•

"Taking This One To The Grave"

CHRISTMAS EVE

Outside the blue suburban house, beyond the Vanderwaal mailbox at the foot of the white picket fence, Hanna let out a loud sob. Her face was bright red, torn up as she wept hysterically into Emily's arms. They clung to each other tightly. Their teary eyes were fixed to the crimson stains of the blanket of disturbed snow. Cops flooded the scene; a yellow tape was drawn across the front yard while the media enclosed on the scene, as well as prying all the neighbours and nosing residents of their small town.

Tragedy had struck the town of Rosewood again, and this time, it broke the liars.

Halle, hanging on by a mere thread, had Aria at her side. The former was covered in blood. Her hands were bloody also. It was still wet under her fingernails; stuck her curls to her head; framed her white shirt with the hand-prints of where she wiped down her front. Positioned at the foot of the open door of an ambulance, an EMT inspected the point of impact. She pulled the gauze-pad from the right side of Halle's head and the EMT said, "You need stitches."

"I... need to stay here," responded a slow Halle, her jaw slack and mind fuzzy.

Aria spoke for her, "We're happy to go now, thanks."

Approaching the first half of the split group, Officer Maple cautiously said to the hugging pair, "I'll take your statement now, one at a time. Hanna, lets head over to the porch," he said. "You can walk me through this."

Profusely, Hanna shook her head. More tears fell violently. Her mouth overwhelmed with another traumatised sob. "No." She sucked in a sharp breath, dithering. "No, I–I– I can't go back up there, I don't wanna see that again."

A cop came over and tapped Officer Maple's shoulder. He took it as important — and that he was generous enough to give Hanna the time to compose herself — so Officer Maple retreated. At that, Hanna turned away and cried more furiously into Emily's chest. With no other solution, Emily pulled her closer to comfort Hanna.

Overlooking the hectic scene — Halle soaked with red, the police swarmed around the house, the media flagged down to record the tragedy, all side-lined by the sounds of Hanna's cries — Aria looked down at Halle. The EMT had gone to speak with an officer, to talk about getting Halle to hospital, when Aria whispered, "You saw all the blood in there, there's no way anyone could have lived through that."

Then, a chime. Aria's mobile went off first, then the others' followed. Reaching for hers while Halle couldn't, Aria pulled it out. At the series of tones, at the familiar sinking of their stomachs, the four liars circled around the foot of the ambulance. Emily also had her phone out, breathing heavily as she read it aloud, pained with immense guilt.

"'It's all your fault... A'."

•

THIRTY SIX HOURS EARLIER

Halle Brewster had never even known where Mona Vanderwaal lived yet alone stepped foot inside of the cosy, blue house. Now, she was there, waiting in Mona's living room with the infuriating information that Alison was snitching on them to the police. Mona's mother, Leona, who had been absolutely charmed by Hanna showing up, fetched Mona from upstairs and they both descended the staircase. Whereas her mother beamed, radiating at the idea of forgiveness in the air, Mona remained sceptical.

"Why the grim faces?" Mona glanced around, eyes focusing on each one of the liars at one point, and she asked, "Did somebody die?"

"Yeah, and she was buried in Alison's yard the summer she disappeared," Halle said, clipped.

At the bluntness, Mona was taken aback. Her surprise enthralled, even more so that all of them were there. It only added when Hanna followed it up.

"Mona, we need your help," said the blonde.

The request ticked Mona off slightly. She had offered her help countless times and had it thrown in her face when she did, and now they were here? They sought her out to her own home to demand it from her, and Mona knew she would willing give it just to make up for the horror she had caused them. With a brief glance over her shoulder, to make sure her mother wasn't listening, Mona switched up to her determined nature. "What did she do to you?"

"Nothing," Hanna said. "... Yet."

"It's what we think she's about to do," Aria added.

"We just found out that Ali's at the police station," Emily revealed. "She's talking to the cops."

Nodding along, Mona gathered with ease, "And you don't know what she's telling them."

After Spencer sucked in a breath, she said, "A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth gets the chance to put its pants on."

"Did Ali say that?" asked Hanna, confused.

Simultaneously, both Spencer and Mona answered, "No. Churchill did."

"Great," bit Halle sarcastically. "Another quotable racist."

"Look, we've been lying for Ali ever since she got back," Hanna expanded. "We need to know what story she's telling the cops."

"I understand why Halle isn't asking her," Mona mentioned first. "She's the only one of you with enough common sense not to trust Alison the moment she came back. But the rest of you..." She blew out a low breath. "So why not ask her?"

Emily said, "Because we don't believe she'll tell us the truth."

"She never has, not really," Halle replied.

Overlooking them, Mona asked, "And why do you think that I can help you?"

There was silence while the liars exchanged looks between each other. Then, after the question settled, Aria gave the simple answer, "Because you're Mona."

Moments later, once Mona accepted their answer, they were sitting in the living room. The liars sat down, uneasy in a house they didn't know outside of Hanna, as Mona hovered by the window. As she spoke, she looked out of it. "Alison stole my life from me when she crowned me Rosewood's biggest loser," she said. Turning away, Mona faced the liars and sighed, "And she was so convincing, even I started to believe her." After, when she was done with her self-pity, her arms folded across her chest.

Hanna questioned, "So that means you'll help us?"

"Look, I know I owe you guys for everything I've done to you," Mona began, and the liars' stares fell down to their laps. "But I'm already number one on her hit list." Apprehensively, she said, "If Alison finds out I'm siding with your guys, I'm afraid to think of how far she'd go to stop me."

Confidently, Halle declared, "That won't be an issue."

Mona's knitted her eyebrows together. "How won't it?"

"Because if you side with us in this, Mona, we side with you too," said Halle without even hesitating. Her confidence didn't fail when her friends' gazes snapped to her. "I told you back then, I'll tell you now — I'm not stupid either. I meant what I said that day. All of it," Halle said. "I'd choose you over Alison, and this lot will back me when I say once I've got your back, I've got it. I've fought her once, I can do it again."

Locking eyes with Halle, Mona couldn't help but sigh. Glumly, she responded, "Not even you can protect me from Alison if she wants me gone."

Zeroed in on the palpable fear on Mona's face, Spencer asked, "Are you really that scared of her?"

"Aren't you?" Mona swiftly returned. She paused when she met it — when they mirrored her fright far too closely then all dropped their faces. "Isn't that why you're here?"

Sweeping in, Mona's mother was practically grinning ear-to-ear. "I don't mean to interrupt your girl-talk, but I wanted to bring these out while they're still warm," she said, with a tray complete with cookies, a jug of water and cups. Leona Vanderwaal looked towards the one she knew best and said sweetly, "Hanna, is chocolate chip still your favourite?"

A smile crossed Hanna's lips. "So nice of you."

The destruction of a perfectly innocent friendship was displayed for Halle to see. Mona had harmed Hanna to the extent of trust was damned. However, the fault laid elsewhere. Mona was ill. She snapped. Her mind was abused horrifically, warped by the pages of a diary and game she had lost herself in. A was to blame. The idea of it. The game it played in the heads of all its victims, all the time, constantly, always setting them up to lose.

Politely, Emily said, "But we have to go."

Disappointed spread across Mona's mother. "Oh, I'll send some home with you. I'll be right back," she said, right before she left.

The liars started to awkwardly stand, gearing up to leave. Immediately, Mona turned to them. "Have you ever been so focused on something that it takes over everything else?" she asked. "Turns you into something that you're not?" She knew every single one of them had; so had she. "I took all of my Ali-anger out on you guys and... I'm sorry for that," Mona confessed most sincerely, and, in the quiet, the liars accepted it.

Again, the five went to move as an unit only one of them broke from the pack. Lingering, Hanna stayed behind. Spencer noticed first. "Han?"

Meekly, Hanna stated, "I'm waiting for the cookies."

With a nod, Halle understood. She peered at Mona and said, "Tell your Mom thanks for having us. I don't wanna be rude, my parents raised me better."

Now, having to wait for Hanna, the four remaining liars loitered in the foyer. In the space by the front door, open and homely, the walls covered in photographs of Mona throughout her life, they gathered to discuss what else itched at them.

"So, did you figure out what you're gonna do with your sister's going-away present?" Aria wondered, eyes lifted towards Spencer.

"Melissa sent me that video because she wanted me to know the truth," Spencer said, pushing out the defence of her older sister. "Her confession doesn't actually help any of us."

"She said it out loud," Emily argued. "She killed Wilden. She shot him to protect you."

"Yeah, to protect me, Emily," Spencer reminded her firmly. She repeated the words back at her friend in hope she'd understand better this time. "Because she thought that I was the one who hit Bethany, and Wilden was set to blame me for it."

"But you didn't," Aria offered her kindly. "We all know that, Spence."

"It doesn't matter," Spencer argued. "In Melissa's story, I'm an accessory to murder. That's the best case scenario for DA to wrap this up."

"Look—" Halle's stare travelled to Aria. "You do it for Mike, wouldn't you? Keep it secret?" She posed the same question to Emily next. "Em, you'd do that for your mom or dad?" They were silent, heads down in agreement, and Halle said, "We'd do anything to protect our families. That what Melissa was doing, as well as protecting us, so there's really no reason to do anything with that video. We should protect her, too."

Spencer looked to Halle, eyes soft and glassy. Her hand reached out to take Halle's, and with it, a small 'thank-you' passed her lips just as the rest of them agreed to a new secret. This one was theirs. Only theirs. Alison had no part of it.

Neither did A.

•

They hadn't had to wait long to know more. The very next morning, Mona summoned them to the girls bathroom on the last day before winter break. Having checked prior, the bathroom was empty. Mona and the liars were the only ones in there, all feeling the gaping hole in their stomachs from what Mona knew and they were about to.

"Alison volunteered to take the polygraph," Mona informed, her stood by her self while the five opposed her in a line.

Emily asked her, "How do you know that?"

"—She's Mona."

"—She's Mona."

Both Aria and Hanna answered identically at the very same time, overlapping one another. It was a stern statement, unwavering. Mona had golden knowledge — an oracle compared to them.

"After you left last night, I did some re-con," Mona said.

In mild disbelief, Spencer defended almost, "Alison would never put herself at risk unless she believed her story."

"Well, if you believe a lie, it becomes the truth," corrected Mona knowingly. She hinted further, "And why lie to yourself unless..."

"You did something so bad you don't wanna believe that you did it," Hanna finished for her old best friends clearly.

"Or you have something to gain," chimed in Halle. Her face was tight, unimpressed. "Let's not forget who this is we're talking about." Preaching, she said, "Alison has never once felt bad over something she did, even after she did it. She only started apologising this time because she needed us."

Wholeheartedly, Mona agreed, "Because she's playing a game." Her replied caused Halle's head to pick up. Their stares connected, and Halle knew that Mona thought the very same as she did. The pair shared every bad thought; it started with the explosion.

Aria stifled a scoff. For clarity, she questioned, "You think that Ali took the lie detector test for fun?"

"I think she took it because she's not having fun anymore," Mona told them truthfully. "She can't play with her dolls if you won't let her." Picking up on the glances the liars gave each other, them stiffening at the mention of them being dolls — the fact Mona reiterated that they were the dolls. Alison's dolls. "This is how she's ending the game," Mona decided.

Irritated, Hanna asked, "What game?

It dawned on Emily. Her eyes widened slightly, bulged when she realised that she knew. "The game," she repeated, more purposeful.

A fusion of anger and upset crossed Mona. "The one she stole from me."

Shock struck Aria, it become apparent the liars weren't the only ones with that thought. She asked, "You think that Alison's A? Not just making deals with them?"

Staying silent, Mona merely nodded. The air turned stale around them. Their stomachs clenched around nothing but the pit that gaped open, wider, more turbulent. Dread clawed out of the darkness, into the brightness of the girls' bathroom and acid coated it densely until it made them physically sick.

"We're not the only one having bad thoughts, then," Hanna uttered quietly, her response dwelling miserably among the rest of her friends.

Referring the line-up before her, Mona announced, "She assembled the perfect group. Her stare flickered between them as she dubbed the liars with the same identifier that Alison had three years ago. In order, Mona revealed what each of them already about who they were, who they were to Alison and who they were that Alison made. "Smart—" Spencer, "loyal—" Emily, "admiring—" Hanna, "protective—" Halle, "and compassionate—" Aria. Currently, they weren't just little things; they were the biggest things that the liars were. The reason why Alison entrusted them. The reason they held onto saving her so badly. Because one of them alone was good but unsteady; all of the together ensured Alison was immortal.

Confused, Aria asked, "Perfect group for what?"

The rage flared up wildly within Spencer. It drenched her tone, hardening it. "For a sociopath to manipulate."

Small, Halle pieced what she could together and said, "That's why she chose you guys."

"She chose you, too," Mona voiced, and Halle's tender gaze flashed up to her. "You were the first. The one that started it all." She said, "Alison would have gotten bored with any one of you, but all together..."

It was clear now to Spencer. She scoffed, "We're her challenge."

"I never understood why Alison chose me," Aria spoke, cut-up wholly by what she was hearing. It her in the most vulnerable, insecure parts of her personality. "What made me so special."

"When you don't feel anything, it must be really fun to mess with somebody who feels a lot," Mona expanded just for Aria, sympathising with the crush to all that was known. "Alison picked you because you care — and she can't."

"So," Emily checked in with the other, cautious, careful, "are we really saying that Alison's definitely A out loud?" She glanced to Emily, her pinkie itching to be held. "For real?" She was met with silence. It bruised her. The deadly quiet shot through her like a bullet to the heart. Emily was bleeding out. They all were. This was destruction, not mutual, but close to a massacre. All they were now were ruins of each other, the scraps of who they were; a mere shell of people. That was when the devastation hit Emily worst of all. "She never loved me."

Sadly, with a forlorn frown upon her lips, Aria sniffed out her annoyance, "She never loved any of us."

"Guys, if Mona's right—" Spencer inhaled a deep, shaky breath, "if Ali is ending the game because we cut her off, then she went to the cops to convince them that she's innocent and we're the guilty ones."

"Guilty of what?" asked Aria, panicked while all that replayed in Halle's head was one thing.

Crunch.

"Everything," said Mona, and the liars looked to her in fright. "Look, I can find out what she told the cops," she reassured calmly. "Maybe it'll give you guys a fighting chance to get your stories straight."

As Mona moved to leave, Hanna stopped her when she spoke. Visibly upset, her nose stuff and eyes glassy, she asked, "Mona, why are you helping us?"

After she turned, Mona took a step towards the liars. With pride at the forefront, fear lacing the latter half, Mona revealed, "I got early acceptance letters from three colleges, but I still have to survive senior year. And I can't do it alone," she concluded at the end.

"We need your help, Mona, but this doesn't suddenly make us besties," Emily reminded her, harsh in the approach."

Halle shook her head, face like thunder. "Em, she's helping us 'cos we asked—"

"Look, I don't expect all of you to be my friend," Mona cut Halle off reasonably. "I understand why that can't ever happen. But—" her cool stare focused on Emily and she said dryly, "no, I don't wanna hold your hand in the hallways, Emily. No one can know that I'm doing this or the deal is off." Gravely, she warned them, "And that includes your bed-buddies — Okay?"

The secrets she had shared and the one she was keeping locked away tight from Jason played in Halle's mind. She was happy to add this to the latter, adding a second secret to the most important one. It helped that Mona understood the first. "Okay," Halle said, speaking for the group.

"So, do whatever you were gonna do today. Just act normal," Mona advised them as best — and as stern — as she could. The liars nodded just in time before the door burst. In a flash, they parted like the sea. At being caught, the group separated fast meanwhile Mona fixed on a large grin for the twins that Alison had befriended. "Hey, Toodles," she greeted merrily. "Happy almost-ho-ho day, have a great winter break. Let's hope we're all refreshed for the new year, yeah," she spoke out like a mantra, an enthused chant to drag them all through it, then she swept out the bathroom like she didn't have a care in the world.

So did the liars, as best they could.

•

"So, how... how do I even start?"

Aria's question loitered eerily in the warm air around her. The cosy, nicely-decorated counsellor's office eased her insides partially. Her insecurities still bubbled away, simmering at her anxious surface. She picked at her nails, trying to chip her fresh manicure already. Her hands rested in her lap as she sat opposite Jesse Lindal, him far more relaxed than her.

"However you like, Aria, this is a safe space," Jesse made certain to tell her like he had done when she first arrived. "We don't even have to talk about that yet," he hinted vaguely to the issue that drew her to his plus sofa.

"No, no—" Her eyes were wide, eager as she said, "I have to talk about... that." She dropped her voice. "If I don't, I'm just gonna bottle it up again and I'll end up lashing out at one of my friends or someone else, and I really don't wanna do that." Aria raised her chin and stated bravely, "I wanna fix this."

"This might not be so easily fixed." Jesse explained, "What's happened to you, what you're coming to terms with, isn't fixable."

Her brows knitted together, insulted. "Why not?"

"Because trauma isn't fixable, it's manageable," Jesse reasoned with her. "Take it like this..." He reached for one of the glasses from the wooden tray, in the middle of the table between them, and poured from the water-jug. Filling it halfway, Jesse then added some of his own coffee into the same glass. "The coffee's the trauma, okay," he said. "And it makes the water bitter. Now all the fixing— or the good sugar like these sweets can be added too—" he popped in a few candied chocolates, watching them plop and sink to the bottom, "but it's still gonna taste bitter," explained Jesse. "That trauma's still there even after all the work."

"So..." Aria exhaled deeply and came to the conclusion, "this is pointless."

"It's not pointless," Jesse corrected. "In fact, I think you'll really benefit from talking about it. From understanding some of what happened."

"He groomed me, that's what happened," Aria said like it was rehearsed. She was comfortable with the word now — groomed — but it didn't change the fact she had to be the most perfect, believable victim so people would trust she was telling the truth. In times like these, it caused her to sound robotic. "He was my teacher and he groomed me."

Nodding, Jesse said, "It's often a lot more than that, and I get the feeling with you it is." He sat back and opened up his hands to her, letting her take lead. "So, how about you start at the beginning?"

"The beginning... I don't..." Aria shook her head and said, "I don't know where that is. For him." She admitted lowly, "He knew who I was when he met me."

Jesse asked, "Where does it begin for you?"

"Uh, I..." Aria's head fell at an angle. "Do you really wanna know?"

"I wanna know," Jesse confirmed. He supported her, "I'm here to listen, Aria. You just have to talk to me."

"I... I had just gotten back from being away," Aria started as best she could. "I was in Iceland for a year. My dad had done some teaching over there and we went to get away from Rosewood, from what was happening here." She said, "We left after Alison disappeared. For that reason and because my dad was having an affair with one of his grad-students."

Jesse's eyes grew larger, stunned at what he heard. "Your mom knew about this affair?"

Aria shook her head. "No, just me," she answered. "I found out about it and my dad asked me to keep it a secret. He had ended things, so I didn't see a reason to tell my mom... and at the time, I thought I was protecting her."

"From the hurt she'd feel if she knew the truth?" questioned Jesse.

"Yes."

He pondered curiously, "Did you want to leave Rosewood?"

"Oh, my god, yeah!" Aria was far too eager as a jerk-reaction. She then slowed herself down, to seem less forceful with her escape to Iceland. "I had to," she said. "I had to get away from it all." Her eyes felt heavy, welling up at the reminder of what she had done. The weight of the rock in her hands; how it felt to bring it down, crash it into Alison's head, and heard it slash through skin and crunch the bone. "I struggled after the night Alison... after That Night. If anybody fo— I blamed myself for what happened to Alison," she corrected her sentence briskly, before she revealed too much. "And I wanted to get away from Rosewood — from it all. I wanted a cut-off point from That Night and after."

"Did it help?" Jesse pondered. "Being away for a year?"

"I think so," Aria answered. "I kept a pretty intense journal while I was in Iceland. I wrote about her and That Summer a lot, and it helped. I think at some point I managed to convince myself it was just a story I made up — that I didn't have a friend go missing — that I didn't do what I did." She shook her head, eyes down at her lap. "I didn't want to come home, but we did... right before the anniversary."

For clarity, Jesse questioned, "Of Alison's kidnapping?"

"Disappearance, that's what we all thought it was," Aria framed it how she saw it. "I thought the way everyone was talking about it was like it was some sort of party, like they were celebrating it. And I was alone in my grief," she shared weakly. "Surrounded by her. Missing her. Hating her. Feeling guilty for hating her, feeling guilt for missing her too. That was when I met Ezra." Her eyes shot up. "Mr Fitz."

"You can call him Ezra, that's how you know him," Jesse reassured her softly. "You're not going to get told off for that in here, or elsewhere."

A small smile itched on her face, grateful for that assurance. So, she continued, "Uh, we... I found out later that we met in the same bar he met Alison." Her hate spilled into anger; and with her anger came tears. Now, Aria cried when she was mad. "I can't think back on that meeting without questioning everything he said to me, because he already knew everything about me. He knew how to get me talking and to open up to him. I thought he just got me better than anyone else. Nobody had known me like that since... well, Alison."

Next, Jesse asked, "When did you find out he was your teacher?"

"The next day in class," Aria said.

"And how did Ezra react?"

"He... didn't think it was safe, but he thought I was amazing," Aria recalled. "He said everything I wanted a guy to say about me, and followed it up with no. It was him being my teacher that was his problem, but he caved after Alison's funeral. Faith's— no, Bethany's... Bethany Young's funeral," Aria muddled through the confusion of that. "He made me think like it was me pursuing him. Like I was the one pushing it, that it was all my idea. It wasn't," she defended briskly. "Ezra wanted this as much as I did. More than I did," Aria muttered glumly, "It's clear to me now that he wanted to be close to me so he could be closer to Alison and write his book."

Jesse checked, "You don't think any of it was real?"

"I—I'm not sure," Aria's voice cracked. "I want it to be real. Some of it, because it was real to me. His intentions were never good though, so no. And he... there's parts of him I didn't know until... until I found out about the book, so no again. But I can't live knowing not even a part of it was real—" tears welled in her eyes once more. "He can't be that good of a liar. He can't, and I couldn't have fell for it. Not seen it." Shakily, she swore, "I'm not stupid."

"Nobody is saying you are," Jesse told her.

"No, but they're calling me the liar," Aria sharply countered. "His mom. Maggie. She's got this ring on her finger, giving tv interviews about how much she loved him and how long she's loved him." She gritted her teeth, ragefully. "They're even dragging out Malcolm— like 'look, look here— why would he go for a school girl when he's got a fiancée, he's got a kid!'" Hotly, Aria stated, "Malcolm's eight, by the way. It's disgusting."

Very carefully, Jesse asked, "You know all these people personally?"

"Yeah," Aria said, eyes ducking down to her nervous hands. "I was with Ezra when he found out he had a son, a few months back. His mom and Maggie have both looked me in the eye and have known was Ezra was doing. His mom told me I was the problem and I was ruining his life, she tried to pay me off."

"But the book proves he did groom you," Jesse pointed out.

"Yeah, but for research," Aria snapped. "Not because he was a predator. That's their spin!"

"Aria—" Jesse sat forward, his voice lowered seriously, "are you more upset over being called a liar and how they're treating you?"

"No." Aria was shaking her head profusely. "No, I—" She forced out her fragile strength, "I'm upset because I was bullied by Mona and everyone called me a liar. I was stalked, harassed and abused by Ezra and everyone is calling me a liar now." Her voice raised, "I was manipulated by him for a story — and I'm the liar! It's there — in black and white — people are gonna read it — and I'm still gonna be the liar!" Seething, she exclaimed, "I lose!"

"Okay," Jesse stayed collected. "Let's take a breath," he directed. "Calm down for a moment." He said, "Aria, this is not about winning."

But it is, Aria wanted to say. She wanted to tell him that was exactly what this game was about. Winning. Yet, Aria was too aware of the dangers that confession would bring. If she accidentally spilled about the game she and her friends were playing because she got too loud and so hot-headed in her first counselling session, it would have life-threatening implications. This wasn't about A. It was about Ezra. And he wasn't A anymore — his A was dead — and what she could say would severely hurt her friends.

"I just—" Aria felt her eyes sting. "I don't understand why me. I mean, I've talked it through with my friends," she explained. "And they've all said that it was just chance I walked into that bar and he was there. That, if I didn't, it could've been any of one of us he chose." Her stare was desperate, pleading. "But Ezra chose me. He chose to signal me out like he knew something about me already that I didn't — I still don't, I guess." She slouched, thinking on her compassionate label. "I think that's what makes it worse, not knowing if I was just an opportunity to him or if it was something about me."

"I think it goes a lot deeper than what you're saying," Jesse revealed to her in hopes of getting through further. "Ezra Fitz has a pattern of intrusive, inappropriate behaviour when it comes to you and your friends, yes. He could've chosen to manipulate you like he did them, as your teacher, but he didn't. He saw an opportunity present itself to him when you walked into that bar, on the day of Alison's anniversary, and he took advantage of that." Jesse sat forward to explain more, "And by convincing you that the relationship was your idea — that you pursued him — that there's this teacher/student dynamic he can't shake because of your age, it passes the responsibility onto you. And you accept it," he said. "According to him, your age and you being his student is your fault, and it's becomes this stain rather than him taking ownership of what he's doing as an adult." He paused then asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

Aria nodded feebly. "Of course."

"How did Ezra describe you?" Reasonably, Jess gathered, "Did he say you were an old soul? Mature for your age?"

"All the time," Aria said. "He used to say he never saw me as a child. We connected on so many times. His interests were my interests. He cared about what I cared about. He... He knew everything about me."

"Right." Jesse swallowed and asked, "And when you fought? Did he ever throw those same compliments back in your face?"

From her memory, Aria recalled miserably, "One of our first fights, it was over my parents. My dad's affair. He suggested my mom could've known — because that's what his parents were like -1 and I was so upset by it. I got angry, he got angry at me for getting angry. It turned into a fight about us where he said he thought I was adult enough to handle it."

"We see that a lot in cases of grooming," Jesse informed. "The older person often uses those kind of things — age-related — as a give and a take. They compliment you on your maturity then punish you with your immaturity at another time. It makes the victim — in this case, you," he offered kindly, "seek out that approval more, because you see it as the highest compliment. You're trying to match his age mentally, and he decides where that post is that you have to reach. It's about manipulation."

"So—" Aria shuffled to the edge of the sofa, eyes wide and intrigued, "can you say why he chose me?"

"Well, that's a heavy thing to take a guess at, Aria," Jesse bristled. "I'm not sure that's right for your first session with me—"

"Please," Aria begged. She needed to know he didn't pick her because of Alison — for the same reason Alison did. "I just wanna know what it is about me that he saw and chose me for. I wanna know why I was so easy for him to manipulate."

"If I had to..." Jesse took a moment to breathe, to collect his thoughts. Everything told him not to tell her — not to give so much away in her first session — but Jesse wanted to help her. Aria seemed so lost, so tortured by the whole nightmare that stalked her around that Jesse needed her to keep coming back to these sessions. He feared what would happened if she didn't. "I would say, you were in a vulnerable position when you met Ezra. One of your best friends disappeared for a year, then was believed to have been found dead. I can gather from your year away, you lost touch of your friends, so you were alone. You were keeping a huge secret for your father from your mother, out of love and protecting her. And I'm guessing you provide support for your family, especially your mother, in a way a child shouldn't have to. Then you met someone who you thought knew you from the first moment he saw you." Jesse expanded greater, "All these factors make you more mature, yes. They caused you to grow up a hell of lot quicker than most teenagers, but they also made you an easier target to be preyed upon."

It stumped Aria. Her stomach felt like his had this massive, gaping hole directly in the middle and wind just past straight through. It was wide open and all the hits she took swept through her. She realised Ezra had chose her not because of who she was — Alison's friend, the compassionate one — but because of everything about her. She was a target — the best target. All Ezra had to do was snake himself in, delude her head with fantasies of being wholly known, and Aria would confide in him all the secrets of That Summer.

She didn't, though. She kept one to herself.

That Night.

Yet, a part of Aria wondered if he knew. If that was also a reason to why he picked her. Why he stayed so long with her. Ezra had figured out one of them had done it — had hurt Alison That Night — and Aria gave him his answer by simply walking into a bar.

•

Christmas music swam out of the Fields' house and rolled out across the porch. Emily was thriving; this was always her favourite time of year and with her dad already being home, him on medical leave, she was committed to making their best holiday yet. The house was strewed with twinkling lights, full and vibrant wreaths, giant decorative ornament as well as a large nativity display on her front lawn. All of this was done while her parents were in the city for a doctor's appointment — a nice surprise on Emily's side while her dad was still unable to hang and climb a ladder himself. Because of it, she dragged her friends out to help.

Upon the flat roof, outside of Emily's bedroom window, Halle helped Jason set up the scene. He had kindly offered his assistance for the day, pinning up Christmas lights and listening to his girlfriend's friend as she ordered him to put the santa and his sleigh more to the right and to straighten up the reindeer. Below, Emily observed it all from the front porch with a positive grin. She had already perfectly placed the two trees made up of white flowers either side of the front, shouted at Caleb for hammering 'The North Pole' sign in the wrong place and framed every wreath with a big, red bow. Now, she brought out her homemade eggnog to treat her workers in the snow while Caleb still fiddled through the tangles of colourful lights.

"Em," Hanna started cautiously as she approached the porch, her with yet another string of Christmas lights to put up, "when Mona said to act normal, I don't think she meant we had to decorate your house so they can see it from outer space."

"This is the only thing I do every year for me and my family, Hanna, and we haven't been able to do it yet because my dad's sick," Emily returned. "All we had was one set of lights and the tree in the house. I want to do something special, I'm not gonna let Ali take that away from me." With a merry smile upon her face, Emily held out one of the green matching cups to Hanna. "Eggnog?"

Hanna looked off. "No, thanks."

Sighing dramatically, Emily scolded her, "If you can't find Christmas in your heart, Hanna, you're not gonna find it under the tree."

At that, Hanna struck out her hand. She accepted the cup from Emily, narrowly admiring the gold snowflakes on the green. She was about to leave when Aria arrived, a frown on her features and saddened eyes that barely acknowledging the obnoxious 'This Girl Loves Christmas' shirt that Emily wore proudly.

"Happy holidays!" exclaimed Emily, beaming. She dropped it. "You're late, but you can still help."

"Uh, yeah, sure, Em," Aria said, rather withdrawn. "Is Halle around?"

"She's on the roof," Hanna flatly answered. "Don't ask."

"I wasn't gonna," Aria replied. "I know how the Fields' house is normally decorated. I'm— If it's alright with you, I'm gonna go help Halle," she said.

"Here—" Emily handed her two cups of eggnog and declared, "it's for Halle and Jason, you can have yours after you've put in some work."

"Right, sure," Aria said, rather meekly. She took the two cups without complaint and entered the house in search of Halle. The two on the porch watched her go, their smiles slowly slipping.

"Do you think she's okay?" Hanna asked.

"I don't know," Emily said, guilty now eating away at her. "She had her first session with the guidance counsellor today, so I'm gonna guess no."

Aria ascended the stairs steadily. She carried the hot cups of eggnog up them, careful and considerate of bringing liquids upstairs in a home that wasn't hers. The door to the attic was agar with boxes tumbling out of it. Aria heard a big, deflating sigh and then Halle came out of the door.

"Oh, hey," Halle greeted.

"Hey," Aria said. "These are for you and Jason —eggnog."

"Wow, I'm surprised Em didn't force me to sing Jingle Bells to get some," Halle jested lightly. She waited for a laugh or a crack of a smile, but when none came, Halle grew soft. "Hey—" she set aside the box of green, faux foliage and berries, "what's the damage? Are you alright?"

"I had my session with Jesse today," Aria mentioned, and Halle grew even more gentle. "It was easier than I thought it would be, but he gave me a lot to think about."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Halle asked her.

Aria shook her head. "I just wanted you to know," she said. "You're the first person I wanted to call after."

"You should've," Halle responded with a tiny, encouraging smile. "Next time, you call and I pick up, alright?"

Putting on a smile, small but still a touch sad, Aria agreed, "Okay."

"Now, come on," Halle said, her outstretched to lead Aria to the roof. "Join Christmas hell with me."

With a laugh, Aria asked, "Is she that bad?"

Halle laughed also. "Oh, no, she's much worse."

"Hey, Em?" Jason called out from the roof. "Does this look right to you?" he asked, just as Emily stepped down onto the front lawn, littered with boxes of ornaments yet to go up, to look for herself.

From her position, her winter boots trudged deep in the snow, she examined the set-up — Santa Clause in his sleigh, pulled by reindeers, and behind it was the bundled up snowman. "Ah," Emily sighed, digesting it, "a little more to the right," she said. Jason lifted the snowman with ease only to have Emily say, "no, my right, not Snowey's right."

"Snowey's?" Jason asked with a huff, still holding the heft weight of the glass snowman. "Don't you mean—" he placed it where Emily liked it to go, "my right?"

"No, Snowey's," Emily confirmed. "Be careful with him, I've had him since I was three. You need to come down to get Pingey and Wingey, too."

Jason blinkered at her, utterly baffled. "What now?"

"Pingey," Emily said, as she pointed out the right penguin, "and Wingey," she stated of the left.

"Right," drew out Jason, uncertain of how to handle or take that swell of information.

Across the white-covered lawn, Caleb was with Hanna while they fixed the third set of lights that Emily wanted up around the porch. "Which one did you touch?" he asked her, as the lights refused to work.

"All of them," Hanna half-freaked, fretting over the handful she searched through, "I don't know."

Emily observed their panic. "Oh, try one of the red ones," she advised, "they always go out." She craned her neck, stretching it as Hanna did what she instructed. After one the red light was wiggled into place, the entire line of them lit up and surprised the couple. "Told you," Emily chimed happily. "Now let's deck the halls and fa la la la la." She grinned brighter than ever, cheerer than Caleb had ever seen her, before Emily strolled off to go sort something else out.

Holding back his laughter, Caleb asked, "What is wrong with her?"

"Read her boobs," directed Hanna, shaking her head while she smiled. "The girl loves Christmas."

"Where's Jesus?" Emily asked out loud. She was overlooking the incomplete nativity set, worrying about of the key player was missing.

Above, Aria raised the figure out. "He's up here!" she yelled to calm the rising anxiety in Emily's tone.

"Oh," Emily said out of vast relief. "He needs to go down here, you can have eggnog for that, Aria."

Under her breath, Aria uttered, "Wow, eggnog for Jesus."

"Hey, you did one thing," Jason argued lightly, "I've been here for two hours before I got that."

Smiling at him, Halle walked to her boyfriend and planted a kiss to his lip. Her arms were soon around his shoulders, her gazing up at him sweetly. "And I'm very grateful you're wasting your time doing this for Em," Halle praised him. "If it helps ease your discomfort, I'll give you a massage later."

"Ew, you guys are so gross," Aria said, pulling a disgusted face.

Laughing, Halle glanced over to Aria as she pinned fake shrubbery to the table the snowman sat on. "I said, massage — nothing dirty," she said.

"Yeah, but I'm intelligent enough to know what massages lead to," Aria defended.

"What kind of massages are you getting?" Jason joked.

Halle leant up and whispered louder enough for Aria to hear, "The happy ending kind, apparently."

"Oh, shut—" Aria pointed the staple gun at her friend and squeezed, "up," she said, as the metal staples barely reached Halle.

Once Jesus had be returned to Emily, she immediately put him in his rightful place. Directly under the gorgeous angel, that loomed over Mary and Joseph, Emily planted Jesus down in his manger. With all the joy steaming throughout Emily's body, she sparsely reacted to the thick snow that blanketed Rosewood and her front lawn; her long-sleeved shirt provided enough warmth. Plus, Emily loved how white and clear everything looked, pristine among all the snow-covered trees around them.

Coming over to admire her work, Caleb mentioned, "You guys really go all out." He sent her smile, reassuring her that he was sincere, just as Caleb propped his hand on the wooden frame to protect the decorations from the weather.

"Yeah," Emily said, radiating happiness. "My dad always finds a way to come home for Christmas, so after thanksgiving dinner, my mom and I come outside, turn on the lights and we know it won't be long until we see him. This year, it's different," she added, a little sadder now. "He's home and we haven't decorated the way we like to, so I wanna do this so it's the same. We can still celebrate him being home without him coming home, you know. It's my little tradition that I wanna see through."

"It's nice," Caleb replied kindly. "And, well, now I know why you love Christmas."

Glancing down at her shirt, Emily chuckled out of embarrassment. "Yep."

Hanna joined them after finishing up her phone-call with Mona. Scratching the back of his head, Caleb faced her and asked, "Uh, how's everything at home?"

"Good," Hanna lied, having recalled how she told Caleb it was her mother who called rather than Mona so she easily sneak away. "She just needs cranberries."

It puzzled Caleb. "They were on the list," he stated. "They should be in the fridge."

For a second, Hanna's mouth simply hung open. She had been caught-out and her brain took a beat to recalibrate a new lie. "Yeah, I know," she said, "but my grandma likes the canned kind. You know, the kind that you slice."

Innocently, Emily intervened," I thought your grandma always made that salad with the cranberries and the marshmellows in it."

Hanna glowered at Emily, silently telling her to be quiet. Emily's smile dropped at it.

"Or not."

"Hey, Em," Aria called out from the roof, "can you grab a staple gun and give me a hand?"

Thankful for the escape, Emily quickly fled the tense scene. It gave Caleb the freedom to turn his entire attention to his girlfriend and call her out for the blatant lies she's told back-to-back. "Okay, what was that?" he asked.

Acting dumb, Hanna countered, "What was what?"

Caleb delivered her a serious look and said, "Hanna, I know when you're lying to me." He spied her peer away, her head dipped. "And if you don't tell me, I'll march right up to that roof, stop Halle from hanging Emily's snowmen, and ask her instead."

Hanna gasped, "You wouldn't."

"I would," Caleb replied. "Now, tell me."

•

"Who else was in the barn that night?"

On the computer screen, a relaxed and collected Alison DiLaurentis geared up to take aim at her ex-friends. Despite being strapped up to the lie-detector, Alison looked incredible demure; a picture-picture example of the most put-together and calm-headed individual. Meanwhile, the liars hovered over the laptop, that was perched on the Hastings' kitchen island, with trepidation in their lungs, as they were all collectively holding each other up — and together.

"Aria Montgomery. Hanna Marin. Emily Fields. And Halle Brewster."

Alison missed off Spencer. The group wondered why. Spencer was there. Spencer was with them. She was asleep on the chair, knocked out, like they were; and before that she was giggling loudly as music blasted around them. They were all together. Alison was lying.

"When you left the barn, they were all still sleeping?"

"Yes," Alison answered.

"Where did you last see Spencer Hastings?"

Halle, from her standing position, felt the room go cold. A chill bolted up her back, torpedoing her. She, along with the others, knew exactly what had happened That Night with Spencer — how she was irate, speeding and threatened Alison with a shovel. They knew now what Alison was doing. Like the spider she was, she was laying a sticky web. It was trap. The police fell into it, and Spencer was the prey. After all, she was the easiest to blame.

Evenly, Alison said, "She came to my house."

There a brief pause, then the man followed up with another question. "You were the leader of the group, right?"

A peeved glaze drenched Alison's face, unhidden. "Unofficially," she said.

"And your friends would have done anything to help you?"

Alison's features twitched. There was a physical change to her appearance. Whereas before she was calm, collected, and assured, now she was hesitating. The question affected her.

" ... If you needed them?"

"I think so," replied Alison.

A throbbing burned at Halle's temples. Her head seared. She thinks so? Thinks so?! The rage spitefully worked its way up Halle, slithering and looping around tightly. They had risked their lives for Alison countless times, and she repaid them like this? Like they were nothing?

The questions took a more calculated switch. "Was Spencer a loyal friend?"

Before Spencer and Mona exchanged looks, the former ready to call it quits, Mona held up a hand. She silently told Spencer to wait, so she did.

"As far as I knew."

"Why was she at your house?"

First, Alison paced herself. She played up to it. She feigned hesitating this time, pretending, living the lie outwards like electric pulses charmed her wrists and chest. After a beat, Alison responded, "It was my fault. I pushed her to that place."

"What place?" the man pressed for a clearer, more specific answer.

All six predicted it. They saw what was coming. What Alison decided to hurl at them maliciously. A scoff left Hanna, overlapping the reply that Alison gave.

"She was angry."

"Did you know Spencer was abusing amphetamines?"

As Hanna cast her eyes down, Halle had to tear herself from the laptop to stop her from chucking it. An uncomfortable breath, tight and unsafe, escaped Spencer. Her body tensed while it grew worse for her, painting her cruelly in an unhealthy light, criminalising poor mental health again.

"I found out That Night," Alison admitted.

"Because she was under the influence?"

"She dropped her pills," stated Alison. "I saw what they were."

"Would you say she was desperate?"

Alison asked, "For what?"

"For you to keep her secret?" returned the man.

"She was emotional. But I promised her I wouldn't say anything," Alison revealed.

"And in return for your silence, what was she willing to do?"

"I wouldn't know," Alison said. "We never discussed it again."

"Is there something else you would like to tell me?"

Straightening up her shoulders, Alison focused her blue eyes straight ahead, piercing the camera, and remained confident. "I didn't have anything to do with Bethany Young's murder."

The liars were speechless. Their jaws hung in shock. Gone was the trepidation; in its place was anger. It sprouted rapidly from the set-up, all seething and alight with rage. Fuming, Halle pushed her curls from her face and held them back, straining as she fought the compulsion she had to scream.

"It's unreliable, right?" spoke Aria first out of the group. "Lie-detectors aren't a hundred percent accurate, your mom can get it thrown out," she said.

"The police still use these as evidence to present at trial," Mona explained. "Sometimes it's enough to get that judge's signature on a warrant."

"We could argue it's not yes or no, though," Halle reasoned, instantly hitting back. She dropped her hands from her head, the miraculously idea soothing the fury she had spitting inside of her. "The questions had to be answered yes or no."

"But the police asked them," Hanna said, as she pointed out the obvious. "We can't argue that they're doing their jobs wrong."

"Why can't we?" snapped Halle furiously. "They're never done right from day-one. They've always being after us and this—" she pointed to the screen while Spencer pulled away from the island to go sit on the arm of the couch, "is more proof of that."

While Aria and Hanna span their stools around, facing out to the room, Emily rounded the far side of the island as she coolly said, "Nothing Ali said was really that incriminating."

"That incriminating, Em?" battled Halle, unwavering. "In this town, to those cops, that could mean anything between a slap on the wrist or being strung up for murder, which the latter seems more like what Alison's going for."

With her opinion at the ready, Mona stepped in to silence the stewing aggravation. "I think they questions they're asking tell us more about their investigation than her answers do," she shared.

Puzzled, Hanna asked, "How so?"

Purposeful, Mona let the word speak for her as she reiterated them most slowly for them to follow. "'Was Spencer a loyal friend?'" she put. "'Was she desperate?'"

Eyes wide in horror, Spencer shrilled, "Desperate enough to do what—?"

The door to the mud-room, off the kitchen, swung open, and Spencer stopped herself from finishing. Instead, Caleb did. "Kill Bethany," he said, shutting the door after him.

His presence unnerved the liars. All but Hanna, who rose to met him at the left side of the island. "Caleb," she weakly scolded, "you are supposed to keep that a secret."

He delivered his bag to the counter and slid out the industrial-sized laptop from the case. Shrugging off his girlfriend, Caleb excused, "Mona came to me."

A smile tugged at Mona's mouth and she said, "I knew you'd tell him, so I asked for his help."

"Are there any other helpers coming?" asked Emily, annoyed.

"No," Halle said shortly, "I didn't tell my bed-buddy."

"Neither did I," Spencer agreed, miffed also.

"If I had one, I wouldn't have either," Aria put, just as irritable as the four opposing Hanna and her loose lips.

"I'm sorry," Hanna whined. In her boyfriend's direction, she shot a smile and said, "But could you lie to that face?" He returned it just as Hanna added, "Besides, he said he would've gone to Halle next if I didn't tell him and she has a bigger mouth than me."

"Eh, I don't think that's true, Hanna," Halle intervened. "You got drunk and blabbed about New York not one week ago."

"Yeah, and you were sober last year when you told Toby to go after Dr Sullivan," the blonde swiftly recounted. "And sober again when you told Jason — both times."

"Alright." At being proven wrong, Halle sucked her teeth and accepted it. "Caleb can stay."

"Good, because I unlocked two more files," Caleb stated. He pushed open the laptop, a signal for the girls to crowd him. "Your software slays, by the way," he commented, smiling across the counter at Mona. "Is that decoding programme military?"

A shining moment where genius meet genius unfolded between the previously bitter pair, and Mona boasted proudly, "You don't wanna know."

While Caleb typed, he explained what he knew, "The cops were granted access to Bethany's Radley files yesterday. I can't open that link, but I did find this affidavit that Holbrook sent to the DA today," he said, and a window popped open on the screen.

Settling in closer, leaning, Aria read from the document, "'We no longer consider Alison DiLaurentis a person of interest in Young's murder investigation'." In shock, jaw slackened, Aria asked, "So, she's totally off the hook?"

Reluctantly, Caleb nodded. "Yeah, and Spencer's on it." His confession caused Aria to whip her head backwards, eyes firmly on a startled Spencer.

Eager to know more, Emily continued to read. "'The information we obtained from Bethany Young's hospital records inform the theory we've been working on since day one.'" Her voice loosely wavered. Her confidence was stripped from her as she trailed off to finished, "...'Spencer Hastings murdered Young to gain favour with the group's leader, Alison'."

Utterly mortified, Hanna questioned, "Why would killing Bethany score points with Ali?"

"Why would us blinding Jenna?" retorted Halle sharply.

"She told them she knew that I was taking the pills," Spencer pieced together gravely. "So they think that I would have done anything to make her keep it a secret."

"Yeah," Aria wondered out of pure confusion, "but why would they think that Alison wanted Bethany dead?"

"Hold up—" Halle tried to smother her anger with common sense, "doesn't that mean Alison is an accessory, if Spencer killed Bethany for her?" She asked out, "Don't that mean Spencer's a hit-man?"

"Not if Alison says she knows nothing about it," Caleb answered her simply.

"Or they believe that Spencer killed Bethany under the assumption she was Alison," Aria challenged the motive. She had been the one to hit Alison with a rock; of course, in that dire situation, she understood grief and rage better than anyone. "To hide her speeding secret," she said. "Bethany was in the same clothes as Alison, it could've been an accident."

To clarify, Mona pressed, "You said he sent this to the DA?"

The panic seeped into Spencer's vein. It pounded throughout her body, charging her with an unholy fear. "Guys, I know how this works," she claimed, trembling. "They submit an affidavit so they can issue an arrest warrant." Her hand dashed out to grab her mobile, snatching fast. Her voice shook. "Can you please call Toby? I have to find my parents—"

Swiftly, Mona cut in. "Before you do that," she said, "don't you wanna know what the cops know? That affidavit was sent the day after they saw Bethany's Radley files."

Immediately, Emily shared the same piqued interest. "There has to be something in those files that link Ali to Bethany." She announced, "Let's find out what that is."

"You guys, this is on me," Spencer tried to dismiss them. She wanted to push them away — keep them firmly out of her crossfire. "You don't have to do anything else."

"Spencer, shut up," Halle lectured her fiercely. "Of course we have to do something. Your mess is ours, too."

"Come on, Spence—" Hanna walked to her friend, a hand reaching to hold Spencer's, "we're gonna stick together.

"Yeah, because that's what we do," Aria said.

Around Spencer, her friends gathered. They chose her over and over; just like each one of them would for the others. Their joint comfort eloped Spencer up, warming her even in the worst, most panic-driven moments. Their five was solid. They couldn't be shaken from one another. Once they had promised to be there — to be more supportive — the liars were. Every link was strong so long as they were together.

From his spot, Caleb smiled small. He knew what it meant to have friends — to have their loyalty surround him when it was offered out of their tight-knit group. Then, from the corner of his eye, he spied Mona. Alone. Like always, she was on the outskirts looking in. In his head, Mona had her hands up, cupped around her eyes, as her breath fogged up the glass wall between her and the liars. With A, she tried to smash it. Her motive was to be one of them — to be their friend as well — but Mona never understood the key to friendship was to be welcomed in through the door.

Bravely, propped up by her four best friends, Spencer lifted her gaze. It landed on a sad-looking Mona, who curled up into herself at the absence around her, and Spencer gave the invite. "Let's go back to Radley," she said. "Together."

•

The uniform fit snugly. Halle felt in constricted around her chest too much, making it harder for her to breath. She supposed it was due to the pulsing adrenaline coursing through her, the anxiety that pumped her heart, and not the nurse's dress. It was the plan itself. Staring at the Radley sign, those intimidating iron gates, Halle's breath quickened. It was audibly shorter, faster. Halle could feel her head pound. At her temples, her new headache throbbed terribly

Noel had noticed. His eyes peeked across at her, flickering away from his intense surveillance of the front door. "You okay over there? You look like you're freaking out on me."

"On you, no. On this plan, absolutely," Halle answered, her mouth completely dry.

"I can distract you," Noel offered. "I can talk about something with you, a memory or whatever. It helps when you're doing stuff like this."

Halle faced him to show her cold glower. "Are you serious? Distract me?" She huffed and returned her stare to the gates, which grew more daunting as the seconds ticked by. "The last thing I wanna be while breaking into a mental facility is distracted."

With a roll of his eyes, noel said, "Come on, why'd you even invite me if you don't even wanna talk to me?"

"Because we needed a second lookout and after we told Toby what was happening tonight, he's fixed himself to Em, so you were left," Halle responded.

"Over Jason?" Noel pried too close to Halle's tended spot. "Why not him? He knows about A, right—?"

"—Course he knows," Halle snapped, interrupting. "I just don't... I don't want him here knowing we're doing this to catch his sister out," she reasoned. "It's not fair."

"And you know he'll protect her," Noel pointed out knowingly. He spotted the tension appear in Halle's face, the sucking of her teeth and the glare of her narrowed eyes. "That's it," he stated. "You know, when it comes down to it, he'll protect Ali. She's his sister after all, and those DiLaurentis's are tighter than people think."

Sharply, Halle countered, "The only thing that family is tight on is their lips. They've got too many secrets and none of us know them, and they're coming to bite us in the ass. So, yeah, that's why I ain't told Jason what we're doing." Turning her glare back to noel, she said, "Happy?"

"No," he replied. "Why don't you trust me?"

"I don't know, Noel, maybe it's the working behind our backs after you said you were on our team," Halle sarcastically mentioned.

"I had to protect myself," Noel argued fiercely

Incredulously, Halle gawked at him, "By stalking Spencer to her lake-house and threatening her?"

"Okay, yeah, maybe it was a bad idea," Noel conceded poorly, causing Halle to scoff. "But she got me back good, she slit open my blister from the fire, Hal," said Noel. "And I needed those images safe. If I could find them, Alison could."

With a heavy sigh, Halle asked, "How is your hand?"

"Healing," he answered. His mouth lifted into a slight smirk as he lightly said, "Stung like a bitch when he cut me with that fire-poker."

"Good."

The smile she gave him was brief. It barely lasted on her face for more than a couple of seconds, but Noel saw it. He smiled at it also, appreciating the lift in mood.

"Oh, and by the way," Halle inserted, "we added to it. From that same CCTV camera, we now have an image of Alison and Cyrus together, with a blonde girl."

"A blonde girl?" questioned Noel, confused.

"Yeah, you know anything about that?" she asked him, and Noel shook his head.

"I barely knew about Cyrus," Noel told her. "I knew she had friends on the street, in different places. She used a lot of them to stay safe and gone for as long as she did, but I don't know anything about a blonde girl."

"Great," Halle said, dry and sarcastic.  "'Cos they keep adding up. I swear, if I get another clue of 'blonde hair', I might—"

"H-Two," Hanna's voice came through like static over the walkie-talkie. "H-Two, come in. This is H-One." Halle let her eyes shut, a smile spreading across her lips as the severe tone of her friend. "Come in, H-Two."

Picking up the walkie-talkie, Halle pressed the button and spoke, "This is H-Two."

"They're in," Hanna said. "Code-go. I repeat, code-go."

"Be careful," added Caleb over the device.

"Always am," Halle replied. She turned to noel, handed him the device, and took a big, dreaded breath. "How do I look?"

"Perfect," said Noel almost too sincere. He cleared his throat and added, "You look perfect for breaking into a mental facility."

Halle gave a painful swallow and tried to fake a smile. "Thanks, wish me luck."

"Good luck," Noel replied. "Just, don't get caught."

"Great advice there, Noel, who would've thought of that, huh," Halle muttered sarcastically.

Swiping up the key-car from the console, Halle took a deep breath and opened the passenger door. She climbed out, shut the door after her and smoothed down the front of the crisp nurse's dress. Her small heels clicked against the tarmac as she crossed the street and headed straight for those towering, iron gates. She gripped tighter to the little, white purse, that matched the uniform, and stepped over the threshold of Radley.

With her head held high, Halle instilled the confidence she wore for competitions; she wished she had her ponytail now instead of a bun. She walked right up the the front door and swiped the pad. Her eyes closed while she waited that long second before a ping was heard and the light flashed green. A smile broke out on her face, and Halle entered with an ease in her stomach as she ventured through the lobby, her mind retracing the layout from memory. She had rehearsed this in her head too many times; she had to perfect this.

Noel sent the text the moment Halle was through the doors. Aria's phone chimed with the message and that was when it happened. Aria hid her phone away, back in her jean-pocket, and reached out her hand. With a quick bat, Aria knocked the jar of paint to the floor. It smashed with a loud crash, startling her backwards. In annoyance, like they had planned, the nurse on desk-duty left the station to come help.

"I'm so sorry," Aria apologised profusely. "This was totally all my fault. Wow—" the nurse buzzed herself into the day-room through the electronic, metal grated door. "Yeah, my middle name should have been klutz," she said, as she accepted the paper-towels. "Thank you."

Over the shoulders of the nurse, Aria spied Halle. She swept by the station and behind it, ducking lowly to examine the rows of keys. She was looking for the archive room just as Mona led Spencer through the side corridor, through more staff-only permitted areas.

"Hey, Sal, can you call somebody on the intercom for me please?" called out an orderly.

Halle's head shot up. Her eyes were large and she shook her head wildly at Aria, who panicked to catch the nurse's attention.

"—And can you believe I actually wanted to be a dancer growing up?" Aria said in joke. She wore a tight smile, making a fool of herself while Halle searched further. "And then I realised I was kinda on the shorter side, so—" Aria spotted Halle make a haste exit from behind the desk, holding up a thumb as a signal, "career crisis averted," she chuckled nervously. "Sorry, again."

After a narrow escape, Halle met the other two behind their chose designation. She held up the key with a marvellous, boastful smile. "Told you I'm quick," Halle said.

Spencer accepted the key from her. "Let's see if you're a quick reader, too."

"Holy crap, we've got company," fretted Hanna over the heat-set that only Mona could hear.

"H-One, use your codes please," Mona requested.

"Seriously?" Hanna rolled her eyes in irritation and huffed. "Okay, Red-light. Do you hear me?"

"—We're in," Mona said, as Spencer unlocked the door. The three burst into the old, dusty room. Immediately, they split up to divide out the work. Mona dove towards the desk while Spencer closed the door and pulled the light-string, illuminating the dank space, while Halle collected down the first box with the date 2009.

Impatiently, Hanna grumbled, "I said, red-light — as in the cherry on top of a cop car."

At that, Mona's eyes blew wide with alarm. "We don't have much time," she said to the pair already scouring the shelves, "Holbrook's here."

"We better hurry then," Halle declared.

"No," Spencer stopped her. "Go for dates before 2009, before Ali went missing. We're most likely gonna find Bethany that way."

"Good plan," Halle said, moving towards 2008 instead while Spencer grabbed the year prior. They both brought the boxes to the desk, in the middle of the room, and pried them open. They rifled through them, past the names of patients to find the only one they knew.

After a frantic search of pulling and yanking, Spencer exclaimed, "I got it, I got it!" She directed them, "it's these two."

She grabbed out the first chunky file and handed it over to Halle to read. She fetched out another for Mona and one for herself. Halle scoured the pages. She flipped through the file fast, eyes scanning every centimetre of text. Her confusion grew by the end of it, and Halle ended up flipping back to the start to make sense of the dates she was seeing.

"It looks like they've recorded every one of Bethany's sessions," Mona stated, as she rummaged in the box of Bethany's belongings.

"From when?" Halle asked.  "Because I only have stuff from October 2007," she said, imploring her friends with her eyes. "It's like there was no transition period—" she flicked through the pages again, slower this time. "No trials for drugs or treatments plans. Everything is already in place."

"Maybe she was already having treatment, just not in a facility," suggested Mona.

"Just keep looking in here," Spencer instructed. "Maybe you'll find the transfer papers." She set aside one file for another from August 2008. She didn't know why she got the itch to ask; she had all day. Often time curiosity got the better of Spencer, and this was one of those times. "So," she asked, "what are your choices?"

Mona's gaze flickered up from the notes of the tape summaries. A part of her wondered why it seemed too personal for Spencer, but answered anyway. "Yale, Harvard, and Dartmouth."

Spencer's disappointment was clear, melded with her frustration. "You got earlier acceptance from all three?"

"Brown, too."

Halle focused down on the words in front of her. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller. The space was tighter with less oxygen to share — like there weren't colleges to go around. It grew tense, and the words soon blurred as she passive conversation continued.

"But they're not offering me a full ride, so I'm passing," Mona explained. She returned the pages, reading through the dates and summaries. "How about you?"

Turning over the file, Spencer answered, "I haven't heard from anyone yet."

"Oh, well," Mona put, "if there's anything I can do to help..."

"I think you've helped enough," Spence sniped.

Mona nodded. "And Halle?" She focused the college-talk onto Halle now. "What about you? Surely Kentucky is a long way away now Jason is making roots," she commented.

"How do you know about that?" Halle asked, eyes hard.

"Oh, please, everyone knows he's back for good now," Mona replied. "He won't be messing that up again."

Halle overlapped her, "—I was talking about Kentucky, not... Not Jason. I ain't told anybody about Kentucky."

"Coach Rhodes was talking about it, how proud she is of you," Mona said with a smile. "A full-scholarship, too. But since we've bridged the topic," Mona hinted purposefully, "how is it going with Jason?" She teased, "Have you said those three words yet?"

"It's fine," Halle said shortly. Her eyes caught the look Mona gave, and Halle sighed, "We're back together. Boyfriend/girlfriend."

Spencer glanced away, down at the file as she focused more. Her head swirled with thoughts of Emily, as Halle's did with Jason and his sister.

"Okay, so what's the deal?" Mona asked, while they searched.

"There ain't one—"

"Tell that to your face," Mona cut in. "You've got those big, expressive eyes, Hal, it's how I can tell when you're lying — or keeping something to yourself."

"Ughh," let out a disgruntled Halle. "Here's got this secret, alright. He wants to tell me, but something gets in the way, then I ask him about it and then he suddenly can't tell me for some reason."

"For some reason? You mean his family," Mona corrected knowingly.

Halle rolled her eyes. "That damn family."

"So, what's the big deal?" Mona asked. "I know you have secrets you haven't told him."

A glare burned on Halle's face, pointedly scolding Mona because Spencer was in the same room. Yet, Mona met her with a stubborn expression, urging Halle to answer the question. Halle sighed, her shoulders falling, and explained, "It's 'cos I don't know if I can trust him to stick around now I know he's got this big family secret. He runs when something bad happens to him. I just don't wanna be left behind again."

"Don't tell me you actually believe that he'd leave you again." Mona scoffed at her. "The only reason he flakes out on you, Halle, is because he's never had such a good thing before. That's you, by the way," she expressed with clarity. "He's scared of screwing it up, and considering how he's been called a screw-up most of his life from his family... yeah, let him keep the secret he clearly wants to tell you, just let him do it in his own time," she advised well, surprising both Halle and Spencer, who exchanged looks of bewilderment.

With a shrug, Spencer added, "She's right on this."

"I'm right on everything, Spencer, don't you forget it," Mona chimed, bragging happily.

"You guys are gonna need to get out of there soon," Hanna's panicked voice came over the ear-piece Mona wore.

Immediately, Mona reacted to the warning. She started to bag the files and tape into the box, preparing to take the whole thing. It stunned Spencer.

"Wait, are we stealing this stuff?" Spencer asked her in shock.

Mona said, "We're borrowing it."

"They ain't gonna miss it, Spencer," Halle responded. "The cops have already read it."

"Wait." Spencer halted them. Her eyes were fixed onto something important. She directed them, "See if there's a tape for August 8th."

After briskly skimming through the slender box of tapes, Mona plucked one out. She handed it over and Spencer worked fast to enter into the cassette player. It creaked hard as she pressed play.

"I thought she really liked me."

It was a voice they hadn't heard before. The three got to place it upon Bethany. They listened to her speak — her cadence, her forcefulness, her delicate edge. She seemed wounded, hurt as she talked. Yet, it itched away at Halle after hearing one thing from her. The familiarity grew on her, niggling away at parts of her brain that craved to be scratched.

"Is it me, or...?

Mona met Halle's stare. "Does she sound exactly like Alison?"

"But everything she ever said to me was a lie."

"Who was she talking about?" Mona asked Spencer, referring down at the notes the other girl held.

"Every word. Every visit."

Shock plummeted Spencer. She sat back, astounded, and revealed, "Mrs DiLaurentis."

"You're playing," Halle spoke in disbelief. She quickly dashed over to Spencer so she could read the words herself — to witness it with her own two eyes to confirm it. She did. In black ink, Halle saw the name she couldn't deny. Jessica DiLaurentis.

Spencer told them, "She was Bethany's mentor when she was on the board. Her Auntie Jessie."

Scanning over the file, Halle said, "She was practically involved in every part of Bethany's care." Her stomach lurched at the thought, could this be the secret Jason hid? Did he know what happened to Bethany Young in his back-yard? Did Jason know her, too?"

"I wonder if I can trust anyone in that family. Is it like mother, like daughter?"

The spiteful tone caused Mona to snatch up the cassette player. She hit pause. "Oh, my god."

Halle's jaw slackened. "There ain't no way."

However, it was obvious. It was spoken directly at them, through a Radley tape, and Spencer had to questioned in her fury of all the lies, "Did Alison know Bethany?"

Again, it hit Halle. She felt winded by it. Her whole world seemed to be shaking. It was unsteady. Her head was also. She was left with the one question she didn't want to be. Did Jason?

She was pulled out of the archive room by Spencer. The grip on her way tight. Spencer's hand curled around Halle's forearm, keeping her locked to Spencer firmly. The three girls, all matching, went to leave the same way they had came. Halle had to split before the gates to return the key.

"Hanna, we need the second signal," Mona said, as they fast approached the separation point.

"We can't," Hanna said, panicking Mona. "Holbrook is in there, Aria can't distract them a second time."

Mona's wary eyes looked to Halle. "You're gonna have to lie and lie good."

"You're not serious," Halle said, frantic now.

"I am," Mona said regretfully. "Go."

Spencer released Halle, pushing her to the right, while afterwards, she and Mona carried on walking. Trembling, Halle clutched at the key. Her fingers were wrapped around it, hiding it from sight. Her head was dipped as she walked nearer to the desk, where the head nurse sat stony-faced. There was no possible way for Halle to put the key back, walk on by and flee without being stopped. She'd be caught, and Holbrook was here to rumble the entire mission. Halle killed the break-in. Her parents would kill her for not staying out of trouble.

"I told you, I'm supposed to be here," said a loud voice.

Halle's brows furrowed, Noel?

He stumbled around the corner, arguing with an orderly that allowed him inside. Noel walked ahead of the man, arguing. "I'm a volunteer. I'm supposed to be the art class."

"No, no!" the nurse stood from her desk angrily. She abandoned her desk, clicking her fingers at security to come grab him. "You are not allowed back here after last time. I let your friend in because the patients like her and you were the issue — out!"

"Do you not know who I am?" boasted Noel obnoxiously. "Who my father is?"

"Listen, I don't care who your father is — Dean, get him out of here," shouted the nurse irritably. Her back was to the desk, her hands sternly on her hips as she opposed Noel. Halle used this to her advantage as she dove in lowly behind the desk. She kept crouched as they fought, her sneaking the key back on its hook.

"My dad is Judge Kahn—"

A security guard clapped a hand down aggressively to Noel's shoulder, and the nurse barked, "Get him out before he disturbs the patients!" Just as she went to turn, Halle escaped from the station. She walked to her left, avoiding the head nurse on-duty by walking along the far side of the room. From a short distance, Halle followed them out, spying how the security guard shoved Noel once they were down the front steps.

"Alright, alright! I'm leaving!" Noel shook the man's iron-grip from him. He stepped back, away from the angry man. "I just wanted it on my college letter—" he waved his hand in the air dismissively, "forget it."

"Don't come back, asshole," warned the guard, in his blue uniform. He waited, carefully eyeing noel while he retreated away across the street. Satisfied, the guard turned as Halle was coming down the steps. "Careful getting to your car with what one," he said.

"Oh, I will," Halle replied, trying not to draw attention to herself. "Rich asshole thinks the world's his," she added in for affect, her voice edged with fake annoyance. "Have a good rest of your shift, Dean," said Halle quite cheerily, head down as she hurried away from him — and Radley. She made a right, staying out of sight, when she looked over the road to see noel beckon her to his car. