the street as fast as she could, head dipped to avoid all the cameras attached to the shop windows. With a location firmly in mind, Alison cut down a dark side-street, darker than the main road; once more, she checked over her should as she re-emerged onto a new street.

A lurked behind her.

In her rush. Alison stepped off the curb. Her attention was on the hoodie until it suddenly wasn't. A yellow taxi blasted its horn. Brakes screeched to a stop and Alison yanked herself backwards, caught in the bright headlights.

"Hey!"

Her breath collected soon after. Alison put up her hand as a way of apologising to the drive and sped up, running across to the opposite pavement. She walked by a saxophone player, again peering at A to find there were still hot on her tail.

A stared right at her.

They held it for a second — a long one — then Alison shattered it. She ripped away and legged it down the street, rounding the tight corner until she ended up at an abandoned playground in the middle of four quiet junctions. She sought safety within it, ducking beside the slide and praying it covered her figure. Her eyes watched A's shadow cast upon the height of the building to the left; it circled around her, swallowing the brick with black.

A creaking pulled her from it. Alison's scared stare whipped toward the eerily moving swing. Nobody was by it, and yet, it still swung back and forth. Two clangs caused her to bolt up. Fear thumped throughout her body, terrifying her despite the plan they had.

This wasn't it, though.

This wasn't their plan.

The child's roundabout twirled slowly next. Alison took a large step backward, curving hopefully out of sight again from behind the slide, when her back collided with a chest.

"Want to play?" hissed a voice.

Alison jumped, horrified. She gasped at the closeness — at how she had touched another A. She couldn't help be wonder who this one was behind the mask.

"It's over."

Swallowing, Alison found the small amount of courage she had to say. "No," she said. "It's not."

From the right, Spencer appeared. "Did you really think we'd let Ali leave that hospital alone?"

The hoodie faced her, a mix of detectable surprise and confusion even behind the mask.

After, Emily came nearer. "We paged Alison so you'd know she was there."

Smugly, Hanna finished for the group, "Sun Tzu, bitch."

"Hey!" Alison yelled to grab A's attention. When he faced her, her reflexes were fast. Using the pepper spray, Alison aimed for his eyes as she pressed the buttom.

He winced. A wretched himself from them, almost toppling over. They watched as A struggled just as they had done on that rooftop when they attacked Ezra.

Then, the game changed around them.

"Are you sure that's A?"

The question came from behind the four. They turned to see yet another black hoodie — another A. Immediately, the prideful gloating died.

"Maybe I'm A," said the second person.

Suddenly, much to their startling shock, an influx of As poured into the playground. The girls were surrounded, briskly drowning in a failed plan. All the hoodies wore masks — some of Alison, some of the Queen of Hearts, some a foggy face they didn't recognise.

"Or maybe it's one of them," said a voice to taunt them.

"Maybe I'm A," said somebody else, this one clearly a woman.

A large group of ten or so people in A's uniform entrapped the four girls. They shut them in, coming at the friends from all directions. The As swarmed them. They pushed and shoved at the girls. They bullied them to huddle closer for support while all the hoodies laughed and jeered at them; many of them jumped out to physically hit their shoulders. The masked tormentors dove in, getting in each of the teens fear-stricken faces, so close that it elicited screams from the four. It only stopped when a singular siren sounded.

"NYPD — break it up!"

The collection of hoodies scampered off at the warning. They ran away at the image of a slow-paroling police car as did the girls, who crouched low with their heavy breath and terrified stares.

"Alright, folks, we need you to disperse now."

Emily peered out, through the bushes, just in time to see the last of the As as they fled the scene. The police drove on after that. "A was one step ahead of us," she said, upset and panting. "Ezra set us up."

"At least we know where the real A actually is," Alison offered breathlessly.

"Yeah, but we have no clue where Red Coat is," Hanna argued irritably. "She could still be in that hospital with Aria."

Sucking in a fearful, annoyed breath, Emily said, "Let's just get out of here."

•

Currently, four burner phones were in use. One connected four of the girls to Aria and another to Halle, who both had their own disposable cells. The majority of the party stood on a quiet street corner retelling their near A-experience.

"Well, I'm sorry you lost that red bitch, but she's not here either," Aria mentioned, as she slowly paced the waiting room. "You did get her out of here."

Alison asked, "Is Ezra out of surgery?"

"I heard them tell Ezra's mom that the bullet..." Aria swallowed the painful lump her throat, "travelled up and hit—" Her breath hitched, tearing swelling in her eyes again when she had only just stopped crying. She had stopped talking for a moment, absorbing the hurt as best as she couple before she was able to function once more. "She's getting on a plane, but she's in Sydney." Aria eyes the nurse's desk. "And there's nobody here for him but me. I feel kind of gross, like I shouldn't even be here after what happened."

Immediately, Halle offered, "We can fetch you." Her eyes lifted to Noel's, him at the wheel of the rental car, them both angled towards the centre console.

"No, I wanna stay," Aria said.

"Do you want us to come there?" Hanna wondered, as that was the only other option they had.

"No," said Aria without hesitation. Her breathing was loud, laboured almost. "No, so far I'm blending in, but I think with the six of us, it might be waving a red flag."

"Once he's out of surgery, it's still gonna take him a few hours to wake up," began Emily. "We need to find somewhere to go until we can talk to him — force him to admit to being A on tape."

Into the phone to Aria, Alison sternly told her, "Call us as soon as you hear anything."

"I will," Aria said, then paused before she added in more concerned, "Guys, promise me you'll be safe."

"Don't worry about us, Aria," assured Spencer. "We'll be okay. We promise. Bye."

The first call was dropped, and Hanna said through to Halle, "We need to find a way of getting to you."

"No, I can get her to you guys," Noel responded. "You guys need to get off the streets, now."

Emily put, "If Red Coat couldn't get to you at the hospital, they'll try again." She said to Alison, "You're still the available target tonight."

"Yeah, Em's right." Hanna agreed. "I mean, we can't just stand out here in the street like sitting—" her gaze snapped to Spencer, "... ducks."

All of them were cold and down-trodden. Alison surveyed it and declared, "I know a place we can go." She raised her voice towards the second phone. "Get Halle to West 44."

"Will do," confirmed Noel, and quickly kicked up the car.

"Come on," directed Alison.

Soon enough, the safe place they entered was pitch black. Every slight noise — a door opening, their boots on the floor, the wind that travelled in with them — echoed. After the exiting the quick subway ride, Alison had taken them deeper into the city, through the many back alleyways, until they ended up down the grimmest one. She took them to the side door, walking in with ease; and while Emily, Hanna and Spencer seemed too apprehensive, Alison strolled in like she owned the place.

In the dark, she found the switch board. Alison had memorised every inch of the place. Then, as she pushed a lever up, there was light. A soft, rosy purple haze fell gracefully across them in gradual levels until, at last, they could see. Their surroundings were clear. They stood on a stage, set up with an assortment of chairs and one sofa. They — apart from Alison — were all a little breathless, stunned as they looked out at a towering, rippling theatre of gold and lust red seats.

"Well, if you wanted to impress someone with a 'wow' moment," commented Hanna, admiring the view and how high the seats stacked up, scaling the dome-like shape of the grand theatre. "This would definitely be how you'd do it."

Alison understood with an airy sigh as she, too, gazed out at the sheer beauty of the magnificent room. "He didn't bring me here to impress me," she said outwards, as if she was performing to a full-house rather than chatting to friends. "This was kind of his special place," she finished, and ended it by eventually looking back at the three.

She was purposefully in a full-length dress and had styled her luscious, golden hair out of her face in pinned-back curls. She had put huge effort into her appearance today, so, naturally, Alison's mood dampened when Ezra's shirt was untucked and not ironed. Yet, it was all forgotten the moment she walked down the ruby aisle of the theatre.

"So, you know somebody who works here?" Alison gathered out of curiosity, especially since they were the only two there.

"Uh, yeah—" Ezra ducked his head, "a friend of the family," he said.

"Well, when you said you were going to take me to the theatre, I thought you meant to see a play," she lightly mentioned to him, just as she stepped out ahead of him.

Ezra asked her, "Are you disappointed?"

Her mouth curved up, relishing. Alison grasped the length of her dress, lifted it up and then ascended the few steps onto the stage. Once up there, Alison twirled around dazzlingly. Her curls were swept up, cascading down her back to over her right shoulder while she raised her head up to absorb the amazing view.

"Wow," she breathed out wistfully. "I get it."

From below, he asked, "Get what?"

