•

"No One Here Can Love
Or Understand Me"

Night had fallen darkly. At half-ten, the sky was a deep, inky black due to it being in the dead of winter. The air around the liars was misty; rain warm within in from earlier. They reached the wet curb and stopped. All five stood in a line, having walked step-by-step as each other's sides, totally equal with one another. They were a team. An opposing one to Alison. That much was clear, especially with the evidence lining their pockets and the police station in their line of sight. This was their riskiest move yet. Each of them understood it could pay off really well or really, really badly.

There was no middle ground.

Heavily, Aria sighed and said, "Seems to me, we've been here before."

She wasn't wrong. They had be exactly here before, two weeks prior, with Alison after they had escaped from New York.

Hanna voiced adamantly, "We'll get it right this time."

"This time's different," agreed a determined Emily.

"It's five against one," said Halle, "Alison can't out-lie all of us."

Finally, Spencer concluded, "After this, Ali's on her own."

There was slight noise, like a switch turning on, that grabbed Emily's attention from the ivory building. Behind them, in the electronic store, the screens glitched, releasing static chatter. The four — not Emily — stepped off the curb, ready to walk over to the police station, yet Emily stopped them from going further.

"Wait."

The liars halted. Emily had alerted them to the window-display and they were staring back at the rows of television screens. The top middle one changed first. It was of Alison, looking back at them; the footage was in grey. One by one, the screens switched. Some were of the exact same image and others were at different angles, but all were of the stunning blonde in the pink and white pin-striped dress. The longer they stared at it, the more clarity washed over them as they soon realised what the image was showing and then where it was from.

It enchanted them. The liars drifted over to the glass front, heels clipping on the pavement, while Hanna stated to Halle, "That's when Ali came to our hospital rooms after Mona's party."

PROPERTY OF ROSEWOOD COMMUNITY HOSPITAL,
CONFIDENTIAL
— FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY.

Alison was looking directly at the camera like she knew it had captured her. Her face was clearer than anything else in the hospital hallway. She wasn't hiding. She had never been in hiding. Alison had been living in plain sight, blatantly. 

Several beeps sounded until red banners slipped on from either side.

WE'RE ALL IN THIS, TOGETHER

The beeping continued. It sped up as the bottom banner flashed on and off with 'TOGETHER' changing from black to red as it happened. The very same occurred again when a giant A glimmered on the top right screen. This was a message. A threat. A warning. A knew what they were doing, and was scaring them into obedience.

Wide-eyed, Emily whined in irritation, "We can't tell now."

"Well, why not?" Aria asked.

Frightened, Hanna gulped and shared, "Because no-one will believe we didn't know Ali was alive if they see this."

Aria frantically excused, "But you thought you were dreaming, you didn't know."

"They're not gonna believe her when they know two of us saw her that day," Halle voiced quietly, beaten into submission once more. "We've lost."

Devastation amassed with Spencer. It built and built. Her body shook with it until her grief went too far and amounted into physical violence. Sharply, she turned back, grabbed a brick from the side of the road and wielded it mightily. With a weapon in hand, Spencer brought it up and charged forward.

Immediately, both Emily and Hanna rushed to stop her.

"Hey, you can't!" shouted Emily.

"—It won't do any good!" said Hanna, panicked.

Spencer's arm was up and ready. She wanted to break the glass. She wanted to see it smash. She deserved to see it smash.

"It's not gonna help us," Halle urged her down.

Then, cautiously, Aria's trembling hand rested on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer's faced her friend, spying the water in Aria's eyes as she refused to lock onto the rock. A weapon Aria knew too well. Sternly, with her nostrils flared, Aria advised, "Spencer, put down the brick." Her words caused Spencer to stare back at the smug image of Alison, traumatised by the whole thing, while Aria said comfortingly, "Put it down, you will regret it if you do it, trust me."

The screens experienced another sudden change. Their five faces filled all of the televisions, and the liars took a step backwards in shock. They realised it was a live-feed — it was them now, currently, as they stood on the wet pavement. They were being watched. A knew they were there and what they were planning to do. There were no secrets from A. Furthermore, they retreated away, scared again. Their fears swept in fast, dread pulsating through their veins. After the majority of the screens went back to beautiful landscapes, the bottom left was the only one that didn't, and Spencer threw the rock to the ground.

ACT NORMAL, BITCHES.

•

While the others had gone home disappointed, Emily and Spencer chose to dwell in theirs together. They had ended up at The Brew. With the sign up and the staff-email that Emily had received saying that Zach was selling up and leaving town, they deemed it safe. They didn't feel like they were disrespecting either Aria or Hanna by being there. So while Emily collected two hot drinks with a mountain of squirty cream, Spencer sat with her legs drawn up to her chest, squashed into the left side of the sofa, in their favourite spot.

As Emily joined her, Spencer informed, "Hanna went to go check on Caleb, and Aria and Halle went home."

"Here," Emily said, offering out one of the drinks along with a long sundae spoon.

"I can't drink coffee right now," Spencer denied, and Emily lowered herself down on the sofa as well.

"No, it's decaf," Emily stated. She kept the mug held out to her friend as she said, "I brought it for the whipped cream."

A small smile graced Spencer's face. She accepted the drink from Emily just as Emily asked,

"Are you feeling better?"

Sitting up to better eat the squirty cream from the top of her drink, Spencer inhaled in a shaky breath. "Not better, less stupid," she said, and they both picked up their spoons to shovel up the cream. Spencer turned to Emily and said, "Thank you for stopping me."

In jest, Emily returned, "Save it got a real target." Despite purchasing the drink, Emily chose to play with her food. She spooned up the cream to let it drop back down. She did this several times, unable to eat it yet.

"What, A in the flesh?" supposed Spencer, before she ate a dollop of cream.

"That's one candidate," retorted Emily, as she created a smooth mountain with the silver back of her spoon.

Spencer noted her friend's behaviour and questioned, "What are you thinking?"

She took a moment before Emily spoke boldly. It was a wild claim to make, nut she di so out of annoyance: "'We're all in this together'? I mean, that could be A or..." Emily drifted off.

Realisation dawned on Spencer, and she stopped sucking the spoon. Her browed lifted, in awe of the bravery behind Emily's implication.

" ... It could be Alison," Emily unwillingly finished.

After a deep inhale, Spencer decided she'd need more cream in her stomach if she was going to have this conversation. She ate another spoonful, then remarked, "Or A wanting us to think it's Alison. Noel never said which one he thought it was..." she sucked the spoon clean, "but he hinted to one or the other," she concluded.

"Great," muttered Emily sarcastically. "Noel is keeping secrets too."

"He has been for a year, Em," Spencer inserted, flat. "He's known since the night Ian died in the bell town, Noel's better at keeping secrets than all of us."

A phone rang between them. Both their phones were rested on the middle cushion of the couch. One of them was lit up, and Spencer picked it up to check. Bemused, she said, "It's Alison."

Eagerly, Emily shifted forward. "Are you gonna answer?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

The ringing stopped after Spencer decline the call. She put her phone aside, on the arm of the sofa, out of view, and said, "I think we need to hit the mute button for right now." Looking to Emily, Spencer spied how her nervous friend rocked her spoon back and forth in the cream. "Hey, how are you?" said Spencer, and her softness caused Emily's head to raised in surprise. Spencer explained, "You're the one who held in there the longest with her."

Emily shook her head and shared her side, "I wasn't defending Ali." She looked off. "I was defending somebody from a long time ago." Exhaling, it settled within Emily now when she added, "Maybe somebody who never existed." A disgruntled scoff escape while she was shaking her head in pure disbelief, laced thickly with irritation. "God, the thing I had with Halle was so genuine and I threw it away over a crush I had in the eleventh-grade, on someone that held my sexuality over me like some cruel joke. I had Halle, of all people — Halle!" Emily frowned deeply, her tummy hurting, while she said, "I loved her and she loved me, and I ruined it."

"To be fair, you and Halle have the same problem," Spencer offered through honest teasing, "you both like the DiLaurentis' a little too much."

With a depressed sigh, shaking her head, Emily said, "Halle knew it was over the moment she walked in on us in New York."

Spencer diverted her gaze away so that she appeared nonchalant. "I thought you said nothing happened in New York, between you and Ali."

"No, but I wanted it to," Emily admitted. "You were right, Halle wasn't the first one to cave."

"I know she's been with Jason a lot—" Spencer's brows furrowed when she said, "and I don't know what they even are, if they're together or not. I know he's helping us, but..." She looked to Emily and gently wondered, "Can you fix it? Apologise? It's only been two weeks, right?"

"Sure, yeah," Emily countered, sarcasm at the root, "I can go up to Halle and say, 'so you were right all along'—" a tight smile pulled at Emily as she mocked herself, "'My bad, forget Jason, let's kiss and makeup.'" She gave Spencer a hard look. "You and me both know how that'll go — what Halle would say."

"Oh, she's hate it," Spencer agreed, eyebrows up at the cold thought.

Another heavy sigh left Emily. "Plus, out of all of us, she seems to be in a good place — whether that's Jason or not, I have no clue," she said.

"Well, she's protecting her peace either way," Spencer voiced, "which is what we all should be doing now that Red Coat's stepped up to the A-plate."

This time, it was Emily's phone went off. Between the girls, it buzzed when a new incoming call lit up the screen. Plucking up the device, Emily looked it over. "It's Ali," she stated, droning almost.

"She's looking for us." Playing with her cream, Spencer remarked, "She must be nervous."

Emily stared at the ringing phone. "Not as nervous as her dad." While Spencer casually ate the cream, Emily chose to ignore the call like the former had. "He's taking her out of town," Emily informed. "He's worried about the kidnapper."

Miffed, Spencer said, "Ali's lucky they released him when they did," and she continued to eat more.

As Emily rotated the spoon, she watched miserably as the dollop of cream clung to her spoon. She tried to shake it off, but it didn't work so she put it back, smoothing the cream over. Her voice was dry while she commented, "Real lucky."

Warmly smiling, Spencer said, "Don't play with your comfort food."

Emily appreciated the tender way Spencer treated her and returned the smile. Their lives weren't changing the way they had set out that night, but at least they still had each other. She was grateful for that — for the healing fractures of her group — yet she knew it wasn't over. Emily knew she could still get one point on the board against Alison before the night was over.

That was her next stop.

•

Through the shutter doors, Hanna walked into the woodsy cabin out by the lake. There, in the dark, she discovered Caleb sleeping soundly in the armchair with a blanket around him. After the night she had, Hanna felt lighter at the sweet sight. She was grateful he was actually sleeping when he hadn't been. So, Hanna smiled softly at the comfort it brought her, her swiftly coming to understand that even after their time apart, Caleb was still Hanna's solace.

Hanna ventured further into the cabin, stopping at chair to adjust the blanket. She covered Caleb more with the thick fabric and pressed a kiss to his head. Pulling back, Hanna smiled a little more then retreated. She went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and stared blankly at its contents. Food was sparse. Hanna debated ordering in at the late time, gorging herself on some fat noodles until she felt sick. She felt sick already. Shaking her head, Hanna decided she wasn't hungry.

She collected herself a glass of water instead. The tap spluttering to life, spurting out the water, woke Caleb. His eyes squinted open, him groggily humming as he glanced over to the weakly-lit kitchen. Still affected by his sleep, he met her with a tired yawn. "Hey."

"Oh—" Hanna shut off the tap fast, her glass now full, "sorry," she said. The guilt for waking him struck her as odd, but she supposed it wasn't unusually considering Caleb had barely slept since coming home to Rosewood.

"When did get back?" he asked as he sat forward, causing the blanket to fall from him. Caleb rubbed his eyes, tired and with grey bags beneath them. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I only just got here," justified Hanna. "You looked peaceful," she said truthfully. "I didn't wanna disturb you, you've been struggling to sleep recently."

Furrowing his brows, Caleb's entire face folded up in denial. "That's not true."

"Caleb, I woke up last night and you were at the door with a baseball bat," Hanna remarked flatly. "You barely sleep between keeping guard and typing at your computer."

"It's nothing," Caleb said. He rose from the chair and joined her. "I just can't sleep right now."

Hanna persisted, "Why not? Why can't you sleep?"

Completely ignoring, Caleb turned to lean on the side opposite, using his palms as support, and asked instead, "What happened with the police?"

Upset, Hanna stood with her free arm hugging her front. She looked down to her shoes as she revealed, "We never made it."

"Why not?" Caleb asked, confused.

Annoyance flared up in her when she had to say, "Because A chopped us off at the ankles, that's why not." She told him, "And look, we can't be telling people we haven't seen Alison when there are pictures of her leaving my hospital room when she was supposed to be dead."

Clarifying, Caleb asked, "A has those pictures?"

Her pressed smile was the answer. Hanna dipped her chin down to the floor while her big, blue eyes looked up at him. She was miserable when she said, "We're back were we started."

Caleb absorbed it with slight irritation. Like Hanna, he had hoped to get one step ahead of Alison — securely separated from the ex-leader and her heinous ways. One thing was certain: Caleb wanted Hanna far away from Alison, and A was making it difficult.

"We always end up back where we started," Hanna replied, saddened.

At the door came a knock, which interrupted them. The recently reunited couple looked over to find Emily through the shutter-door, dithering in the cold.

It puzzled Hanna. "Em?"

Sheepishly, Emily entered, "Hey, can I talk to you?"

"We were just together—"

"Not you, Han," Emily cut her friend off. She nodded towards the boy. "Caleb."

Surprised, Caleb looked to Emily in confusion. "Me?"

Later, Caleb and Emily collected around the small, circular table in the kitchen. His laptop was out, having been next to the armchair as he had slept earlier, and Emily recounted to him why she desired his help.

"So you're telling me she's identified this guy and now she's left town because of this attacker?" Caleb questioned, rolling his eyes at how much he loathed Alison and all her actions.

"No, she knew him," Emily revealed to him, "from when she was on her own. The name he gave the police was Cyrus Petrillo," she said clearly, emphasising it. "Now, I don't remember hearing that name anywhere and it's not in that god-awful book of Ezra's, but we haven't checked his research yet," she briskly inserted. "I was gonna ask Halle to go up to the storage unit to check, but I'm not hopeful." She expanded, "Ezra didn't have much on the time Ali was gone, it's pretty much blank."

"Yeah, it was all on you guys," Caleb noted, "I remember." Out of utter bewilderment, he glanced to Emily and asked, "Why would this guy confess to a crime he didn't commit?"

Already in the bad place, her thoughts running wide with the image of Alison masterminded it all, Emily reasoned, "Maybe he knew it wouldn't stick." After a beat, she added another suggestion, "Maybe he knew Ali wouldn't confirm the story until it was too late."

Caleb understood but still figured it too risky, "Yeah, but if you're this guy, why would you even take that chance?" His eyes had enlarged as he spoke, realising aloud, "Because somebody has something worse to use against you." His mind went to Hanna, her now in the bedroom while he had this conversation. "Yeah, Alison was always good at that."

Trusting him, Emily reached for her backpack and unzipped the front-pocket. Out of it, she pulled out the chunky envelope with Noel Kahn's evidence, and Emily slid out the photograph of Alison to hand over.

"What's this?" asked Caleb, as he took it.

"This is Alison," Emily explained, "while she was missing."

In shock, Caleb's stare flashed down to it. "Where did you get this?"

"Noel Kahn," Emily told him. "It's his evidence — his back-up for when Ali turns on him."

"Smart," Caleb commented, surprisingly impressed. "He's not nearly as dumb as he pretends to be."

Desperately, Emily said, "I need you to find what you can, if you can. You're the only one who might be able to help me get me the answers that I need."

"Okay," Caleb said, confirming his help without any hesitation. "I don't need convincing, Emily," he expressed earnestly. "I wanna help you guys, so we can put this to bed, finally." Scooching his laptop to him, his eyes strained and exhausted, Caleb mentioned, "I'll see what I can find out about Cyrus and this photo."

"Thanks, Caleb," Emily replied with a soft smile.

"Hey—" his stare lifted to her, "you okay after tonight?"

Emily stopped for a moment. He was the second person to ask her the same thing that night, so Emily knew they were worried about her — about what losing faith in Alison would do to her. She swallowed it down with a, "I'm gonna be."

"I'll get on this," Caleb comforted, "and you should take care of yourself."

"You too," responded Emily as she stood. She picked up her bag and told said, "Hanna's worried."

Lightly, Caleb remarked, "Hanna's always worried."

"No, Caleb," Emily's voice was full of serious concern at how tired he looked. "About you," she said, "Hanna's worried about you."

•

After stumbling in on her brother with their first A, Aria had this fire in her belly she couldn't rid herself of. It was fight or flight, and she had the urge to fight each time the opportunity presented itself. Aria had spent too long cowering, suppressed into a corner and told to be a good girl for her to continue doing it. She had done bad things. They were out in the open now —transparent to her group — why should she hide how she felt about Mona of all people? So, Aria didn't. Recounting it perfectly, the next day, Aria told her best friends about the new couple.

At the information, Hanna remarked, "Your brother deserves way than Mona."

As distasteful as it sounded to Halle, to evaluate what someone deserved like her group had the moral compass to do that, she understood. Mona had put them through hell. Halle had two fracture ribs and a scar from where the car hit her, and it wasn't hard to know why Aria wouldn't want Mike dating Mona. At times, Halle didn't want her own brother around Mona and they were certainly not locking lips. Mona was sneaky and manipulative. Halle never knew where she stood with Mona, or what Mona was planning. It made complete sense why Aria would feel the same, especially with Mike being younger.

"Boys hate it when you question their judgement," reported Spencer logically against what Hanna had said.

A dry jest left Halle, "Sometimes, boys can be so goddamn fragile."

Opening up her locker, Aria inserted, "If I try to tell Mike that Mona isn't what he's looking for—"

"You won't be able to separate them with a crowbar," finished a spiteful Emily.

The four other liars looked at Emily strangely. They questioned that harsh language and why that was the thing she chose to state out aloud, unsupportive of Aria. It was like Emily felt the words she said, deeply. Halle quirked an eyebrow up at it, wondering more as she gazed towards her ex.

Wryly, Spencer commented, "Colourful, Em. Graphic, but colourful."

At the call-out, Emily glanced down at her shoes, causing Aria to send her a pressed, soft smile. After shoving away her textbook, Aria shut her locker and the five began their journey towards their next class. They had barely stepped off when Hanna spoke up, expressing her nerves.

"You guys, I had a bad thought," she said.

Moving the strap of her bag further onto her shoulder so it sat comfortably, Aria said encouragingly, "Well, why should you be any different? Share."

"A doesn't want us telling the truth about Ali because they like to see us suffer," Hanna started off, setting the mood to uneasy but known.

"Not new information," Spencer replied regretfully.

"But—" Hanna briskly, put, "who besides A wants us to keep us quiet?"

Spencer turned to her slightly and asked, "Are you think about somebody in particular?

In a flash, Aria said, "Mona."

After a deep breath, Hanna revealed, "Not Mona."

Realisation dawned on Halle first. It wasn't a new thought to her, or others within the group, but it was the first time it was being voiced with all five liars there with reasonable doubt in the air. "I think Han's talking about somebody closer to home," said Halle.

They reached the end of the corridor, near the courtyard, and stopped. Aria furrowed her brows as she asked, "Well, who's left?"

"Alison," Emily answered seriously.

All their eyes fell to Hanna, her feeling judged mildly for even going there so openly now the group had turned against their old leader. It didn't matter if every person agreed; to speak it felt like crime.

"That is a bad thought," Spencer said. "But it's not new, either."

"Noel more than implied it," Halle said, peeved while still confident. "I mean, he told Spencer he thought Ali had something to do with the night Toby's house blew up."

"—What?"

"—What?"

Both Emily and Hanna were gawking at her. At them. The three stood opposite to the two on the outside. The other three — Halle, Aria and Spencer — had discussed it already. They knew how they felt, now Halle was gauging how the couple facing her did as well.

With a sigh, Spencer explained, "The night I went out to the lake-house, I saw Noel. I told you guys that part," she said. "But I didn't wanna tell you everything until I spoke to Halle first."

Sucking her teeth, Halle said, "Noel told Spencer that he thought Alison wanted rid of him, so that was why the house blew when he was inside of it. She'd kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of Noel and get rid of the evidence Shana gave Jenna. Noel seemed to think Alison knew the location changed," she concluded.

"But, Halle.." Emily melted entirely. "Your dad."

"Yeah," Halle responded, just as the bell rang. "She knew about that, too." Feeling the rage bring forward a need to cry, not to punch a wall, Halle sought an out. "Look, I gotta go," she said. "I can't miss the start of Chem."

"I gotta go, too," Aria said.

"Yeah, me too," shared Emily. She reassured the group, "I'll talk to Halle, she'll open up to me. Later," she said, before walking off with Aria for their next class.

Heading of also, Spencer went to split from Hanna when the blonde stopped her. A hand curled around Spencer's arm, and Hanna said, "Hey, wait a second."

"Is this another bad thought?" Spencer immediately assumed.

Hanna didn't answer her; she wasn't entirely sure what she'd identify this as, but Hanna  knew she had to try. "Do you still talk to that guy, Dean?" she asked.

Confusion hit Spencer. "My sober-coach?" She said, "Not since my mom fired him, why?"

"He's not just a sober-coach, right? He's a life-coach, too," Hanna speculated, only to receive a serious and worry look from Spencer. "It's not for me, it's for Caleb."

Spying the teary concern lacing her friend's tone, Spencer dropped her voice. She knew this was serious now. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know and he won't tell me," Hanna said, as she unleashed just an ounce of her fear for her boyfriend. "He's not sleeping, and he's always fixed to his laptop." Out of her sadness, she tried to joke, "I'd have to get a crowbar to separate him from that."

Although Spencer greatly sympathised, she replied, "You can't just introduce Caleb to a total stranger and say, 'let's talk about this problem you've been having.'" She recalled from memory, "Think about how many sessions you shook off Dr Sullivan before you let her in."

Upset, Hanna insisted, "Spencer, I have to do something."

Hanna's worry etched across the entirety of her delicate face. It was a tender spot, one the two of them would have to navigate with immense caution. Spencer was more than willing to help, but it had to be done right. "I think there's somebody better for him to talk to."

•

"Hey, you."

Emily kept her tone light. Happy. Almost too happy. The very second Halle heard it and lifted her head from the History textbook and the study-guide she was actively high-lighting towards the sound of her friend's voice, Emily knew she had messed up immediately. Halle gave her a bored look, her stare fed-up and her mouth in a freakishly straight line.

Holding back the urge to let out an exasperated, deep sigh, Halle attempted not to harden her eyes as she asked, "What do you want, Em?"

"I wanna talk," Emily answer. She entered the invisible threshold of the outdoor table Halle perched at alone, on the front lawn of the high school, where Halle had taken to during study hall. "About everything."

"Everything?" Halle questioned that dubiously. Wrly, she mentioned, "Somehow I doubt it."

"I'm serious, Hal," Emily said, almost too keenly . "I wanna talk about everything." She listed, "About what Noel said to Spencer, what you said to us. Or rather what you didn't say." She dove forwards the table, towards her friend; her knees brushed agains the wood seat. "I'm listening now. I wasn't before," she said. "I was too caught up in—"

"In Alison," Halle knowingly concluded, her head angled up to stare directly up at the girl.

Emily gave a shameful nod. "In Alison, yeah."

"Look," Halle began, "there ain't much else to say. You're finally free of the Ali-tint and I'm ahead of you, thinking maybe our ex-best friend has been just that — and worse — for a whole lot longer than we originally thought. Or maybe I'm not," she said in miraculously mocking. "I mean, you were the first person who suggested Alison was A after Ravenswood."

"I know, but that changed after Ali—"

"After pulled you back in again," Halle finished for her. "Yeah, I know, Em, I was there." Her tone was dry, clipped. It was clear Halle was over it — over the conversation — over Emily's needy antics where the DiLaurentis girl was concerned. "Then, New York happened, and Ezra was A. Now, whoever the hell Red Coat is stepped up to bat. For all we know, that could be Ali. I mean, Red Coat was originally her, right? And you saw her the night Bethany's body was stolen." A scoff left Halle, "It's like every other person knew it wasn't her in that grave and we're expected to be okay with it? Not look at Alison like she's not the mastermind? Hell freakin' no."

Shame seemed to piled onto more shame fro Emily. While Halle's train of thoughts — and her hotly driven words — took quick aim at Emily, they swiftly transferred to Alison. To A. It frightened Emily to ask, and yet, she did anyway. "Do you really believe there's a chance she's A?"

"I—" The words were caught in Halle's throat. She felt their stick to either side of the column, imagining them clawed into the tissue, refusing to come out when all her brain wanted was to say them. "I don't know," she said instead. "I think there's a chance she is, or a higher chance that she's got a deal with whoever Red Coat is."

"You know..." Emily sat herself down beside Halle, on the seat next to her at the outdoor table. "I know what you mean about looking at Alison's actions and not liking what you see. I really wanted to believe Alison was good. That she had changed. When she first... appeared," she said it strangely, like it was still weird to her despite it being her life, "like that time outside the barn, when A almost killed me," she expanded, "she was kind. She was the Ali I always I had in my head, that I convinced myself existed outside of her wanting something from me. She was like that in New York—"

"Em, you don't have to," Halle interrupted softly. Sensing where it was going, Halle refused to force Emily to have a conversation she wasn't ready to have just because Halle was tired and was left without answers. It didn't sit well with Halle to make it happen.

"No, I wanna," Emily decided. "I wanna tell you." With a forcible exhale, she allowed herself to share further — to continue letting it out. "I got a glimpse of the Alison I thought she was. And when we first came back, she kept on giving me those glimpses, but that's all they were. Small, tiny moments that went away in a flash. And I clung to them because... Well, you know what a first love feels like," Emily offered out, and Halle nodded supportively as her mind travelled to Jason. "How you can't breathe around them. How they have this part of you that you want back. That kind of innocence that nobody has apart from them. And I kept telling myself that was who I was defending, that was who I was choosing. Over and over until..."

Emily's mouth parted. For a moment, she hesitated. Her chest clenched, constricting her while she fought to get it out. "Until... until Sydney held up a mirror to me," she confessed. "I realised that who I was defending wasn't real. Not really. That Alison has done so many horrible, indefensible things... to me, to you, to our families." Emily's eyes were glassy, as were Halle's as she added, "Your dad." Sucking the tears back, Emily said, "Alison knew what NAT was, and she was using it. For her own cause." It was painful to admit, but Emily did well at it. "She knew what Ian Thomas was and instead of helping that girl... Brooklyn," she expressed, eyes shut in shame. "Alison blackmailed Ian for money so she could stay gone while we faced A." Her eyes met Halle's, and Emily said, "She left us to face the monster she created. I can't forgive for that."

Slowly, Halle's hand reached across the table and grasped at both of Emily's. She squeezed them affectionately, a teary smile on her face. "You know, I'm really proud of you, Em," she said. "You're good. Infinitely good. And you see the good people even when they don't, or they deserve it. Sometimes, that's the thing I love the most about you. And other times, I hate it. I really, really hate it," she said with a light chuckle, which Emily shared. "But I'm proud of you, for cutting that tie to Alison."

"I wanna find that video," Emily told Halle truthfully. "The one of Brooklyn," she said. "I wanna find it and give it to her, so she has the choice of what to do with it. Destroy or give it to the cops, I don't care. nobody should have that but her."

"I don't how she'd react to being given that," Halle responded, equally as honest. "It's evil — what happened to her. She's... She has been living with that, with what Ian Thomas did to her, every single day. It changed her, Em, so I don't know what she'd do if she was given a copy of that video. It could break her."

"But she deserves to have justice," Emily pushed naively.

"And she deserves the chance to move on with her life, too," Halle spoke from experience. This year, she had finally pushed that video of her from her mind then A — Ezra — decided to remind her exactly what he thought of her. The worst moment of her life, the biggest mistake she ever made, was constantly brought up, and Halle couldn't escape it. She wasn't the one doing it, either. She wasn't reliving it to heal her trauma; she was forced to relive it because A wanted to ruin Halle. "Look," she sighed and said, "if you wanna find it, I'll help you — one-hundred percent — but then we give it to Sydney."

Emily's face contorted up with bewilderment. "What? Why would we do that?"

"Because we'd be giving it to the sister who transferred schools to find out the truth of what happened the night her sister got hurt — by two people," Halle revealed purposefully. "We let Sydney tell her sister, then they decide — as a family."

"Sydney lied to us," Emily said, arguing mildly. "She infiltrated our group — your school council hours to manipulate us. She played with us."

"I'm aware," Halle said. "And yeah, it was really crappy, but I can't say what I would do for my family if that had happened to us. God, Em, I was ready to kill A after my dad," she unloaded earnestly. "And I would kill for each and every one of you, so, yeah... Sydney lied, but she did out of love not hate."

"She hates us," Emily replied. In a mutter, she added, "She hates me."

Smiling a tad at her friend's stubbornness, Halle said, "Yeah, sure. She hates you so much she put you forward for an assistant coach position, and even ordered and paid to get an uniform for you. Yeahhh," Halle drew out, "that's hate for sure."

A lightness soared over Emily. Her shoulders relaxed as a smile came to her face. "Sydney did help me realise I could still love swimming without competively swimming," she said. "And it does feel good being back in that locker room," she admitted.

"I bet," Halle replied, still with a smile.

The smile on Emily's lips matched Halle's own. For a second, fleeting, they were both content. With everything going on, they both seemed to still. The earth was steady, solid, unaffected by all the chaos around them. They foundation was good. So, Emily decided to test it.

"Hey, um, do you think we could talk later? Like, tonight?" she said.

"I, uh," Halle said. "I have plans tonight, but you're right. We should talk more, properly too," she stated for the pair of them. "I'll call you?"

"Please," said Emily, over-keen and apprehensive.

•

The last sprig of sunshine covered Rosewood's town centre, and yet, it bought no warmth as they were in the heart of winter. The air was cold, bitter almost, but for some reason, it continued to shine. The liars were missing their fifth member, Spencer, as they walked down the sidewalk after Spencer had discovered a letter from Melissa behind her bedroom door.

"The note said that Spencer should know everything soon," Hanna informed the three, having been there when Spencer had found the letter.

"What does that mean?" asked a deeply concerned, and panicked, Emily.

In annoyance, Aria said, "Well, it means what it always means." She released her frustration, "Nobody tells you anything when you wanna know it, only when they feel like telling it."

Sharing in the same irritability, Hanna remarked, "And then only tell you enough to make you crazy to know more."

"What's everything, though?" Halle asked them, baffled by the extreme nature of the secretive letter. "Like, what could Melissa be hiding?"

"Well, she was the Black Swan," chided Hanna.

"But that was because she was being blackmailed, we know that secret now," Aria reasoned.

"The town doesn't," reasoned Halle. "How'd you think Rosewood would react to a Hastings faking a pregnancy for so long?" She said, "That book is coming out and soon most of our lies are gonna be on everyone's lips, Melissa can't risk that too."

At the mention of the book, Emily had to pry, "Has anyone talked to Ali?"

"She calls, but I don't pick up," Aria answered.

Halle agreed, "Ditto."

Abruptly stopping, Hanna sighed out nervously, "You guys, I had a bad thought." Out her anxiousness, Hanna ran her fingers through her hair when they all looked to her. She defended, "I know, I'm sorry — they just keep showing up in my head."

Full of dread, Emily asked, "What's this one?"

While Hanna brushed her hair from her face, she sighed, "Ali left town, but A said she couldn't."

"A strangled her for it in her own living room," Halle stated.

Hanna pointed out, "So what changed?"

"Exactly what Noel's been saying," Aria voiced. "Ali made a deal with him, maybe she made a deal with somebody else?"

"You're thinking she made a deal with A to leave town?" Emily followed, eyes widening slowly as more horror and realisation seeped in. She glanced to Hanna. "What kind of deal?"

Tired, an annoyed Halle announced, "The kind where she's not gonna get attacked in her living room and where we can't tell the cops."

Their collective anxiety swirled high. Their stomachs clenched with the sheer amount of nerves floating between them. They only served to rise, climaxing when a stern voice tried to sound welcoming.

"Hello, girls."

The detective presented herself before the group of teens. The mood worsened, darkening. Tanner stepped up onto the curb as she met them on even turf, her presence still a deadly mix of domineering and patronizing and curious.

"Lucky to get most of you at the same time. I was hoping we could talk," she said. With a smile, Tanner gave a shrug of her shoulder. "My treat."

All the girls tried to press their smiles, and they diverted their eyes away. They told themselves if they didn't look, they didn't have to answer. It wasn't happening. It was, however. That much was clear when they agreed to sit with her outside The Mermaid Cafe, refusing to go to the The Brew while with Aria, and Tanner faced them on an opposing side.

Around a small, circular Table, Tanner started, "You're concerned about the suspect who was released prematurely. I wanna assure you, we will catch him."

Uncomfortable, Emily attempted to push that uneasy feeling down. "That's good to know," she said.

The lie haunted the liars. Alison's kidnapping tale stalked them around town, into their homes, into their rooms. Glancing to Emily, Hanna looked far too wary to appear innocent; Aria averted her gaze down to her lap; and Halle sucked her teeth while she kept her hands cupped around the take-away cup of hot chocolate.

Tanner: advised them, "Take reasonable precaution, report anything out of the ordinary — anything." She told the four, "Let us decide what's relevant."

Halle asked, "Like what?"

"Do you have something in mind?" Tanner curiously pressed.

"Just..." Halle faked a tender act and answered, "I wouldn't know what to report. Things I have reported in the past ain't worked out for me, or us."

"My office is always open for you girls, if you wanna chat," Tanner said. "We just want to help put this perpetrator away for a long time," she concluded, before she stood up from the table.

Smiling weakly, Aria said, "We will."

When the detective turned her back on the, the liars exchanged wary looks of relief. It weighed heavy on them. It was a lot to deal with — to keep under-wraps — especially when they wanted to voice it so desperately. The liars wanted to go to the police and tell the truth, but A stopped them. Something was always stopping them whether it was A or Alison, or a family member being involved or a rock.

"Oh—" Tanner returned to them, her voice gentle. She pretended to ease them in like a spider with their sticky web, enticing the flies near in with false trust. "I have been meaning to ask you all something," she mentioned, and the girls looked up to her as she took to the chair once more. Settling down, Tanner planted her hands on the table and asked, "Who do you think killed Bethany Young?"

They were stunned. The girls were speechless. In her chair, Halle felt herself stiffen while the others shook. It was an accusation, thinly veiled and pointed. Tanner was looking at them like they knew more — like their pieces of what happened That Night were significant and more than they ever shared with the police. They were; however, only Emily saw Bethany Young, and in Emily's drugged, hazy memory, Bethany had the face of Alison.

Hanna asked, confused, "Who do we think killed her?"

Tanner reasoned, "Well, you must have thought about it. How she was killed on the same night Alison was kidnapped."

"Um—" Aria was stumped as she said, "I haven't given it much thought."

"Really?" Tanner questioned them, floored at their lack of reaction.

Fearful, Aria shook her head and forced her lips sealed.

Emily said, "None of us knew Bethany Young."

"I know that," Tanner acknowledged. "We haven't been able to find a single connection between you and the dead girl. Except, that she was killed thirty yards away from where you all were sleeping," she chuckled lightly.

"And that's the only connection there," Halle firmly stated. "With us, anyway."

"I just thought you might have talked about it." Tanner commented, "I guess girls are different from when I was your age."

Impulsively, Halle sucked in a breath and launched. "We have, talked about it," she said, and her friends' stares to her with wide-eyes as Tanner stilled from standing again.  "We have talked about it, but... it's just thoughts. Like you said, this is happened around us, it'd be weird if we didn't."

"Well," said Tanner, "who did you think it was?"

Halle matched the woman's tone. "Well," she started bracingly, "it's hard to guess. One moment you're looking at somebody and you're sure it's them. The next, they're in the clear and you're looking through the gap for another suspect. Lucky for us, though—" Halle reclined comfortably in her chair and said, "it ain't our job to solve it. It's yours."

"That it is," Tanner confirmed, a small smirk curving at her mouth. "Thank you for the insight, girls, I'll make sure my next suspect is stronger," she said. Tanner flashed them a smile meant unnerve them, turned around and walked away, her sleek heels clicking as she went down the street.

Immediately, a hot-headed Hanna was on Halle's case. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"I had to do something," Halle excused defensively. "She's tryna get in our heads."

"Well, it's working," snapped Hanna irritably.

With her hand tightly locked either side of her seat, Aria lurched forward and said, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Supportively, Hanna rested a hand on Aria's shoulder. She hoped to bring some comfort while Emily dipper her head and coached, "Just hold it until she's out of sight."

•

With Jason's wallet in her hand, Halle quickly popped into The Brew for two early evening coffees. It was quieter in the evenings, less busy, and Halle was grateful to have been served straight away. "Uh, one medium Americano, one macchiato," Halle said. "For take-out, thanks." As much as she loathed the idea of lining Zach's pockets with her money, every other place served the worst coffee; and thankfully, the disgusting man had carted off back to Vienna the second Aria's mom called it quits. Halle relished knowing she wouldn't have to see him and damage her fist the way Caleb had when he decked Zach's jaw. Halle smiled at the thought; she did wish she got one good punch in before

Her gaze drifted down to the counter, towards the old fashioned cashier. Stapled to the back of it was the same poster as in the window, reminding every customer that the business and building was for sale. Halle cast her mind back to what Mrs DiLaurentis mentioned — about her mother — and Halle's smile grew mischievously. Pulling out her phone, she loaded up her message to her mother, snapped a photograph of the poster and sent it off. A quick message followed:

Kinda thinking about this for you

Satisfied with what she had sent, Halle slid her phone back into her jean-skirt pocket. She looked up just in time as the barista placed down the two drinks. "Thanks," Halle said. She opened up Jason's wallet, ready to pull out a five-dollar bill, when her gaze caught onto the two photo-booth images of her and Jason from last summer. The ripped edge signalled he had his half as she did, but he had kept in his wallet the whole time, together or not. "Oh—" Halle snapped out of her little love haze and handed over the money. "Keep the change, put it in the tip jar."

She flashed a smile, hands picking up the two coffees, when the kitchen door swung open. Halle had just moved slightly, turning, when her warm gaze set on Emily, who wore a red apron and carried a square bowl to clear the tables. "Oh, hey."

"Hey," Emily met with surprise.

"I didn't think you worked this shift anymore," Halle said.

"Uh, I—I don't," Emily replied awkwardly. "I mean, I'm just helping out tonight. Are—Are you busy?" she asked. "We could have that talk."

"I, uh, can't," Halle told her, just as Emily spied the two take-out cups and the wallet lodged between the second coffee and Halle's grip. "I told you, I have plans."

Emily dipped her gaze. "With Jason."

"Yeah," Halle confirmed softly.

"So," Emily gulped, "are you back together, officially?"

"Officially—" Halle smiled a tiny bit, "yeah," she said. "We're together. Actually, I gotta go," she regretfully pointed out. "We're heading out."

"Out?" Emily questioned.

"Uh, The Edgewood Motor Court," Halle mentioned. "Hence the coffee—" she lifted the take-out cups up, "'cos the motel stuff is bad," she jested lightly.

That only confused Emily more. "Why are you going to the Edgewood?"

"Well, his house has been taken over and mine is full 'round this time of year," Halle answered. "We're just after some privacy, I guess."

"Oh, right." Emily's face inflamed at the unspoken insinuation — what privacy truly meant. "Well, have a good night," she said meekly.

"Thanks," Halle said with a pressed smile. "Have a good rest of your shift."

After, Halle left. With her two coffees, one of her and one for Jason, she walked of the quaint, quiet cafe and exited into the brittle night. It was icy cold, freezing. Halle felt a sudden drop in temperature since the afternoon, a chilly mist in the air, since Tanner cornered them. It surrounded her, as she went to cross the street.

"Hello, Halle," came a male voice, polite enough to potentially disarm her.

Glancing to her side, coming from the left of her, Halle saw the state police officer approach. He stepped up the curb just as Halle greeted him back. "Detective Holbrook." She commented, "Wow, I get the both of you in one day. Am I lucky or just unfortunate?"

Coolly, he responded, "I think you ought to be the judge of that."

"Usually I'm the one being judged," Halle said, unimpressed, "so that's a nice change, I guess."

"How's your family?" Holbrook wondered. "Since the accident."

Sardonically, Halle wore a wound, forced smile and retorted, "You mean since my dad's car had a small explosive device under it and you can't figure out who did it? Well, he's doing fine, Detective."

"You don't like me much," suspected Holbrook.

"I don't like cops," Halle chided.

"Yeah, I can't blame you for that," Holbrook said, accepting. "You've had a hard time these past few years."

"Me and my friends," she corrected him firmly.

"Yes," agreed Holbrook. "All of you have."

Suspicious, Halle asked him, "Why are you being nice to me?"

He chuckled and said, "Can't I be nice?"

"No," Halle answered him shortly. "No cop is nice to me unless they want something, or they're Barry."

"Barry... As in Officer Maple?" Holbrook followed. He checked in, "The one who gave a statement supporting your claim against Detective Wilden being inappropriate with you?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "Wow, proving my point in less that five seconds." Halle commented, "You're not as subtle as your partner."

Holbrook didn't reply. Instead he looked towards the police station and asked, "Can I give you a lift? It's cold out."

"No, thanks," Halle said. Smiling, she had already spotted the silver convertible steadily heading towards them. "My lift is right there." A glimmer of cheek dashed across her eyes as she gestured forward with her head, revealing Jason. Halle looked back at Holbrook and said, "Maybe in a few years you'll be as good as your superior, huh? I mean, she really knows who to make a person uneasy. You... Well, it's probably the face."

He was baffled by her statement. "My face?"

"It's too charming," Halle informed. "It's how you got to Hanna despite wrongfully locking her mom up." She added, "That same shtick don't work on me, I'm afraid. But god loves a trier." Halle gave him a smile and wished, "Have a good night, Detective."

"You too, Halle," he said back to her. His eyes watched her as she went, watching her intently while she travelled over to the parked car and climbed. Holbrook saw her greet Jason with a kiss to his cheek and by handing over the take-out cup that was his. Lowly, under his breath, Holbrook repeated his words. "You too."

•

The confession weighed heavy on her. It affected every fibre of her tense body. Every limb of her shook. Her hand trembled as she reached for her water, eyes barely noticing the thin slice of lemon that sat on its surface. The drink served as a distraction — something to occupy her nervous hands with — and Spencer sipped at it while her mind wandered off elsewhere from where she was. As her eyes closed, she saw Melissa's teary face in the dark, so when Spencer brought the glass down, her face was ashen.

"Okay, don't push him Toby," Hanna yapped at the boy beside Spencer, diagonal to the blonde. "When I feel like Caleb's relaxed enough—" an deep inhale of breath came from Hanna and she suggested, "I'll tap you on the foot and that's the heads-up that I'm gonna change the subject."

Coolly, Toby advised, "Don't make such a big deal out of this, Hanna."

"It is a big deal," Hanna pushed, her voice raised and passionate.

"Okay," Toby said. Sensing the unnatural quiet sounding from his girlfriend, Toby turned to her. He took note of her head down, her absent and unfocused stare, and he asked, "Are you all right?

Snapped back to reality — not the worrying memory of that video — Spencer lifted her head to him. She realised he was talking to her, so attempted to seem put-together. "Yeah," she said, small. "Sure." Turning away, her eyes caught onto the door to The Grille, saw Caleb walking in and nodded towards it, alerting the table to him.

Briefly, Caleb spoke to the waitress at the front. It gave Hanna the perfect about of time to says, "Okay, he's coming, just play dumb."

Spencer lightly said, "Hanna."

"He knows what I'm talking about," dismissed Hanna swiftly, just as Caleb approached them. At it, Hanna rose. She greeted her boyfriend with a smile and a quick peck. After, Toby stood up.

Caleb looked to him. "Hey."

"Hey," Toby returned. The two guys brought their hands together with a slapping noise, Then, they went in to give each other a casual bro-hug. "So, uh—" Toby wasted no time, "Hanna says you're having trouble sleeping, what's the deal with that?"

In an instant, Caleb was miffed. He faced away from Toby, gaze catching an alarmed Hanna, who gawked at Toby and then Spencer.

On the spot, and just as shocked, Spencer reacted to her friends imploring look and said, "Don't look at me. This must be how boys communicate."

It hadn't taken long for Caleb to piece it together —that he was being set up — that this was for him; and they had all been talking about it. "Okay, what is it?"

"She's worried about you." Toby kept his tone gentle, trying to kindly coax Caleb in. "So is Spencer and to tell you the truth, me too." He said, "I haven't seen you in ages, Caleb, you're never there anymore."

Caleb demanded, "Who died and made you Oprah?"

"So, there is something wrong," Toby safely concluded. At the prying insinuation, Caleb gave up. His back was to them, ready to leave, when Toby jumped in with the only reason that could still their friend. "Caleb, Hanna's scared."

It worked. Like Toby suspected, Caleb stopped. He faced them again. A firm sense of responsibility hit him in the chest.

Toby continued, "If you walk away, she's still gonna be afraid. Do you want things to stay like that?"

Caleb, hesitating, unable to move, realised he didn't. His stare flickered to Hanna, seeing now how riddled his girlfriend was with concern — and fear. When he spied the latter, Caleb gave himself no choice other than to cave. He did it for Hanna. So, he walked back to them.

Due to the influence Toby had, the girls left him alone with Caleb at the table. Neither Hanna nor Spencer exited the restaurant, but they sat across it while the boys stayed at their prior table. They were opposite each other, head-on; it was tense, uncomfortable at the pry into Caleb's personal life.

"I don't know what you expect me to say here," Caleb put out first. "There's not much to say, not that you're disagree with anyway."

"Try me," Toby half-challenged.

"It's human nature," Caleb attempted to dismiss it. "You go around this town tonight, with all the media attention and this fake kidnapper, ask any guy and they'll tell you they wouldn't sleep either if they knew what was out there."

"What is out there?" asked Toby. "Because we both know that's not real."

"Come on, Toby, don't play dumb," Caleb said, pushing in disbelief at how casual the boy opposite was. "You know this better than I do." He went on to mock, "But you just got yourself a badge and gun and you suddenly feel safer. I don't," said Caleb sharply. "That doesn't work for me."

"Are you dealing with the thing that's ruining your sleep?" Toby waved his hand as he said, "Cure the problems, symptoms go away."

"I can't just cure this problem," Caleb snapped at him. "I've been trying to for two years and it won't go away. You cut off a head and three grow back in its place." He surged forward, pressing harshly, "This is A, Toby, it's Alison."

Calmly, Toby coached, "We all have Alison in our lives, Caleb, but we're dealing with it."

Outrage caused Caleb to snap further. "Dealing with it?" He scoffed and began to rave, "Hanna's eating disorder came back, Aria turned on her and blamed her for something that wasn't her fault — Yeah, she apologised, but it was still crap. Halle's terrified all the time, Spencer relapsed not two weeks ago, and Emily came to me for help because I'm the only one who can help. They all need my help and I need to help them otherwise what's the point? If I can't save them—"

Toby cut in, "You can't save them on your own."

"I have to try!" yelled Caleb. Eyes all around the restaurant looked towards him, including Hanna's and Spencer's, who were hanging on the edge of their seats.

However, Toby kept his cool. He said, "You're not that scared of A that you'd rather lose sleep, you're not so scared of A that you'd push Hanna away for it. We've done this before, we've been there."

"No, before — with Mona, no, that crap was a tourist spot," explained Caleb out of frustration. "This is hell and we're living in it. If you can't see that, then what's the point of this conversation, Toby?" His finger jabbed down at the surface of the table while she spoke, harder in tone, "You know what we're up against and you're sitting here wondering why I'm not sleeping. Why I'm too busy on my laptop trying to find this person, trying to find a way to pin-point where A is, creating a programme that'll let me know when the same cell-towers are used for reroute a text, why I'm sat up in the middle of the night with a baseball bat because I'm terrified A's gonna attack Hanna — again." Caleb held his chin high and bragged poorly, "I'm doing something about it."

While Toby felt the immense worry that came with loving Spencer — with caring about the liars — he couldn't stop it from outpouring in a way that still cautioned Caleb. Heart-felt, Toby said, "You're scaring Hanna."

It served only to anger Caleb. His eyes darkened. "You are crossing a very serious line right now."

"She set this up because she's scared, Caleb," Toby tried to reason better. "She came to Spencer and Spencer came to me—"

"Well, she shouldn't have," Caleb hotly interrupted. "The only reason I'm not sleeping is because there's too much to do to keep them safe, and I'm doing it, Toby." He turned it on Toby — harsh, critical, annoyed. "What are you doing? Training in the academy, for what?"

"To keep them safe," answered Toby truthfully. "Like you're doing."

"No, because when you join up, you're one of them, not one of us," Caleb criticised greatly. He valued Toby less than — a hindrance to their plan of getting close to A and catching them — and dished up severe scrutiny of him. "You're choosing your side and not it's not with us." Scoffing, Caleb said, "I should have kept walking."

He rose from the chair and this time, Caleb did leave. Swiftly, Hanna was up and chasing after him while Toby hung his head in his hands, churning over the exact words Caleb said and how Toby had made his choice. With a glance up at Spencer, a sympathetic smile and half-glazed on her face, Toby knew he would agree to anything — do anything — to protect her; to keep her safe. Every time, Spencer was Toby's choice.

•

The beige and floral sheets were the same. Still scratchy, still durable, still comfortable enough to have Halle staying within them. They rested against Halle's skin, which was aglow with the rich yellow light from the beside lamp. She smiled up at Jason, her head rested on his chest as she laid on her stomach, nestled up to him.

"Is it weird if I say I've missed this room?" she asked him with a light laugh as they basked in 1-1-6.

Jason matched her. "For sure it's weird," he said. "It's a motel, Hal, you shouldn't miss it."

"Well, there's a lot that happened here," Halle mentioned.

"There's a lot that happened here five minutes ago," Jason joked, and Halle jabbed her hand to his chest. He laughed aloud, "What? We're literally sneaking here for one reason."

"We wouldn't be if you kicked your dad out of your house," Halle said. Firmly, she reminded him, "It is your home, not his."

"Yeah, but it's not right asserting that over him," Jason said. "Not right now. He raised us for seven years there, I can't just forget that when he's there. And it looks how it looks."

A sigh escaped Halle, her head rotating so that the side of her head touched his chest. "It's still so strange," she admitted. "I walk in that house now and it's like I've stepped through a time-machine."

"You should try living there," Jason countered with a bristle.

"Uh, yeah, pass," Halle claimed. Her eyes flitted up to him, a smile gracing her face as it pressed to his warm skin.

"So—" Jason settled his arm around her, pulling her closer although she was lying on top of him, getting more comfortable with Halle. "You wanna tell me about Holbrook?"

"I think he's digging. I mean, they both are," Halle said, tracing her index finger up and down his peck. Her touch was feather-light, barely skimming him. "Tanner asked us today who we think killed Faith."

He cocked an eyebrow up at her. "Faith?"

Halle rolled her eyes and explained, "Bethany Young."

"Right, yeah." Jason nodded along, now understanding. "Faith is Bethany," he said. "Before you guys knew who was dead."

Rather glumly, Halle expressed, "Yeah, well, calling her the dead girl was nasty."

"Oh, look at you," Jason lightly jested, "you have a heart, Brewster, who knew?"

"You," Halle said. She moved her head up so that she was facing him again. "Considering you harassed me for two years."

"Harassed?" Jason let out something mixed between a scoff and a boisterous chuckle, "I think you mean went for what I wanted and won you over."

"No, I'm good with harassed," Halle said, her cheeks full as she smiled.

"Oh, really?" A glint of mischief glazed over him. It was there for a second, just detectable by Halle before he moved his hand up her side to tickle her ribs.

"No!" Halle screamed out with a rowdy laugh. " o, no, stop. Stop!" she squealed, her body jolting forward as he kept up with the playful torture. "Okay—okay—I get it! I get it, stop. Jason!" she laughed. "Stop, st—"

"Fine, fine, I'll stop," he said. His hand ceased and was held up for her to see like he defended his innocence while smirking down at her. Jason saw Halle relax for a beat, then he threatened to go for it again.

"Jason, I swear to—"

"I'm just messing with you," he laughed, and dropped it. "Besides—" Jason used the same hand that had just been tickling her side to moved her curls from her face, his thumb lovingly caressing her check, "it's nice to see you smiling," said Jason. "I think you get too serious sometimes. You're too in there," he admitted, his palm cupped the side of her face as he referred to her head — her mind.

Her smile turned softer, more sensitive. "Well, that happens when you're type two."

"No," Jason wholeheartedly disagreed, "that happens when you've got a sociopath who wants to hurt you after you and the cops who think you're guilty of everything."

"Not everything," chimed Halle wryly. She mocked them, "They solved A, don't you remember? A is Fitz and Fitz is dead, so no more big bad, right?" She dipped her gaze. "Wrong." The lurching feeling within her stomach from earlier hadn't been lost. Her words seemed to follow her around. She made the grievous mistake of testing Tanner, and Tanner sent Holbrook after Halle. They were looking at her. They were looking at all of them. Halle couldn't bear the thought of something terrible happening because she was too reckless and couldn't, for once, shut her big mouth.

"Tell me what's going on up there." Jason's expression was gentle, sweet with Halle. He held her carefully. His thumb still graced across her right cheekbone. "Be honest with me."

Halle tried to joke it off, "I thought you said I was too serious."

His face was even at that. "This is serious."

"You really wanna know?" she asked, and Jason gave a nod.

He returned, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"I—" Halle opened her mouth, too many thoughts zooming around her head. Her brain was hot-wired, over-heating and pulsating with every worry. She swore her mind would break soon. Maybe that was what A wanted. "I feel like there's always something else coming at us I can't see, or stop," Halle confessed quietly. Her voice was soft, whispering almost. What she said ghosted over her lips, falling out into a puddle of mass anxiety and dread. "This whole thing — A, Fitz, Red Coat, whoever the hell is after us now — it's only gotten worse. That means something else is coming, doesn't it?" Halle explained openly, "I can't shake that feeling that something bad is gonna happen."

"It can't get any worse," Jason attempted to reassure.

"That's not true," Halle replied, her head giving a soft shake. "I mean, that fire at the lodge — that wasn't A. Yeah, A wanted us there but to kill us in a fire? No." She posed to him, "'Cos why would A gather us there to burn us alive? It doesn't add up. That ain't A's endgame."

With a shrug, Jason suspected, "Maybe it was, maybe A wanted to end."

"Like that?" Halle questioned him firmly. "When they knew by time we got to town, Wilden's cop car was in front of the church and he was already dead, no. A was setting more up that night, but they didn't wanna kill us," she said. "Not when they can punish us more. Not when A could trap us. A wants us to go down for everything — for everything that's happened since That Night."

Jason's eyes swept over Halle's tortured features. His blissful ignorance had vanished. His want to reassure her that A couldn't do worse was gone. Jason didn't have it in him to convince Halle the worst wasn't coming when he could see it so blatantly set in his lover's mind. It wounded his heart to see her so fretted, and Jason stopped entertaining an outcome he also knew deep down wasn't viable to them. "You're really that scared something bad's gonna happen?"

Her eyes were instantly glassy when Halle eventually said, "I think I'm just scared... all the time."

Sitting up straighter, Jason cupped her face with both hand and vowed to her strongly, "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

It felt like an insult to Halle. She tried to remove his touch from her and pull away. "You can't promise me that. Please don't jinx it."

Jason didn't allow Halle to leave. He tried harder for her. Pressed deeper to get her to stay — stay with him. His hands found her face again, settling when he looked directly into those pretty, brown eyes of hers. He held her gaze, unflinching and loyal, refusing to show anything more than the steady ground he planned to rebuild them on. "Do you remember in Cape May?" That was the start of it, he promised. That summer was perfect. Neither of them could deny it. Jason said, "I told you I wouldn't let us ruin it."

"But we did," Halle brought up tearfully. "We really did ruin it."

"For a second, for a blip," Jason promised through glistening, green eyes and a pleading smile. "But we're here now, together. We didn't ruin it. This is the same." He said, "I love you, Halle, that's the same."

Her bottom of her lip gave a small quiver. "You promise? You can promise me that?"

"I promise you, me loving you will always stay like this," Jason told her. "Us in this motel room. It's you and me forever. We'll always feel it, and it'll always feel the same."

"... Okay."

The smile she gave him was weak but genuine. Halle felt her breathing ease; her chest released as she rested against Jason. She tightened her arms around him, hugging him closer and allowed the peace to enter when Jason a kiss was planted to her head.

"Well, if this is the same, I'm just gonna enjoy it," she said, nestling in closer. Her arms hugged him more. "I'm gonna stay here forever."

"With me, or on my chest?" Jason asked, jesting lightly.

Her lips quirked up into a smile. "On your chest, I think." Halle rolled her head up so she could meet his loving stare. "With you as well," she said, her smile pulling into a cheeky smirk. "The abs are just an added bonus."

Jason's grin broke out across his face, lighting up with amusement. "Now," he began, "if I bring up your ass keeping me here, I'm a perv."

"Oh, yeah, that's total cave-man behaviour," Halle agreed, crinkling up her nose. "Ew."

She giggled after. Her small, childish laugh caused Jason's breath to hitch. His heart skipped a beat, seeing her so carefree within moments from tension, and Jason felt him chest swell. Then came the ache. The limited space, the slither he held onto, that Halle hadn't taken up because it wasn't entirely hers yet, weighed heavy suddenly. He wanted to share it with her. He wanted to tell her so much, but Jason withheld for some reason bigger than him.

Yet, Jason knew one thing out of all the torment and pain, and it left him easily. "I love you."

Halle's eyes lit up, sparkling bright for him. "I love you, too." She said, "And thank you."

"For what?" he naturally wondered.

"Being you," Halle returned just as easy as Jason had expressed his love for her.  "Being perfect. Being so goddamn patient with me," Halle elaborated. She was smiling up at him affectionately. "I swear, you're a saint."

There was that ache again. "I'm..." His eyes diverted from her. "I'm not a saint," refused Jason. "I'm hardly a good person, Halle, I'm just—"

"Why don't you think you're a good person?" Halle instantly cut in. Her voice was firm, filled with strength to argue against any insecurity he battled. "Jason, you're one of the best people I know. And I know you've got your demons and your things you've gotta work on every day to be a better you, but so has everybody else. You ain't alone in that," she said. "You're not a bad guy. In fact, you're a pretty decent guy. You're my my favourite guy... My favourite person," she confessed, a sweetness lingering behind her words.

Jason couldn't push the anxiety away. "I've let people down—"

"So have I—"

"—I've let you down," Jason said. Her interrupted her swiftly, no hesitation there, and Halle was silenced. The truth was spoken openly. Neither of them could deny what he said. Halle recalled the heartbreak that cursed her heart for weeks; the blade in her chest and the fleshy, bruised parts that grew around it after she tried to removed it, but Jason always remained. "Halle, I need to tell you—"

He was cut off by a phone ringing. It split the motel room, slicing the conversation. "I'm—" Halle frantically moved to turn it off, "sorry," she said. "It's probably my mom asking when I'm home and—Oh." Halle's face fell when her stare connected with the screen.

"Oh, what?" Jason asked curiously.

"It's Spencer," Halle answered. Her eyes lifted. "Aria text, too."

SOS

•

After hours at The Brew was quiet. It was empty, bar Emily and now Caleb. The two sat at one of the high tables, on stools, as a tried Caleb talked her through what he knew. Fresh coffees perched to the side, along with one of the unsold pastries from today, and Caleb began to explain what he had discovered. Her referred down at the photograph that Emily had given him the night before.

"This photo was taken sixteen months ago at a branch off the Turnpike, near Donegal," he said. "You can tell by the code that's in the time stamp." Pointing it out, Caleb made it easier for Emily to follow. "If you have that code, you can also find some other interesting images."

One by one, Caleb revealed them to her. From the exact same time stamp, another photograph showed more of Alison's face as well; a grainy, blurred section of white hair was on the far side. The second one had a clear shot of the person that Alison was with.

"Cyrus Petrillo," Emily stated, having known his face well.

"Mm-hm," Caleb hummed. He slapped down copies of police reports from several states. "Also know as Cyrus Hart, Robert Hart and Cy Enfield. None of them solid citizens, he's been arrested half a dozen times." He pointed out, "You have to know where to look, but it's all petty stuff — no convictions."

"Until now," Emily reminded dryly. She admitted, "Alison said that she and Cyrus used to run scams on people, with him and another girl."

"Yeah, how does a guy go from petty theft to kidnapping?" posed Caleb, perplexed by how far this had gone. "Or fake kidnapping."

Partially astounded by all she had learnt — or was learning — Emily inspected the images closer. "I wonder what she promised him to get him to confess," she spoke.

His brows lifted, Caleb mentioned, "You guys all seem to think the same thing."

Emily commented, "It makes sense if you knew her the way we did. It all makes sense." A deep sense of melancholy snuck in. With a frown, eyes still loitering sadly on the shot of Alison's face, she added, "At least the way Ali thinks. She has an amazing gift for know just what a person wants, what they're missing."

"It's a very special talent, one that causes a lot of damage," Caleb depressingly said.

Her gentle gaze fell to him. Emily could tell it went deeper for Caleb, just as deep as it wound constrictively around Emily. It was personal, Emily could tell, so she lifted her voice kindly, "Hey, how's Hanna doing? Is she...?"

"Her ED?" Shaking his head, Caleb answered, "Better. Not recovered."

"She never will be," Emily replied. "It's always gonna be there." She watched while the hate twisted upon Caleb's features; how it tightened. Emily softened entirely. "Caleb, you do realise, as much as I appreciate you doing this, how great it is that you can because I wouldn't— I wouldn't even know where to start — that you can't save Hanna," she honestly told him. "You can't protect her from everything A does to her now, even if you're by her side through it all. But these problems she has, they were put there before A," concluded Emily very carefully. "Before all this. It's who Hanna is."

"And Alison made her like that," Caleb challenged strongly. "She was just a sad girl who... who ate her feelings.  And yeah, it's not great, and she needed more help than her parents shipping her off to fat camp, but Alison made it worse. She came along and forced— forced that on her," Caleb raged, scorned like it was happening to him. It hurt him. It crushed him. He couldn't save her. "And she had no help. Her dad encouraged it, teasing her for her weight the way Alison did. Her mom didn't know what to do, and you guys didn't—" Caleb stopped himself. He shut up, refusing to go too far.

Yet, Emily knew what he wanted to say. The guilt warped her. It sat heavy on her chest like it had done for years. All of them — all four of Hanna's friends — had apologised for their silence throughout the torment; had made a firm promise to Hanna at that cabin of Ezra's that they would always defend her, but the guilt for the years past never left them. "You can say it," Emily whispered. "None of us stopped her. None of us stood up to Alison. None of us stood up for Hanna when we really should've. We let her bully Hanna, tear her down. Tear her to pieces, really. And we let it happen because we didn't want it to happen to us. None of the compliments we ever gave Hanna ever made up for the the comments Alison made." It shredded Emily apart, and she confessed, "I wasn't even there for her this time. I made the same mistake. I got so caught up in Alison, I lost sight of my real friends, and I left her down again."

Understandingly, Caleb gave a shot nod. "Hanna didn't." He said, "Hanna didn't lose sight of any of you."

"She never does," Emily replied, truth on her tongue. "But, Caleb, this goes deeper than this." Focused on the dark bags under Caleb's eyes, the tiredness etched across his distraught face, Emily remained strong. "You have to know, you can't wrap her up in bubble-wrap," Emily said. "You can't treat her like she's never gonna be broken. You were both broken when you found each other, that's why you work — because you get her. You get Hanna in way none of us ever could." She pressed at him sweetly, "Don't lose her because you're scared of losing her to A."

"I'm not just scared, Emily," Caleb returned truthfully. "I'm terrified."

Emily placed her hand over his and urged him on. "Then, tell her."

So Caleb did.

When her arrived at the cabin, out by Torch Lake, a light was on inside. As soon as Caleb pulled up, he knew it was Hanna. She had called him a handful of times, all of which he sent to voicemail, so he was acutely aware she was after finding him. Shutting of the engine, Caleb tried to also silence the thumping of his loud heart with the engine. It hadn't worked. His heart was pounding; practically trying to jump out of his skin because he was so scared to open up.

He didn't know why. He had told Hanna stuff that he had told no other person. Yet, this was different. How was Caleb supposed to tell Hanna that she was the problem? That she was a huge part of it? Everything he did was for her and he couldn't protect her. That was his issue. That was what he had to say — to unload onto her — and it made him sick.

Like Caleb expected, when her entered, she was there in the living room. His stare connected with her instantly while she sat in the armchair, waiting for him to show up. "Hey," he said.

"Hey." Hanna denied him any of her lightness while she spoke. She was hardened, aggravated and in despair over him walking off from dinner. "Where'd you go? I tried calling but—"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I should've answered," said Caleb, dwelling in sincere remorse. He rubbed his swollen, dark eyes. "I was with Emily."

"About the thing she came to you about yesterday," she easily gathered.

"Yeah."

Despite her disinterest, Hanna still asked, "You figure that out?"

"Yeah, we got somewhere," he answered, his voice small.

"Good, I'm glad," Hanna said in a way that revealed she very well wasn't. "Because we haven't here."

At that, Caleb couldn't help the surge of annoyance that rose up. First, he chose to defend himself, "You had no right to pull some stupid invention on me."

"Well—" Hanna stood with a long sigh, "You're right about that. So I came here to apologise.," she said. Her tone switched up fast. This time, she expressed her extreme irritation at him, lashing out firmer. "But that was an hour ago and I change my mind waiting for you to show up, wondering where you were and thinking the absolute worst, that you were wrapped around a tree because you haven't been sleeping and decided to drive—"

"It's a couple of days without sleep, Hanna," Caleb fought, "I can take care of myself."

Yelling, Hanna said, "No, you can't!"

His eyes flashed towards her, angry. "What?!"

"I said, no, you can't." Her repetition soon turned to begging him. Hanna pleaded with him to see what she did — what their friends were waking up to notice also. "You think you can and usually you can, but this time you're wrong and you know it." Beginning to tear up, Hanna lowered her voice. Shouting wouldn't help her now. "Caleb, I will fight for you, but you have to trust me," she said. "If we don't trust each other, then... I might as well walk out that door because what's the point?"

In an instance, Caleb thought of all Emily said. All the things she said about how Caleb couldn't save Hanna every time; that he couldn't wrap her up in bubble-wrap when someone was persistently trying to tear her down. He couldn't do it, and Caleb felt that as a stab to his ego. To him as a man. As a protector. As Hanna's boyfriend. His eyes welled up. They filled briskly, and Caleb tossed out his hand in pathetic gesture. "I can't— I can't protect you, Hanna," he said like it made him the weakest person to walk the earth, like he had never let her down so severely before. "I can't protect you and I hate that I can't do that for you."

It softened her wholly. Her features melted as she faced him with a softness Caleb had only ever experienced from her. "That's why you haven't been sleeping?" she asked. "Because of me?"

He hated it. He hated himself for making her ask that question, but he remained honest. "It's hard to sleep when there's so much I can do, when A's literally at our doorstep," he argued. "I can't lose you."

Hanna promised him, "You're not going to."

"No—" Caleb was shaking his head, "A will take you away from me." He challenged, "We don't know what they have planned and I need to catch up. And I can't— I can't catch up quick enough," he said, bursting with self-frustration.

"You?" Hanna told him, "This is not just on you."

"But I'm the only one who can hack or has any skill at computers, that can give A a run for their money technology speaking," Caleb excused, as he piled more responsibility onto his already-caving shoulders. He drove himself crazy over it. "I keep thinking if I can pin-point one to the towers, create a programme that will send me an alert whenever the same series of cell-towers A's using to reroute, then I can pin them down."

"I can save you the time, Caleb." Flatly, Hanna said, "Rosewood. A is in Rosewood."

Against it, he fought more, "But I can get a location better than that—"

"I'm not asking you to do that," Hanna cut in.

"I know, but I can do that—"

Swiftly, and strongly, Hanna said, "I don't want you to. I don't want you hurting yourself to keep me save. I need you." She crossed the cosy living room to get to him, grasping at one of his hands before she hugged it closer to her chest. "I need you, Caleb. I need us," she said.

While he admittedly calmed him to be near her, Caleb pushed back, "This isn't a game, Hanna. I don't wanna gamble at this, I wanna be sure I'd done everything I could have." He swore, "I have to keep you safe."

"And that's why you can't sleep," she concluded sadly.

"I can sleep. It's just..." Caleb looked down, hiding his fears from her. "I'm afraid of what will happen if I do go to sleep. I'm afraid of my dreams."

Hanna asked, "Why?"

"Because every time I close my eyes," Caleb started, "I think of you and of you getting hurt because I didn't do enough. You get hurt because of me, Hanna." He told her, "In my dreams, you get hurt and I lose you, and it's my fault."

This time, Hanna went to hum and cupped his face. She held him up, keeping her soft stare locked on his. "You won't lose me," he vowed to him. "We'll get through this, Caleb. I didn't come this far not to have a happy ending," she said gently, and then she kissed him. Their mouths met in a tender kiss, comforted and reassured that they were going to be okay. They had each other. That was the one thing the couple weren't ever going to let A take away from them.

•

SOS
From: Aria

Due to it, four of the five liars met in Spencer's bedroom. Hanna had to answer or show, but that wasn't the concern. Freaking out, Aria spilled to her friends what she had overheard Lieutenant Tanner inform her father causing Aria to frantically reach out and panic now.

One of them — one of the six girls — was talking to the police.

Emily insisted, "I'm not talking to Tanner."

"Neither am I," replied a strong Spencer.

"Ditto," Halle agreed. "I mean, Holbrook tried to play friendly, but I shook him off."

"When?" Emily asked.

"Outside The Brew, tonight," Halle answered. "Either way, he made no hint any of us were talking."

With her arms crossed defensively, Aria implored, "Well, I didn't think it was you guys."

Questioning, Emily pried, "Where's Hanna?"

"I called all of you," answered Spencer, "but her phone went to voicemail—"

"It's not Hanna." It left Aria immediately. There wasn't an inch of room to potentially argue with where Aria's mind was firmly set. Anxiously, she chewed at her bottom lip, unable to say it aloud.

Spencer realise, "Oh, my god." Out of annoyance, she harshly slapped her thighs. "Alison."

"Maybe we can stop her," suggested Emily in mild panic.

As Emily went to her her handbag, Aria asked, "How?"

Without speaking, Emily had fetched out an image. It was one of the ones she had seen tonight, just a measly hour ago, and now she was showing it to her friends. Unfolding it, Emily revealed to them the CCTV photograph of Alison with Cyrus Petrillo, dated stamped during the time she was supposedly kidnapped.

Her eyes grew large. Gobsmacked, Spencer said, "Where did you get this?"

"Caleb," Emily stated, as the three took in the image that Emily already had poured over. "It was taken from the same security camera that got Ali, the same Noel had," she expanded. "Caleb figured it out in one night."

Halle lifted her gaze. "You showed the other photo to Caleb?"

Incredulously, Emily posed, "Who else was gonna help us?"

"Wait, guys—" Aria zeroed down at the image, "what's this? In the corner," she elaborated.

The four closed in, and Emily said, "I think it's just some movement."

"No," Spencer said. "That's a person. That's hair."

"There's a third person?" Halle questioned deeply. "Another blonde?" she asked, squinting down at the whitish glaze to the far right of the photograph.

Emily gapsed, "Oh, my god."

"What?" Halle's eyes snapped up.

"Alison said there were three of them," Emily confessed greatly. "There was three of them that used to run scams together. Her, Cyrus and this other girl. Ali said she wanted out, Cyrus turned on her."

"Why did she want out?" Spencer asked.

"Because..." Emily dropped her gaze. "Because someone got stabbed. One of their scams went wrong," she said.

"So—" Taking her time to soak it all in, Halle suspected, "either this other girl can bring Alison down, or... she could be the one who was stabbed."

"And that's what Alison has on Cyrus," Aria gathered. "She's blackmailing him."

Shaking her head, Emily said, "Alison didn't say anything else. She tells you just enough to make you stop asking questions."

"Hold up—" Halle's brows furrowed, a crease appearing between them, "if he killed a girl, why ain't Alison scared of him?"

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"I mean, I ain't reaching out to a known-murderer to lie for me," Halle shared truthfully. "Why the hell would I trust him if I knew he did that? Or could do that to me?"

"Who cares," Aria expressed, focusing on their advantage, "theses photos are the end of Ali's kidnap story if we use them."

"Maybe," responded Emily, miffed. She pressed her lips together and folded her arms. "Depends on what 'truth' she decides to tell this time."

"Either way, it's leverage over her," Halle put, eyes skimming over Aria, her partner-in-crime. "I'm good with that."

Aria agreed, "Me too."

A guilty look twisted across Spencer's face. She glanced around at her friends, no longer in the absent head-space she was earlier, but practically torn apart and cinching herself together poorly. She couldn't hold it in — keep in locked away to herself. She needed to share this. Spencer was certain she couldn't be the only one with a secret of this magnitude.

"I have to show you guys something," Spencer announced. As she turned to grab her laptop from her desk, she apologised, "I'm sorry, I can't wait for Hanna." Planting the device down at the foot of her bed, Spencer opened the lid, loaded up the video and hit play so those three could share the same destruction that Spencer had currently.

They were surprised when Melissa appeared on the video, taking a seat directly into of the camera. It was an address. A big deal for Melissa as she settled in and let out a long, drawn out sigh. She cleared her throat then looked ahead, her face ashen with the secret weighing heavy on her chest.

"Spencer..." She exhaled a big breath bracingly. "You're right," she said. "I have to tell you the truth before it's too late. Dad's taking me to the airport. I'm going back to England. He's been wanting me to go back since I told him what I told him in the police station the night you were gone. Maybe dad's right and there's nothing to do but keep quiet. But I can't just leave you." Melissa's voice gave a slight wobble, a sense of deep failure cracking through. "Not again. Not like this," she said. "So I'm gonna tell you the truth and you can do whatever you want with it." Melissa offered out, "Maybe it'll help you, maybe it won't, but at least you'll know."

"I saw you the night Alison disappeared," Melissa revealed, and their hearts dropped the same way Spencer's had the first time she watched the video. "I was looking for her, too. And I heard you fighting with her over the pills and I saw you. I saw you with a shovel in your hand. I went after Alison because of it. I found her in the yard and I told her to stay away from you. To stay away from all of us, and if she dared tell anyone about the pills, I would..." Melissa dipped her voice in shame, "I would shove the whole bottle of them down her throat and frame it as an accident." Shaking her head, she said, "I knew it was wrong, and looking back on it, it felt like everyone who ever made the mistake of touching Ali was there that night. I was just one of them." She recalled, "What's that line from The Tempest?" An air of longing came to her. "This island is full of noises."

"I made the mistake of calling Wilden That Night, after I had seen Alison," Melissa told them indirectly. "We were close That Summer, while Ian I were on a break, when I spent that time in Cape May after the break-up. I called him for his help to get back the videos, but he ignored me all night," she admitted. "Then you came and woke us up the next morning saying Alison was missing," Melissa confessed, and the girls felt their worlds crash into Spencer's already-imploding one. "I thought you had gone back and killed Alison with that shovel." Tears glistened in her eyes while she torn herself up. "Now I'm not sure what happened. But standing there, with all the police coming in and out of our house and next door's, that's what I thought, and I didn't want anybody to know what I thought you had done," she said heartbreakingly. "Wilden was there the next day and he knew something I didn't, just like I thought I knew something he didn't. I managed to ignore him for a whole year, up until they found Alison. I didn't tell anybody about That night. Or what I thought you did." She sniffled, "Now I know it wasn't Alison. And she wasn't dead when someone buried her. She was a stranger and somebody killed her, and I kept my mouth shut because I thought I was protecting you."

There was another loud, wet sniffle. "Our family has a gift of self-preservation," she said. "But there's a point when you go from survivor to predator. And I guess that's what happened to us. Or me," she explained, just as tears slipped from her cheeks. "I hated you for what I thought you had done, and I wasn't the only one who thought you had done it, too. Wilden did."

The sludge caked her boots. Melissa chose wisely to wear Ian's old walking boots to go meet Wilden by the lake after scouting the area the night before while it rained. She knew the mud would be deep and thick and the shoes she'd wear would sink. Wanting no ties to the scene, Melissa chose a dead man's boots so she'd never be attached to the area.

"I thought you were bringing me a confession," Wilden spoke, as Melissa joined him on the muddy bank. His cop cruiser was behind him, drenched after days at the bottom of the lake.

"Your confession is busy tonight," Melissa replied. "But it'll be a false one," she said. "Spencer didn't kill Alison."

"I know one of them did it," Wilden argued fiercely. "It was your sister or one of her little friends. Or maybe it was all of them. Either way, there's an affidavit landing on the DA's desk tomorrow morning accusing them of murdering Alison DiLaurentis."

"You don't know, do you?" Melissa presented herself in front of him and said, "Alison's not the girl in that grave. Spencer didn't kill Alison because Alison's alive."She told him, "Alison was blackmailing both Ian and Garrett for money. They were paying it to PO box in the city. I followed the trail and I saw her."

Sceptically, Wilden questioned her, "You saw Alison?"

"The night on the Halloween train, I saw a mask of her face, so I—"

"So, you saw a mask of her," Wilden abruptly cut in. He bristled, "I gotta say you're going to lengths to prove to me your sister didn't kill her."

"Spencer didn't kill anybody," Melissa pushed defensively. "She didn't hurt anybody."

"But you thought she did," Wilden said. "That's what started this whole mess, Melissa, you got me to look harder at those girls."

"That's never been true. I wanted you far away from my sister. You wanted to blame them from the start," she sat hotly. "And I was wrong, Spencer's innocent. They all are."

Wilden stifled a laugh. His eyes were dark. "The last thing any of those girls are is innocent. The whole town knows they're liars. They love the attention. They're sluts for it—"

A thunderous slap was heard. It rippled across the lake and shook the leaves from the tree. Melissa's stare was hardened, deadly. "You call my sister that again, and I'll go to the police with everything I know about Cape May That Summer, including the original copy of Alison on your boat. I took it, Wilden, did you forget th—"

Melissa couldn't finish her sentence before his hand was lodged around her throat. His grip locked tight, pressing and lifting. She choked as it tightened. Her hands clawed up at his, trying desperately to pry him from her. Melissa was gasping for air where he cut it off. Her eyes widened, startled and terrified. She started to hit him. Melissa fought and struggled, but Wilden's grip only clamped harder around her neck. He was killing her.

Without an escape, Melissa's panicked eyes shot down to the boots she wore. Her feet were much smaller and were slipping out of the shoes as Wilden lifted her up off the ground. She continued to fight him — to hit, kick, slap — but it was all to no avail. She only one option and that was to reach for the gun on his holster.

Bang.

Bang.

The three liars gasped, horrified at what they had just heard. Spencer had heard it again. It replayed in her head over and over, over and over. It destroyed her. It destroyed Melissa and all the fractured parts of their strained relationship.

"He was going to pin it on you," Melissa wept. "He was going to pin that girl's murder all on you so you'd go to jail, and I couldn't let that happen. He was taking it out on your personally, because you got him suspended. It wasn't about justice for him, it was about revenge. And I was protecting you, just like I always have been, since this all started." She wiped away a tear, and said, "I'm so sorry for ever thinking it could've been you, and I'm sorry to put this on you now. But you need to know. I want you to know that'll always protect you, Spencer, just like I did with that bully with the jump-rope, because you're my sister. I'd choose you. I chose you." Finally, her voice cracked, "Goodbye, Spencer. I love you."

Devastation winded them. The three subconsciously mirrored each other's actions: one arm over their stomach while the other reached up towards their mouths. Spencer watched the realisation unfold over their faces as she gently closed the laptop. She spoke into the silence. "I just got that today." She said, "It took me a while to decide whether or not to show it to you."

Lowering her hand from her collar, Emily sympathised, "Understood."

The horror was too much for Aria to conceal; she had to voice it or she'd think it was all in her head. "Melissa killed Detective Wilden."

"Because she thought you killed Bethany Young," Halle gradually followed.

"She thought that I killed her, yes," Spencer agreed. "And so did Wilden."

"She doesn't sound so sure of that now," Emily mentioned. "I mean, it sounds like Wilden just wanted to pin it on us and Melissa knew for some reason it wasn't us."

"But she killed him," Halle stated, aching at the reveal. "With Hanna's dad's gun?"

Spencer explained, "Hanna said Wilden took the gun from her mother. Melissa grabbed the one at his waist, she didn't know it wasn't his."

With a shaky breath, Aria sat down on the bed. "But if what Melissa said is true about the affidavit—"

"It is," Halle interrupted. She closed her eyes, aware of the stares on her, and recalled, "Wilden told me he had a meeting with DA about who he wanted arrested for killing Alison, he just died before that meeting happened."

"So the police could think that we all had something to do with this," Aria seriously put. "This, and what happened That Night to Bethany Young."

"How could they not?" Emily countered. "When they found Bethany, she was wearing Alison's clothes. The clothes we last saw her in."

"Another set of Alison's clothes," Spencer corrected. "There had to be a duplicate set, Ali wasn't walking around naked."

"Two duplicates." The other three looked to Halle after she spoke. She elaborated for them, "Jason remembers seeing CeCe That Night, she was in the same yellow top."

"CeCe never denied it was her," Emily said.

"Yeah, but Jason was stoned out of his mind, Emily," Aria challenged. "He thought he saw Alison first, then it was CeCe."

"But what if it was Alison he saw?" proposed Spencer logically. "Melissa's on tape admitting that she threatened Alison in the DiLaurentis backyard That Night — that's exactly what Jason saw."

"Apart from Alison never mentioned seeing Melissa when she told us about That Night in New York," Halle reasoned. "She told us every other interaction, but not that? No, the reason she never told us is because it never happened."

"It has to, Halle," Spencer argued profusely. "We have Melissa admitting to it. I know you love Jason and you wanna defend him — as well as hate on CeCe — but the likelihood is that Jason saw Melissa with Alison That Night, not CeCe." Spencer slung her arm out and said, "Either way, there was more than one yellow top."

"Wait—" Aria furrowed her brows as she implored Spencer, "are you saying it was always someone's idea that Bethany take Ali's place?"

Flatly, Spencer requested, "Tell me another way that Bethany ends up in that yellow top."

Absorbing all this, Emily advised, "We need to figure out a way around that picture of A at the hospital or we're busted."

Her friends looked to her in shock. They swelled with bewilderment, not able to pin-point the exact item Emily was discussing. "What picture of A?" Aria wondered, voicing that confusion.

Crossing her arms, Emily said, "Picture of Alison—"

"—No," Aria clarified for her, insisting, "you said a picture of A."

Slowly, out of slow realisation, Emily dropped her stance and said weakly, "No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did," confirmed Spencer, and Emily's bulging gaze snapped to her.

"Slip of the tongue," Emily then defended.

"Whichever it is," Halle inserted, "A or Alison, they both know more about what happened to Bethany That Night then we do. They ain't on our side."

After that was decided, Spencer yanked the USB from laptop and enclosed her fingers around it. She held it in her fist, feeling the weight of her sister's confession.

"Spencer—" Aria shuffled forward, eyeing it warily, "what are you gonna do with that?"

To it, Spencer had no answer. Melissa didn't either. Sure, Melissa gave her a suggestion, but it wasn't ever a real possibility that Spencer would turn it over to the cops. Perhaps that was why Melissa gave Spencer the truth finally; because Melissa knew her truth would become Spencer's secrets. It was passed down, sibling to sibling, sister to sister; lies were genetic. No one could ever escape family.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE
PLEASE STOP PLAGIARISING ME.
As some of you may know, the first book of this series "Good Liar" has been removed by wattpad for copyright of the tv show after a user copied my work and counter-claim the copyright report I submitted. I'm working on reuploading it at the same time as writing this, hopefully it'll be up sometime in the new year. If you want this series to continue like it is, if you are writing or thinking of writing your own PLL fanfic, don't plagiarise mine or others. It's not right that I've spent four years rewriting this series for another person to hit copy and paste. This is the fifth time — that I know of  — that someone else copied me, followed shortly the next day by a sixth which was more blatant and upsetting.
PLEASE STOP.

If you see any work that is relative to mine, can you please let me know so I can check it out. Don't submit a copyright report with Wattpad because of what happened; I don't trust this won't get taken down as well. Thank you. Sorry for my rant.

Also, please don't go looking for these previous users or bully them. I've spoken to them and it's sorted. Please don't send anyone hate on behalf of me, it's not what I stand for🫶🏽💗

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