Alison, speechless, couldn't put how fuzzy her chest felt looking out at the theatre to words. "It's hard to explain," she managed to say. She was lighter on that stage, entirely visible and radiant even without an audience. Joy tingled at her fingertips, swearing there was magic in her touch.

It seems to enchant Ezra as well. Rather she did, and Ezra was smiling when he encouraged the dream dancing in her blue eyes. "Try me," he said.

Her head was tilted up to the heavens. Every move she made was elegant and mature, even the little spin she did. Eyes shut, she smiled. It was a performance, sparkling in miraculous wonder. "God," she blissfully sighed, "imagine being up here, all those people out there who love you."

"I think that's called adoration, not love," Ezra returned.

Not letting it bring her down, Alison fantasised, "I could be an actress."

"Could be?" It amused Ezra greatly. "Well—" he started up the steps himself, "I hate to break it to you, but you already are." Sitting on the edge, he explained, "The way you tell you stories with such conviction. I think you're convinced yourself that half of them are true."

She joined him as he dug through his backpack. "Well, if you can't convince yourself," she posed, lashes fluttering at him as she intensely stared, "why should anyone else believe you?"

Sincerely, Ezra held her gaze and said, "You really are my Holly Golightly."

Alison's smile grew embarrassed, girlish as she stifled a giggle. "Who?"

The genuine surprise caught him off-guard, causing him to chuckle. In turn, Alison also did. They shared in sweet laughter, basking in each other's pleasant company.

A door creaking broke it. Alison took instant notice. Her laughter died, her eyes glancing around. "Are you sure we're allowed to be here?"

Before he could answer, a squeaking came from down the aisle, outside of the room. The caretaker and his cart stopped by the wide open doors. "Who's there?" Coming to investigate, the caretaker quickly readjusted to the error of his ways. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Fitzgerald," he said directly to Ezra. "My apologies. I was just locking up on my way out."

"No, don't worry about it, Bill," said Ezra kindly. "Have a good night."

"Okay, goodnight."

The polite smile on Alison's young face dropped a little as she watched the caretaker move along. She turned her head to Ezra, pleasantly befuddled, especially with how Ezra was desperately trying to be indifferent to it. He tried to busy himself by unwrapping the food he had brought along with him for them to share.

"Mr Fitzgerald?" Her tone was teasing but the smile she gave him was practically giddy. That was the name of the theatre. Ezra was a Fitzgerald and Alison's heart and mind soared at the very ravenous thought of the life that meant he secretly led.

It was the one she wanted, too.

After Alison finished telling them the story, she faced out and fondly said, "That's when I realised Ezra was a rich boy pretending to be a poor boy." She met her friends' faces, dropped her gaze and mentioned, "I actually liked him more for that. Not because he didn't want the money, but because he—" she interrupted herself with a light laugh, "totally had me fooled."

The girls listened quietly. They were at odds — wanting to hear so much more about Alison's summer and her time away from them, and yet, feeling incredibly uncomfortable at all the talk of Ezra Fitz. He was A. He had tortured them, bullied them, stalked them. Why would they want to hear about why Alison fell for him? He didn't see them as people — just characters he could write — so why should they gift that same kindness to him?

Alison admitted, "I actually thought that was an asset back then."

On the furthest armchair, Spencer hugged her stomach. It ached terribly; was in agonising knots from the emptiness inside of it. While she grimaced, Hanna and Emily inspected their whereabouts. The former preferred to look and touch. Hanna fiddled with everything she came across, including a prop shotgun.

"Wow," she admired. "This is a real gun."

"Hanna!" Emily rushed to her, alarmed. She scolded the dark blonde, snatching the long weapon from her like Hanna was in fact a small, misbehaving child.

"So," Hanna mused to Alison, as Emily place down the gun, "you think we'll be okay here until morning?"

With a nod, Alison answered, "I've stayed over a few times." She glanced over the empty seats. "They don't open the place until noon, we have few hours."

A door opened, the same door they small group had previously entered through. While Emily, Hanna and Spencer bolted up in a panic, Alison never once appeared more relaxed. Soon, from out of the shadows, Halle and Noel emerged. Relieved breaths left both conjoining parties.

"Oh, my god!"

"Halle!" Emily beamed. The couple ran to each other, their bodies colliding with an audible thud. Their arms tangled around one another and they held on tight. Pulling back first, Emily asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Halle said in relief. "How 'bout you guys?" she asked, glancing around as her hand reached out to squeeze at Spencer's shoulder.

"We're alright," Hanna replied with a huff. "Apart from Emily not letting me touch anything."

"You picked up the shotgun," shot Emily.

Mumbling, Hanna rolled her eyes and said, "You were still bossy."

Halle felt all the muscles in her body loosen; she was grateful to be amongst them again. A smile graced her face as she rested her head on Emily's shoulder. "Wrong person to tsk to," Halle teased, "I like her bossy."

Discomfort rose within Noel, having stood behind the connecting group. His gaze had been locked onto Halle throughout tonight, but now, seeing her with Emily, he tore his eyes away from her frame. He cleared his throat, catching the sight of Alison as she, too, avoided looking at Emily and Halle.

"Everything sorted?"

"Yeah, she's a good liar," Noel coldly complimented Halle. It didn't feel like one, and Halle felt it also. He asked Alison, "Are you ready to leave?"

"Uh..." Her blue eyes weren't fixed. She was torn between all the intense, pushing stares from every side of the stage. "I wanna wait it out," she said, uneasy. "See if Ezra pulls through or not, and there's still Red Coat."

Shocked, Noel firmly checked, "Are you sure you wanna take that risk? If we don't go soon..."

After a few glances at her friends, Alison nodded at his incomplete suggestion. "Yeah," she added, "but I need you to do me a favour."

"Anything," Noel surprisingly said without hesitation, and the two reconvened away from the four girls to talk in hushed tones. It was unlike the conversation earlier, in the cafe, when he tried to get her to leave; this one, Alison nor Noel wanted her.

Halle accepted it, strangely. Tonight — or the very early morning — had worn her dry of wanting to know more secrets. Her thirst for it vanished it. It made her ill now. Her body and mind were poisoned with them, even after the truth was revealed. She still couldn't get over what she did That Night — what she hadn't — what Aria had done and kept her mouth shut at. Aria's tearful apologies went far, but they had drained her. Spite now grew out of them, and Halle unleashed them at their only common enemy that she could lash out at.

"So," Halle let out deep breath at the theatre, "Fitz never told her the truth about anything, then." When her friends looked at her, she elaborated, "Aria." She said, "He never once told her the truth. He lied to her the whole time. About everything—" she scoffed and rolled her eyes, "What a scumbag."

Emily picked up on her girlfriend's low mood. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, you heard a lot tonight," Spencer mentioned.

"So did you," Hanna chided. "Aria allowed you to believe you killed Alison, too."

"Because she was scared," Halle couldn't help but defend. It shocked her to do it, but she was. Defending Aria meant defending herself. Halle had to believe she was a good person to survive the next battle of lies — or, hopefully, truths.

From behind them, they heard a door shut. Then, came the sound of boots. Only Alison returned to them. It confused the girls.

"Is Noel gone now?" asked Emily immediately.

"He's getting things ready," Alison told her.

Before Halle could ask what it meant, a deep growl grumbled loudly from one of the armchairs. While the three who knew the sound well — recognised it — didn't acknowledge it much, Alison found it slightly amusing. Her brows tightened as she asked, "What was that?"

The knowing three chorused, all at the same time, "Spencer's stomach."

Exhausted, Spencer managed to look over at them from her feeble state. "Sorry, I haven't had anything to eat since a petit four at that bridal show," she said, sulking from her hunger.

It made Alison chuckle light-heartedly. "Come on," she said, "let's raid the concession stand."

"There's no cameras?" Halle asked, as she followed the group who started down the ruby, centre aisle.

"It's an old building," Alison explained. "They have cameras in the front lobby—" she pointed to the very far golden doors, "and outside the front."

"That's weird," Hanna mentioned.

"Not really," Alison told her. "It's a bogus theatre, really. More of a property asset than completely functional. They put on a show for two weeks, once a season. Barely a real once."

"Just as long as there's food," Emily said, "that's all that matters right now."

Eagerly dashing ahead, Spencer hopefully fixed to the white counter-front in the spacious parlour. "You think that it's still gonna be stocked?"

"Spence—" Emily gave her a serious look, "we need to get you some food."

Halle inserted, "Before you get grouchy."

"I'm literally at the point where I cannot think," complained Spencer.

"Well, we can't have that," Halle said wittily, "it's your brain we need." She shot Spencer a charming smile; her arm soon swung around Spencer's waist, hugging Spencer close to her. They shared in smiles, with Spencer's own touch around Halle now too as they rounded the concession stand together.

Quickly, Spencer broke the doors open and started to pile out numerous packets for the group. She grinned excitedly, practically beaming at the sight of gummies, just as they crowded around.

"Oooh!" Emily snatched up the cherry-flavoured ones and smiled when the held them out to Halle. "Yours."

"Oh, my god," Halle thanked her with a large smile. "Now I just need pretzels."

"No pretzel," said Hanna. "Just nuts."

Nosing in, like she was an outcast, Alison tried to make friendly conversation after seeing how impossible tight-knit they girls were without her. "Do you still dip them in hummus?" she asked Halle. "I remember your mom used to make her own, and she did this amazing red pepper one."

Just a tad, Halle's smile dipped. "Yeah," she said quietly. "She does."

"Your mom's cooking was always my favourite," Alison pried herself in, despite how the discomfort rose on Halle's features. "She did a massive pot of oxtail and butternut stew every Easter."

"God!" Spencer's stomach gave another loud grumble. "Don't," she pleaded. "I'm too hungry to talk about that stew right now."

Laughing, Hanna said, "Well, I guess for now Nutty Chews can count as a protein and gummy bears as a fruit."

They joined her in sweet laughter, and Spencer laughed loudest and said,, "I don't care, I was so hungry I was about to eat the foam out of those seat cushions."

Again the four laughed, and then Hanna mentioned to her, "I saw that episode."

"Ditto," Halle claimed, as she got a dither up her spine at the memory.

"We watched it together," Emily said, gesturing to Halle with a large smile on her lips. "That lady went through three couches in a year."

Halle instantly gagged. "God, I couldn't finish our ice-cream after seeing that," she stated in disgust.

"I did," chimed in Emily. "I ate hers, too."

Feeling left out, Alison attempted to mask it with an awkward smile as she questioned them, "What show is this?"

Excitedly, Spencer practically lit up. "Freaky Foodies."

Emily wondered, "Have you seen it?"

"Spencer's obsessed," Hanna quipped.

"What, and you're not?" pushed back Spencer, smiling. "We watched that entire marathon together." She recalled on it happily; some of her fondest memories were just getting to be friends and hang out normally. Alison didn't have that. "Oh, my god, remember that guys who ate the dryer sheets?"

"Ew, that was so gross," Hanna said, pulling a sour face."

"They're all gross," mused Halle, tightly wound with her revolt. "I don't know how you watch it."

"I literally have to strap her down and force her to watch it with me," Emily explained, playfully rolling her eyes at her girlfriend's antics.

Flirtatiously, Halle put with a smirk, "It's a good time after that."

While Spencer boke into a heart laugh, Hanna smirked also and said, "Subtle."

"—I need to find a better place to make a call," Alison said. She interrupted their light-hearted moment, unable to be around it much longer than she already had. Any sign of a curve to her mouth was gone. All amusement disappeared, and it ruined it for the four others as well.

With a mouthful of gummies, Spencer dropped the humour from her voice. As she chewed, she asked, "Who do you need to talk to?"

Alison coldly expanded, "I have a few friends that are gonna be worried now that the police know I'm alive." She noted the silence that followed — the judgement on each of their faces at what she had told them. Much firmer, Alison said, "They're risked a lot to help me, I just need to let them know that I'm okay. I'll be right back."

Then, Alison walked off. She left them at the littered concession stand to head up the far, grand staircase that was flush to the ivory wall. They hadn't said anything — or responded to what Alison claimed to them. They were all thinking the same thought, how Alison acted like the girls hadn't risked anything at all. They wondered if they'd be getting a phone-call if one of her other confidants were the ones at the Fitzgerald theatre instead of those four.

It annoyed them, but it only spurred Hanna on to move. She rounded Spencer and Halle, them still huddled close to each other, and Hanna monitored Alison from a distance. Watching the brighter blonde reach the top step, Hanna then ventured after her. Mindlessly the rest — the three — took a few steps to join her. They saw as Alison wandered along the open balcony and walked off while on the phone.

Alison greeted the recipient, "Hey, it's me."

Hanna slowly crept up the stairs, the other warily watching her close in on Alison. At the corner, on adjacent side, Alison spoke secretively on the phone as Hanna lingered behind her, a few metres away. Spencer and Emily exchanged a look, as Halle keenly made a couple more steps towards the stairs, her eyes fixed on the wall off the main area rather than where she had seen her friends go. Hanna came forward, looking for them only to find two. She shook her head and held up a hand as she gestured out hopelessly.

Disappointed, Emily glanced away to find Halle had turned left, down a corridor off the huge parlour. "Halle?"

Out of curiosity, her friends joined her. Halle stood frozen solid. Her eyes were locked onto the gold framed photographs, dating all the way back to when the Fitzgerald theatre was opened. Yet, there was one very specific photo that caught her eye and she carefully inspected it with tears in them.

"What is is?" Spencer asked.

"Halle?" asked Emily again, more concerned now.

"It's—" Halle felt her voice waver. Her gaze was foggy with fresh tears, just able to make out Hanna as she was the last to join. "It's my nana," she said, eyes falling back to one of the last images on the wall.

The girls looked to it in shock, instantly finding the dark woman that looked so much like Halle and practically was a twin to Halle's mother. Gloria was nestled among a group of older people — people Halle recognised from the care home nearby — but in the middle, with his arm around Gloria, Halle felt sick to know another face too well.

"She's with Fitz."

•

Two uniformed officers prowled the space outside of the doors to 'Surgery'. It gifted Aria some comfort in her most uncomfortable hour. By now the make-up on her face had worn off — worn thin after the lengthy hours and all the floods of tears. In her shattered state, she hoped her friends were safe and hidden from wherever Red Coat was. She reeled in what happened, constantly replaying the harsh memory of the gun going off behind her blank, tired stare.

A familiar body lowered himself in the seat next to her, and eventually broke Aria from her trance. Her head rotated around then, abruptly, snapped the last inch when she was met with Noel Kahn.

"Noel?"

"Alison sent me," he claimed, "to make sure you're okay. All the others are safe," Noel informed her.

Uneasiness climbed up into her mouth, gripping at her neck on its way. "Look, I get that you're her loyal companion, but I don't need a watchdog," she bit out fiercely.

"I don't like being your babysitter either, but I made a promise," Noel cautioned her. "So, for now, I'm staying."

"Fine," exhaled Aria, hands covered her face as she covered her sleepy nature that was gradually eating at her. "You can stay."

"Glad we can agree," Noel said, settling back in his chair. "Trust me, it makes this a lot easier."

"Does it?" Aria asked him, peeved. "I wouldn't know, I've never had an ex-boyfriend be shot before."

Sympathising, Noel offered, "I know this can't be easy on you." He realised out loud for her, "Mr Fitz meant a lot to you — more than the others."

"Apparently not," Aria said, feeling her drooping eyes prick with new tears. "I read his book, Noel," she told him emotionally. "I read what Alison meant to him — how they met, how they fell in love." Her jerk-reaction was to gag, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth. "How he got her pregnant and how scared she was that he'd kill—" she got choked up. "I didn't even know him. I was an Ali-replacement."

"He never got her pregnant," Noel defended. "It was a scare."

"He still slept with her," Aria repulsed. "He slept with me. God," she groaned and a tear spilled down her right check. She wiped it away fast. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this," she said. "We're not even friends."

"But we did date," Noel recalled. "And I kept your secret."

"You used it against Ezra," argued Aria, eyes accusing him.

Noel replied, "I never said I was innocent, Aria. But I'm here if you do want somebody to talk to," he kindly mentioned.

"Well, I don't," she sharply said.

Probing deeper, Noel asked, "Well, can I get you something? Coffee or something from the vending machine?"

"No, thanks," responded Aria, as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes closed again, sleep overtaking them. She swayed herself awake, jolting up in the plastic chair.

"You should sleep," Noel suggested to her gently. "It might be a while and—"

"What are you doing here, Noel?" snapped Aria. "And it's not just because Ali sent you to watch me."

"She's worried about you," Noel confessed. "But..." he added after a sigh, "she wants me to make sure Red Coat doesn't show. The only person connecting her to Ezra is on an operating table. While we want him alive, his Red Coat doesn't," he explained simply. "Ezra's our only lead to shut this whole thing down."

The fright was all-consuming. "You think Red Coat would do that?" She gulped anxiously. "That they'd kill Ezra?"

Noel told her, "If it meant protecting her identity, I don't think there's anything Red Coat wouldn't do."

•

Alison had fallen asleep first. The girls there — the four of them — were grateful for it. It gave them chance to talk, lowly, in whispered voice. Their quiet chat haunted the stage, ghostly as it rolled over the stale platform, all to subside beyond the front row. The Fitzgerald theatre was cavernous; their speech travelled wide and vibrated through the large space. Halle wondered how many whispering conversations had been had here; if theirs were as poignant as the one she and her friends were having.

"Do you know why she'd come here?" Hanna asked Halle softly.

The anguish consumed Halle as she stewed on the end of the closest chair to the right sofa. Her throat felt dry as she spoke. "My mom said that nana's care home found a theatre that would do shows just for them," Halle recalled. She had told Toby something similar after her performance in 'Chicago'. "I never knew it was this one, though."

"You weren't to know," Emily comforted her. "None of us knew he was connected to New York."

"His arm is around my nana, Em," Halle countered, very clipped. "He probably did it to get more information for his book. He used her," she snapped. "He used an old lady with Alzheimer's to get close to me."

"But you didn't know," Spencer said.

"That's doesn't matter!" argued Halle furiously. It was an enormous violation, spurning her intimately. "He took advantage of my ill grandmother. Don't tell me how to feel 'bout this. You have no—" she strongly stressed, "idea what that feels like."

"Do you think there's any way Ali knew?" Emily curiously asked. "I mean, she's stayed here before and that photo was on the wall."

With her eyebrows raised, Spencer suggested, "Is it just me or does it already feel like she's shutting us out again?"

"Shh," Hanna warned in sharper tone.

Spencer asked, "What?"

Hanna motioned to the blonde girl slumped in the chair furthest from them, eyes closed with her feet draped over the arm. "She can hear you," Hanna said of Alison.

"She's sleeping."

Incredulous, Hanna replied, "She's Ali." Getting up, from her spot on the floor, she walked across the stage to where Alison soundly slept with her winter coat pulled up to her perfect chin for warmth. Hanna chaotically waved a hand in front of Alison's face, which stayed content. When Hanna detected no movement, she looked over to the others and informed, "She's sleeping."

Sarcastically, Spencer whispered her remark of, "Thanks, Han."

Having sat up previously — to closely examine if Alison was in fact sleeping also — Emily continued to watch Alison was she slept even after Hanna re-joined them. "It makes sense that Ali has people helping her," Emily commented to them, a hidden envy to her tone. "You know, if it were us, we'd want her to call. We'd want to know that she was okay."

"That's the thing, Em," Spencer said, truly past the point of miffed. "It is us."

Equally annoyed, Halle wholeheartedly agreed, "Yeah, Alison chose not to tell us. She came back, made us all feel insane every time we thought we saw her — come to find out, boom — she was alive the whole damn time."

Spencer added to the frustration, "We're the ones who are risking everything to help her. It's not some random do-gooder—" she wryly mocked, "that she's met along the way."

With her gentle stare fixed to Alison's sleeping form, Emily voice tiredly, "We just have to wait it out a few more hours. Once we know what's happening with Ezra, this will be finally over."

A dark thought crossed Halle's mind, will it?

Lowly, Hanna released a tiny ounce of hope as her head lifted to the sky, "From your lips to God's ears."

Furrowing her brows, Spencer sharpened in dubiously on Hanna. She asked, "When did you become religious?"

"My mom's dating a preacher, remember?" quipped Hanna with an easiness that was enough to cause them all the relax.

Leant back, a fantasy filling her brain, Emily wishfully wondered out loud, "Can you imagine what life would be like without A?"

Spencer humorously acknowledge it, "When was the last time you guys had a hobby?

"That wasn't murder?" chuckled Halle.

"Never," Hanna scoffed. Aloud, she considered for the very first time, "I wouldn't mind taking up a sport, though."

At the minor confession, Emily shared an amused look with Spencer as she asked, "Which one?"

"Mm, I don't know," Hanna hummed, having given no thought to it previously. She added with a smile, "I've always like Spencer's field hockey skirt."

They laughed together. The mood was lifted if not for a brief moment and encouraged a lightness on their chests.

"You can totally have it," Spencer gave, stilling chuckling with Hanna.

It caused Emily to grow curious. She wanted to share further — to hear much more from her friends' newfound openness. "What about you, Spence?" she asked.

The wide grin on Spencer's face faltered. Slowly, it evaporated until sadness leaked in to replace the happiness. "Erm... I wouldn't want to go back to the person that I was before," she admitted. "All I cared about was winning." She took a small pause, the exhaustion causing her to become tearful. "And now I just really want to be happy."

"Bet."

It fumbled out of Halle before she had even registered what she did. Her friends were now looking at her, waiting, expecting her to expand on something Halle had barely put any thought into longer than a few fleeting seconds. But, somehow, Halle did. Her heart knew what she wanted so immediately, so passionately, that is simply fell from her.

"It's just, I..." Halle pulled her bottom lip into her mouth for a second to search for the right words to explain all she felt. "I spent a lot of time fighting," she spoke. "I've gone from one fight to another for years. Fighting for things—" Her and Emily, "fighting against them—" her and Jason, "sometimes fighting just for the sake of it—" Eric. Noel. Alison. Everything that muddled together. "You know, I actually convinced myself I like it, but I don't," Halle said. "I don't wanna fight anymore..." she gave a sad half-shrug as she concluded sweetly, "I just want peace."

As Emily reached out to collect Halle's hand in her own, smiling proudly, Hanna softened entirely. She smiled at the incomplete group and wished Aria was among them. Still, Hanna said to Halle, "That sounds really nice."

"Yeah," Spencer agreed. "I like that one to."

So, Halle committed it to thought. To her heart. That was what she wanted. Peace.

•

Myles Brewster distanced himself from the rest of the small gathering. In the back of town hall's entertainment room, Mona Vanderwaal assembled a group of very hurt and scorned individuals. Lucas Gottesman was among them, having got the keys to the room through all the days he had spent gaming on the old machines he was propped up against. Paige McCullers was also there.

"Some of you may know each other, some of you may not," Mona started, taking the position of General to an army she was hoping to create. "But I picked you because we all have one thing in common, and that's Alison DiLaurentis." She spoke out at the pathetic-looking, withdraw smattering of people. "When Alison was here, I wasn't Mona. I was Loser Mona." She directed at one of her sergeants. "Who were you, Lucas?"

People turned to look at him and he got flustered. Embarrassment flushed at his cheeks, his jaw tensing uncomfortably. Still, he answered. "Hermie."

"Hmm," hummed Mona. "Myles? She didn't have a nickname for you, did she?"

Shame washed over him. "Not one I repeat," he told the room sadly.

She nodded at that, smiling softly at him for being brave enough to reach out to her over this — for giving her the encouragement to draw up a plan. "How about you... Paige?" Mona posed to the slender girl, who glowered angrily at being called out. "I can say it if you don't want to," Mona said. "She called you Pigskin."

"I was Pus-face," called out a boy in the back.

"I was Newt," said another.

A girl claimed, "I got tomato soup on my jeans once and she told the whole class I had leaked through my pad." Sadly, she said, "Alison called me Leaky after that."

"I was Bug Eyes," said a boy with thick-rimmed glasses.

"Alison called me a white rino once," said a glum, plumper girl in the left side, "it stuck."

Aggravated, Paige argued for them, "But you weren't those people." She had her hand firmly in the pockets of her jacket to shield he clenched fists from prying eyes. "That's just what she called you," she said. "Not who you are. Sticks and stones, Mona." She locked eyes with the leader. "I'm not afraid of her anymore."

"Well, maybe you should be," Mona countered. "She's not even back yet and she found a way to make sure Emily never forgives you again. You were the one who gave that address to the cops," Mona slyly pointed out, causing Paige to crack. "Maybe you're not as unafraid of Alison as you'd like to think if you'd willing endanger her to get back at Emily for breaking up with you." She continued, "Halle called you Pigskin, too, remember? Last year," she stated, and Myles lifted his head. "How does it feel that she's dating Emily when she called you that?"

Her jaw ticked, anger pulsing behind Paige's eyes as she asked, "Exactly what is it you want us to do?"

"I want us to stick together," demanded Mona fiercely of the group. "There's strength in numbers. The bigger we are, the harder she falls."

After hearing what Mona had to say, Paige declared uncomfortably, "I don't think I want to be a part of this."

When Paige rose from the stool, Mona jeered to her back, "I can't protect you if you're not with us."

Paige stopped for a moment. She hesitated briefly, contemplating Mona's words, until she decided that she wanted to leave. Paige dug her hand out of her pocket and opened the door to walk out when she was faced with a stone-like Melissa Hastings. It stumped Paige, mouth agar as she took in the determined glaze to Spencer's older sister's eyes.

Melissa seemed to glower at Paige, causing the teenager to back up slightly. Once she was out of Melissa's way, Melissa swept into the room like she and Mona were on even levels of superiority. Melissa Hastings was a General, too.

"We don't have much time," announced Melissa, shoulders recline back perfectly. "Alison's coming home by the morning."

With that said, Paige shut the door and stayed for the rest of the meeting.

•

Her heels carefully clipped on the floor. The three and half inches made her black tights-covered legs seem longer, all the way up to the hem of her red coat. It was cinched in at her waist. The brown wig she wore was a stark change from her usual appearance, but it was the only way she could get to New York.

To get to Alison.

Sneakily, she crept further onto the stage. Her eyes scanned it, noting where each girls slept without ever knowing she was there. They were all so calm, even after what had happened. She was grateful that they slept deep as well; because when she put her gloved hand to Alison's mouth, it only muffled the shocked gasp as Alison sprung awake.

Soon, Alison had secretly been coaxed to a dressing room down the hallway. She sat on the tiger-print stool, warily flipping her gaze between a dark-haired CeCe Drake and the open door. "How did you find me?"

Despite the wig, CeCe positioned herself directly in front of her younger friend and said, "Well, we don't just look alike. We think alike, too."

"You took a big risk coming here," cautioned Alison seriously. "When I saw you on the street corner, after the ambulance drove off, the girls thought you were Red Coat."

"It's the only disguise I had in my car," CeCe revealed. "I had to leave Rosewood, I didn't have a choice other than to come find you." She sucked in a shaky breath and said, "Alison, you asked for my help in Ravenswood. Now I need yours."

With slight hesitation, Alison nodded.

She called Noel to meet her at a twenty-four hours diner halfway between the hospital and the theatre. He did so quicker than she expected, having left Aria fast asleep waiting to hear if Ezra would wake after the invasive surgery, and presented Alison with the same envelope from before.

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Alison asked her lowly, as not to be heard by the few people who lingered in the diner at almost six in the morning. The sun was just starting to come up, peeking out through the fading blue.

"It has to," CeCe confirmed. "I don't have another choice."

Noel slid the envelope with the fake passport and airline ticket across the table, to the fake brunette in the red coat. He instructed, "We should be okay if we do this today." He glanced to Alison. "The cops are still looking in Philadelphia."

She was grateful to hear that, but Alison tried not to show it. For now, she — and her friends — were still trapped in New York with another police district closing in due to a shooting.

CeCe fiddled with the contents of the envelope, counting the cash that was inside of it. When she peeked up at Alison, she found apprehension in her friend's features. "You having second thoughts?"

"No," said Alison, much quieter than before. It surprised CeCe to hear the honesty oozing through Alison's tone, but a sadness soon trickled in when when Alison lowered her gaze. "I just realised this might be the last time I see you."

"Oh," CeCe dismissed her lightly, "don't be so dramatic, Ali." She shuffled everything back inside of the envelope then looked to Alison with a softness reserved only for her. "We always find a way back to each other."

Humoured, Noel asked disrespectfully, "Is this the part where you guys kiss?" He smirked as the pair of them mirrored each other to glare, and he boasted gleefully, "Had to ask."

Alison didn't dignify it with a reply. She moved in her chair and said to CeCe, "You better get going."

They all stood from the small table. Noel cleared his throat, tucked his hand in his denim jacket and diverted his eyes away to give them some privacy. CeCe raised her arms and brought Alison in for a sisterly hug. They both clutched to each other, eyes shut as they took in quite possibly their last hug for a really long time, yet CeCe was also the first to pull away.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

Still holding on, Alison gave a nod and said truthfully, "You'd do the same for me."

CeCe would. So, it was what Alison clung to as she watched CeCe leave without ever glancing back. Alison's eyes watered to watch her friend leave, but she coughed and blinked them away when Noel came to stand beside her.

"Uh—" Alison put on a straight face and asked, "How's Aria doing?"

"She's fine," Noel answered. "She was asleep when I left her." He paused, momentarily debating whether to ask the next question that tugged at him. When it got too much to bear, Noel decided to chance it. "How's Halle? Is she okay?"

Alison repeated his words back at him. "She's fine. She was asleep when I left her."

Noel sighed, then asked, "Is she safe? Are you still sure you're all okay to stay at the theatre?"

"We should be," Alison replied. A smile pulled at her mouth. "She'll forgive you, you know. Halle knows what you did for her. You lied to keep her safe, it's only the same as what she did to you."

"I knew you were alive for over a year, Ali," Noel returned. "Some things you can't forgive."

Sadly, Alison reassured him, "Trust me, Noel, if Halle can find it in her heart to forgive me, she'll have no issue forgiving you."

Noel pinned her with a solid stare. "That's my problem," he said. "Halle won't ever forgive you. She's over you, Alison, and..." he dropped her gaze, "she's not the only one."

•

Aria felt groggy. Those cheap, plastic chairs provided no comfort and only antagonized her bad back; they weren't designed for sleeping. Aria likened them to torture devices — meant to force you to stay awake and in pain all the while you dreaded the outcome looming beyond the surgery doors. Yet, somehow, Aria had unexpectantly managed to get some sleep, even if was quite possibly the worst sleep of her life.

The first thing she recognised was the shearling inside to her jacket against her skin. It was warm underneath, her front snuggled while the exposed slithers of her arms were cold and prickled with goosebumps. The hairs along them stood up at the chill. Moving to sit up from her slumped position, Aria remembered it all. Her body, suddenly, resembled a glacier of ice. She ran cold, frozen.

Her jacket dropped to her lap. She didn't recall using it as a makeshift blanket, but Noel Kahn had been with her. She realised he was missing now. His spot beside her was empty. She extended out her palm to touch the plastic to discover it, too, was cold.

Ezra.

Her mind dashed to Ezra.

Focusing her eyes head, fixated on the nurse's station, Aria's feet moved before she gave them permission. She carried herself over to the bay-window like is a basic instinct to her, as was the question that followed.

"Is Ezra Fitz out of surgery?"

The nurse looked up and informed, "He's in recovery."

A huge sigh of relief deflated from Aria's strained lungs. "Thank you," she said, turning, fully with the intention of snatching up her jacket to leave.

"I can take you to him now," said the nurse, and Aria stopped. "It'll be good for him to see family."

"Family?" asked Aria, puzzled by the assumption.

"Yeah, that boy you were with — your cousin," said the unsuspecting nurse, "he's already been in. He asked us to let you sleep."

It stunned Aria — at how Noel Kahn lied so frequently, so boldly, so easily. Yet, Aria did the same without speaking to the nurse. She simply shut her mouth and allowed the kind woman to lead her to room B1-23. The door was agar. Aria expected to find Noel in there, in a chair beside the bed, but he wasn't.

"My fri—my cousin," Aria corrected fast. "Where is he?"

"Oh, he stepped out for a call," the nurse told her. She looked to the patient. "He's still unconscious, but he's stable."

"What?" Aria was confused for a second. "Oh—" she blanked, swiftly coming to her senses to remember that Ezra was also in this room. Finally, Aria twisted her stare to him. Ezra. Ezra Fitz. Fitzgerald. Her brain cursed itself to remember. To see all the lies so plainly now he laid in a hospital bed, fighting for his life.

A constant, steady beeping alerted Aria to the two machines attached to Ezra. One monitored his heart-rate and levels while the other was connecting to the oxygen mask that covered his nose and mouth, assisting him to breath. Aria gathered without it, he would plummet. His face was pale, weak-looking. He was meek as he rested in the bed. Aria could scarcely believe his was the one behind every black hoodie, grinning like the villain he was with every taunting text A sent.

He sent.

He was A.

He is A.

It overwhelmed Aria greatly. The ugly knot returned to her gut as she stared down at him, where previously only love rushed to her when she adoringly set her gaze on Ezra. It dawned on her earlier that none of it was real — that every part of her first love was a crushing, humiliating lie — but it hurt even worse now she was alone with him.

Or mostly alone with him.

"He can hear you," chimed in the nurse. "It's good to talk to him, it'll bring him to consciousness easier if he hears a familiar voice." She flashed a quick, polite smile. "I'll leave you be."

The door shut shortly after. Aria was alone with Ezra. She hadn't been since she told him to leave Rosewood, before Halle drove her home to collect her father so they could go to the police station together. At the awful memory, Aria felt her bottom lips quiver then go. She let out a loud sob. Tears kissed her eyes, stinging from the rage that battered her broken heart. There wasn't any remnants of his betrayal; it was still ongoing. Ezra Fitz had corrupted every single sell of her body for his own pleasure. He had ruined her, and Aria fooled herself into believing the choice was hers.

Loving him had been a panic attack. Losing him would be a death. His death. However, Aria didn't want him dead. She wanted him punished. She wanted A punished. She wanted him gone from Rosewood, not gone forever.

"This isn't fair," cried Aria softly, miserably. She didn't know how he dared look so peaceful after all the heinous horrors he had committed against her — against her friends. "I want to not care. I want you to suffer, the way I have... suffered." She struggled with that word. She was tired of the pain she held inside of her; it was wrecking her. Aria snapped at him, "I shouldn't give two craps about what happens to you. Even if you die in this hospital, I shouldn't care. If you died on that rooftop, I shouldn't care. But I do. I do care, Ezra," she admitted, hand over her most bruised part of her body. "My hearts hurts from caring too much about you."

It ached worse as she continued. "You hurt me. You really, really hurt me, but that doesn't mean I wanted this. I don't want—" a choked sob cut her off. "You can't die, Ezra," she wept. "You can't..." Aria drifted off when she saw his eyes open a little. They fluttered with a lot of effort, weighed down by the multitude of drugs pounding through his system. Yet, he was listening to her. He was hearing Aria, and that fired her up more. "You can't die because you need to take responsibility for what you've done. You doing this — you being here — is denying me justice. I want justice!" Aria said strongly. "I deserve it, Ezra. You don't deserve to die. You deserve to rot — in a cage — for the rest of your life. You deserve to have your life be destroyed like you did mine... My friends..."

Her fingers itched, burning an icy cold. They swelled with it. "But you're gonna get away with this," she said, disgusted. "I mean, they gave you bail. That's how it works — nobody believes me now. I'm a Liar. That's how it always works, and if I..." she locked onto his white, sunken face, the minor breaths that he used all his strength to inhale. "If I don't get justice, I want it my way." Aria's slender fingers loitered over the breathing tube. She wormed them around it. "You saw me in that bar and you couldn't wait another day to just be my teacher." Her grip tightened. "You had to get close to me — to your character." She bent the tube in half while she squeezed. His eye widened, throat seizing when he discovered he couldn't breathe properly. "You used everything you knew about me against me. You made me feel seen for the first time since Alison and it was all a lie!"

She held on tighter.

And tighter.

And longer.

Her knuckles were drained of colour as Ezra started to frantically gasp for air. But Aria continued to deny it him.

"Ezra Fitz was a lie," Aria said through a clenched jaw. "You ever loving me was a lie. Everything was a lie! You lied—!"

The mask was fogged white. It clouded over, and Ezra went rigid. His panicked, fearful eyes blew wide. He began to writhe. His eyes rolled back, and the manic beeping sounded like an alarm. Realisation struck Aria, hard. What had she done? She dropped the tube and flinched back. The bent tube exhaled to its natural position.

Her terrified eyes darted up to the machine. His heart-rate rose rapidly, only continuing to incline. The beeping intensified, and Ezra wheezed in agony.

"Help!"

Aria whipped around. She ran to the door, flung it open, and screamed down the hallway,

"Help! Help! We need some help in here — hurry!"

Doctors flooded the room. They pushed her aside, dithering in fright. "We have a code." More staff sped in, and one of the nurses seized Aria by her shoulders and directed her out of the full room. "Code blue — 1-23. Code blue — 1-23."

•

Early morning was still swallowed by night. This part of the city was close to a ghost-town during those few hours before people started to wake. Jason DiLaurentis was almost entirely certain nobody who knew him would see him exit the shady, nearing on derelict building at that time with a handful of others just like him.

"Nice ride for here," croaked a voice.

"Uh, thanks," Jason replied shortly. He had parked a little further down from the building, but it was obvious the expensive car was his even without him walking towards it.

"It's your first time here," said the slender, withering man. He watched closely as Jason switched on his phone. "Why all the way out here?" he asked. "You worried your wife's gonna find out your relapsing?"

"I'm not married," answered Jason. "I was looking for somebody. I was told he comes to meetings here."

"Who?" pried the old man.

"A doctor," Jason said. He opened his mouth to ask this man a few questions, not having the trip out to Philadelphia was unsuccessful, but Jason was interrupted. His phone came alive with pings. They surprised Jason, over-lapping each other in competition.

"Looks like somebody's tryna' get hold of you," commented the thick, croaky voice.

Jason chuckled nervously. He laughed it off as the notifications continued to blow up his screen; it's never a good sign, especially when he saw his mother's name among most of them. "Yeah," said Jason. He shot the man a polite, pressed smile. "Night, Arnie."

Deciding his cell-phone was useless until it stopped buzzing, Jason climbed into his car. He tossed the device to the passenger seat, on top of the manila folder he had perched there. He reached across to cross off the AA meeting address of his list of places, many already blackened out, when his phone started to ring.

Nick Brewster Calling...

It confused him. Jason had yet to go through the numerous missed calls and messages that clogged up his inbox, but doubted previously that Halle's dad would be among them until he locked onto this.

"Hello?"

"Jason?!"

The immediate concern scared Jason. It pierced him all the way through. "Nick? is everything okay?"

"Jason, it's—Have—" Nick couldn't get his words out. His panic was too much to bear; it almost paralysed him. His hand was cramping up just to hold the phone. "Is Halle with you? Have you heard off her?"

"Halle?" he questioned, baffled at first. Then, the worry started to enter his bloodstream, pounding through every inch of him until all he could feel was anxiety where his ex was involved. "No, why? Has something happened? Is she okay?"

"We... We don't know," sighed Nick, exhausted through his dread. "The girls are missing, we can't get in touch with them. The police found their phones at some warehouse in Philly—"

"Philly? They're in the city?" Jason abruptly cut in. His face was hardening, determination taking over. "Where?"

"Eastside — but they're not there," Nick said briskly. "Their phones are, but they aren't."

A wave of sick concern crashed upon Jason. He was drenched in it, furiously panicked. "Do the police have any leads?"

"Jason," Nick breathed heavy, "it's A."

Jason went cold. His green eyes were mad, growing darker with a steel storm. "Right." Jason said, "I'm gonna go check on the scene in Philly and I'll drive around for them. We're gonna find them."

He ended the call soon after. His determination glazed over his common sense. Jason had heard the words — words that told him that Halle was unreachable, that her phone was with the Philadelphia police currently — but a part of him couldn't accept it. Jason had this need, this strong compulsion, to try. A part of his soul held out hope that miraculously she's answer. She'd answer him.

So, Jason rung her number. He hoped Halle would see his name and react the way he did when he saw hers. His mouth would go dry, his breath would hitch, his heart would skip a singular beat then steady, his muscles released, his soul relaxed to hear her voice.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up."

"—Hey, you got Halle—"

Jason ended it abruptly, having reached her voicemail. He tried again. He listened to the dial-tone, his heart pounding in a frenzy with every ring.

"Come on, Brewster," he urged. "Pick up. Pick up the damn down — Come on!"

"—Hey, you got Halle,
imma call you right back
but leave a message—"

"Come on!" he yelled. His temper burst, volatile. Jason, in his furious rage, flung the phone from him. It bounced off the passenger and landed on the seat next to him, a crack in the corner splintering down the screen.

With nothing else — helpless in what he could do — Jason did the only option he had left. Anxiety floored him as Jason kicked up the engine to his car. Tonight, his set plan was lost — forgotten. All his thoughts were of Halle. He needed to find her and bring her home. He had promised.

•

Alison hadn't been quiet when she opened and closed the side-door. She didn't think she needed to; the girls were all getting some much needed, well-deserved sleep when she left and she was only gone twenty minutes. Alison was certain each girl would be in the exact place she left them. Content with that thought, it startled Alison to hear a stern voice call her out.

"Where have you been?"

Sharply turning her head around, Alison was face-to-face with a stoic Emily. The raven-haired beauty was in chair that Alison had left open, eyes bearing up at Alison, dedicated to getting a truthful answer.

"Em," Alison started to plead in a whisper, "please don't wake up the others."

Irritation sat up within Emily, raging at how disregarded Alison made the girls feels. "We're all in this together, Ali," said Emily, firm in tone. "At least that's what we thought."

Sensing a way in, Alison slowly sank herself down to Emily's height. It stunned the girl opposite, but Alison made sure her blues stuck to Emily's face as she spoke to convince her while she visibly softened. "There are some things you don't need to know about, Em. Okay?" she checked, voice shaking a little. "It's better that way."

Emily hated that. She shook her head, pulled away and stated strongly, "That's not a good enough answer."

Alison was surprised at her failure to impress Emily; she had been so forthcoming before. Yet, many things had changed. Emily's confidence for one; loving Halle for another. There wasn't a disadvantage that Alison could grasp at and use. With Paige, even Maya, it was different. This was more solid, and Alison had to rethink how to crack through it.

A stirring came from beside them. Alison grew wary when she witnessed Spencer roll over from her right side to her left, to face the back of the couch. When Spencer settled again, Alison set her hand on Emily's and said, "Come on."

As she stood, Alison brought Emily up with her, fingers holding onto hers even as they passed a soundly sleeping Halle on other couch with Hanna. Emily's eyes lingered on Halle's figure, and yet, she followed Alison for a chance at one moment alone with her first love.

The pair ended up in a warmly-lit dressing room with thick velvet drapes and gold moulding to cover their secrets. Intricate dividers with mirror vanities surrounded them in lines; Emily hadn't realised by letting Alison lead her to this room, she had done the same. She had enforced a divide between her friends' once-united stance as she perched on the step with Alison, heart ready and open to hear the answers Alison would willing give her — and not them.

Alison told her, "Ezra was paying CeCe for information. That's why she was in Ravenswood."

Her head was tilted in question, as Emily clarified, "So she was never really Red Coat?"

"No," Alison said, firm in confidence. "And Red Coat never followed Ezra to New York, either." She explained, "She's not Ezra's Red Coat, I think she's disappeared. And in Ravenswood, I asked her to wear that hoping that she would distract A so I could turn off the saw." It was clear to see Emily realise the truth of Alison's words — of where exactly Alison led her to. "A put you in that box, Em, not CeCe." Alison added, "She helped me save your life."

Emily was silent for a moment, trying to absorb it all. It was a lot to take it in — to hear for the first time and not know what to say or what question to rightfully ask next. Yet, Emily focused on why they were in that dressing room alone. It stirred up some bewilderment within her because of how little CeCe Drake was involved with A — with Ezra. Earnestly, She asked, "Why does this have to be a secret? Why can't you tell the other girls?"

Alison's face twitched, not expecting that question. Still, she came at Emily fiercely. "The police think CeCe killed a cop, Em." She relaxed more, sympathising. "And part of why they the believe that is that she did that was for me."

"CeCe didn't kill Wilden?" Emily asked quietly.

Alison shook her head once.

"But the police think she did, because of Ezra?" Emily said, piecing it together.

"Look," Alison said, "if she gets busted boarding that plane, my face is on the passport. That makes me an accessory." She leant in closer. "And now you know about it, that makes you one too." Alison attempted to stress the severity of it. She set her hand on Emily's knee, pushing. Her voice cracked. "You guys have done so much for me. You do not need to go out on a limb for CeCe." Formally, she claimed as an absolute, "I will take the fall for it — alone — if it comes to it."

Emily's mind swirled. It spiralled around and around, all sinking down a plughole until there was only one thing left — too big to fit down it. All Emily was left with was Alison's touch on her knee. She was increasingly aware of it as it short-circuited her brain, so Emily looked down at it to assure herself it was real.

Noticing it too — the delicate shift — Alison stared down at it. Her palm was curved around the shape of Emily's knee, comfortably rested. She gulped at the sight. "How long have you..." Alison was sick to her stomach, "...have you and Halle been a thing?"

The immediate guilt ate at Emily. She couldn't find the ground beneath her; she was flying to high with Alison's hand on her body. This touch was enough to hurt everybody involved, but it was too good to have to push away. Emily knew it was wrong to cherish it, and Emily wished she was stronger somehow to resist. but her words were wavering. "A while," she said. "Since just after my birthday. She's been really good for me."

"You're good for her, too," Alison responded with a humorous smile. "God knows she needed direction, I bet you put her on that."

"No—" Emily shook her head, "Halle did that all herself. She turned her life around after..." She trailed off, looking up at Alison through thick lashes to regretfully add, "After you died."

It hurt Alison. What Noel said rang loud in her ears. Alison was hearing it for a second time and it punished her profusely. Nodding glumly, Alison understood why Halle had done that — why exactly it had happened for Halle after she disappeared. Alison was holding her back — on purpose, it seemed.

"Do you love her?"

It was quick, no hesitation involved, when Emily said, "Yes."

Alison's eyes were larger, deep pools Emily could drown in as she asked, "Like you loved me?"

Struck hard by it, Emily opened her mouth to speak but never did. A clambering of boots sound behind them. They were interrupted by the three girls they had previously left asleep. Halle was in the doorway first. Her eyes found Emily and Alison together, then dropped down to the touch. A slash was delivered to Halle's heart and she stumbled back. The familiar pangs in her chest of past-cheating were played with so carelessly by Emily and yanked on when Emily chose to jump apart from Alison as the sprang up to act innocent.

"Hey, erm..." Hanna chose to step around a withdrawn Hall to tell them, "Aria's on the phone, but we can't hear her."

It was obvious they had burst in on a private moment. Emily was far too awkward for it not to be. She avoided their eyes at all cost, looking down and rubbing her hands down the front of her jeans for a distraction. Alison was quiet, too. The three all saw it — saw what it was plainly — yet Emily still diverted her attention away in hopes they wouldn't.

Eventually, Alison spoke up. "Tell her to call the house line."

Again, looks were exchanged. From those who managed to get them. While Hanna busily typed at the cell, Spencer constantly switched between Emily and Alison, the former more sheepish and meek. She recognised the guilt as well, and her hand reached for Halle's back, who watched closely with tears in her eyes as her heart was held in Emily's grasp. Halle was waiting. Waiting for Emily to at least look at her. Waiting for the final clutch, and her heart would be squashed overnight.

The tension hadn't gone. It stayed with them, lingered while the girls awkwardly now stood down the narrow hallway. Halle put distance between her and Emily, choosing to stand with Spencer; with Hanna then between Spencer and Emily. Halle refused to even look at Emily. She kept all her focus on Alison as she talked into the landline backstage.

"Ezra made it through surgery, but I... I..." Aria couldn't quite say it. Tears were pouring down her face as she sat in the passenger seat to Noel Kahn's rental car. They were speeding down the road, hurtling towards the theatre after. "He..." Her eyes were full of fright as she searched noel for help.

"Ali," Noel's voice came in stern, his hand gripped the wheel tight, "you need to get out of there," he ordered at her. "We all need to get out of New York or—"

The line crackled then cut off. Not hearing anything other than dead silence, Alison put the phone back in its wall-fixed receiver. She chewed at her nails, waiting. The phone rang again. She turned and snatched it up, her back put to the anxious row of four girls.

"Hello, can you hear me?" Alison asked loudly.

Down the unsecure line, a voice she didn't know spoke out. "Hello?"

Alison went quiet. Her stare blew wide. Hands shook around the phone as panic steadily set in.

"Alison?"

She heard her name. Then, the low creak of a chair as the person on the other side stood up, no doubt in shock. Spooked that she had been found, Alison thrust the phone back in its holder with a crash. She welled up, lip quivering as she faced her friends.

"What is it?" Spencer asked apprehensively.

"They found me."

In collective panic, the group refused to pick up the phone. It vibrated as it rang out again. They just stared at the land-line in shock. It had rang twice now all the way through. They did nothing as it continued to annoy their ears.

Emily asked, "Did you recognise the voice?"

"No," Alison said, teary eyes on them now.

From the stress, Hanna rubbed at her tired eyes as it stopped ringing.

Throwing her hands up, Spencer decided, "Okay, we can't wait for Ezra to wake up or for Noel to show up, or if Red Coat's gonna kill you tonight." She was firm even as Alison and Emily exchanged a shady look. "We can still get you to the airport," Spencer said to Alison. "You can still used that passport and that ticket, that Noel gave you, right?"

Dryly bemused, Alison closed her eyes at the irony of the danger she had yet again found herself in. She informed them like some sick joke, "I don't have it anymore."

Her head craned out, eyes wide, and Hanna shrieked, "What?!"

"Please—" Halle stressed deeper, "for the love of god, tell me you're playing with us right now."

"I'm telling you the truth," Alison revealed.

Outraged, Halle yelled, "Well, that's a goddamn first!"

"I gave away my get-out-of-town-free card to someone who needed it more than I did," Alison told them, arms crossed in defence.

"Ali, who needs more help than you do right now?!" exclaimed Hanna furiously.

Alison denied them the answer. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to us!" argued Spencer powerfully. She and the others — minus Emily — were becoming restless with the secrets. "Look, Ali, either you trust or you don't."

"Either way, decide so we can decide for ourselves what we do together," Halle declared for them, excluding Alison from the group in a heartbeat.

Hanna was exasperated. "God, no more secrets, Ali. You were wrong before," she said, with no room to argue. "They didn't keep us together."

The most calm out of them, Emily, who already knew what the secret was, stayed steady as she took charge. "We can argue about this in the cab, okay?" she said. Hastily, she tried to unfix them from Alison and usher them along. "Let's grab our stuff and go."

Her tone forced them to unwilling let to of their joint-accusation. With several disgruntled shakes of head, the girls split towards the stage. Spencer turned her back on Alison first, to which the blonde followed. Hanna sighed and went as well. The two left were Emily and Halle, who, at long last, met each other's forceful stares.

Halle saw directly through Emily. "You gonna keep that secret from me, too?" she probed sourly. "Because Ali asked you to?" Like she expected, Halle was given silence and a caught-out look to Emily's eyes as a reply. "Yeah—" Halle sucked her teeth and snidely remark, "that's what I thought."

Pleadingly, Emily begged, "Can we do this later?"

"Sure," said Halle shortly. "Alison comes first. Like always."

Emily tried reaching for her. "Hal..."

However, Halle tore her hand away. She wouldn't give Emily the capability of touching her — of winding her pinkie finger around hers — like nothing was wrong. If Halle hadn't have walked in on Emily with Alison, what would've happened? That was the question that sliced at Halle miserably. Everything changed on her now Alison was back in the fold like it tended to do, and Halle had to suffer that immense loss of a sweet, pure love.

The pack sprinted to the stage. The rest were scrambling to grab their belongings, shoving on their jackets as fast as possible. "Come on, we have to hurry," encouraged Spencer when Halle and Emily joined them.

Then, suddenly, the lights were shut off. They were plunged into total darkness. Someone was there. Fear knocked them sideways, and Emily shouted shakily, "Who's out there?"

The lights came back on. This time, they weren't a gorgeous rose-coloured purple. They were bright and white, startling them. From the left side of the stage, footsteps approached. The girls flinched back only to have relief come crashing down on them when they faced Aria. Their fear turned quickly to reassurance, then again to concern when they heard her sniffle.

Halle stepped out. "Aria?"

"Thank god," Emily panted, "we can all go together. Does Noel have the car out back?"

Hanna ran to panic. "Aria, we have to go," she ordered. "We think the cops knows Ali's here, they're probably on their way right now."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Aria depressingly told them. Her sluggish feet dragged over the stage, barely lifting as she walked nearer to them. Her friends eyes her carefully, uneasy at her apathetic movements. Aria slouched down on the chair, dried streams marked her face. "Ezra's dead."

A beat of silence swallowed the group whole. The shock revelation winded them. They weren't certain it was true, but couldn't understand why Aria would lie. It had to be true, and yet, they couldn't understand it. It was hard to hear their bully was dead even if he deserved it.

Spencer choked on her own tongue to get one word out. "What?"

"Oh, my god," fell from Hanna. Her knees buckled at the news. "We killed him."

"No, no—" Alison profusely shook her head. She looked to Aria and reminded, "You said he was stable, that he was out of surgery."

"He—he was..." Aria heaved out. Her chest laboured with how difficult every breath was now Ezra was dead. "And then I... I... I was just so angry. And I was looking at him, thinking about what he did to me — to us," she wept without tears. Her face was screwed up, tightly constricted as she struggled with what had happened. "I kept thinking about what he did, how he lied." Her big, green eyes flashed up at them. Water swelled in them but never left. "He never told me the truth. Everything was a lie, and I... I put my hand to his..." She squeezed her eyes shut, wetting her lashes as she gasped. "I held onto his breathing tube so he couldn't breath."

Her friends realised quickly what was happening. What Aria was confessing to. It wasn't the bullet shot through his flesh that killed him. It was her. Aria had chosen to kill Ezra, and she made an emotional confession to it.

"He hurt me," she sobbed. "He hurt us, and I couldn't let him do this to us anymore." She was shaking her head, tears flinging from her as she did do. "It had to be over. I had to make sure he couldn't hurt us again."

Just like That Night, Halle rushed forward. "Aria," she said gently. On her knees, Halle presented herself in front of the crying girl and set her hands on Aria's own. "It's okay, I understand. We can fix this."

"No." Aria was distraught. She was leaking with her tears now, crippled by the influx of them. "You can't protect me this time," she said. "I killed him, Halle. I killed him, and the police are coming to get me."

"Then we have to leave," Halle said strongly.

"I can't," Aria cried out. "I murdered him, Halle."

"It was a mistake, Aria," Emily inserted, tears welling in her own dark eyes. "It was self-defence, you—"

Violently, Aria yelled, "It wasn't self-defence, Emily!" She screamed at them, "He was lying there in and out on consciousness in a hospital bed — and I smothered him! He was the defenceless one!"

"And how many times had he made you feel that way?" Emily challenged with a raised voice. "It was self-defence."

"But, I—"

"He is a monster," snapped Hanna, resolved to the outcome. "He deserved to die. It was justice."

Carefully cautious, Spencer asked her, "How did he die? Did—Did you smother him until he died or...?"

Aria gave a tiny shake of her head. "I..." She gulped nervously, "I squeezed the tube in my hand and then the—the machine went off." She inhaled sharply. "I realised what I was doing and stopped." She reassured, "I got help but it was too late."

"Then you didn't kill him," Spencer told her compassionately. "He died because he was shot. It was a result of him being shot — of him being A."

"And that was self-defence," Emily stated like Alison had done prior. "He lunged at Ali, he was gonna kill her."

Aria tried, "But I—I held—"

"It was nothing less than he deserved," said Spencer sternly. She hurried to sit beside Aria on the arm of the chair, holding her gaze. "You did what you had to do, okay?" she justified, hand around the back of Aria's head to press their foreheads together.

With that said aloud, Aria let out another loud sob and collapsed in Spencer's arms, trembling the earthquake of tears. Her friends were emotional also, crying together. They enclosed Aria in, enveloping her in their unwavering love and support.

"Spencer's right," Emily said, sniffling. "He would've done much worse to us. He has done worse to us."

Halle assured, "It would've ended with us dead."

"But if..." Aria peered out with glassy eyes. "If he's dead, then who's Red Coat? Who's he working with?"

"He's not," Noel's voice came from the right side of the stage. "Not anymore, anyway." He put down a zip-lock bag of the table in the middle, a cell-phone in it. "His phone," he stated. "I took it from him before the EMTs gave it to the cops."

"It's why I sent him to the hospital for you, Aria," Alison admitted, surprising the girls who blinked back their tears.

"It was an automated text sent out to an unknown number, and the flash-mob was organised already," noel told them. "Ezra had place an ad on Craigslist in case he couldn't get out on bail."

It shocked Alison. "He knew we were in New York?"

"It seems that way," Noel said. "He had his next-in-charge organise it."

"Who?" pushed Halle. "Do we know who that is?"

"No," sighed noel. "But I'm guessing, now their boss is dead, they're gonna go into hiding until it all blows over. They're not gonna risk getting connected to a murder. They didn't show tonight."

"So, we have to play it safe," Alison decided for the five.

"Then, what?" Aria was timid as she begged the question. "Is it really over?" She saw Alison nod, and Aria let out a small whisper. "...It's over."

"Yeah," said Spencer, and they moved in to hug Aria tighter. "It's over, Aria."

Softly crying, Emily whimpered, "Let's go home."

Strictly, Noel instructed, "Okay, but we need to leave now. If the cops know you're here, they're gonna send a cruiser. I've got the car out back," he said, and briskly grabbed at one of the girls' jackets. "I can get you to Philly, then you get the bus back to Rosewood. Let's go—" he got firmer with them, "Now!"

On his adamant and firm demand, the girls rushed to move. They collected up Aria from the couch and made sure to pick up everything they had entered with. Then, they were heading out of the side-door ready to go home.

To Rosewood.

•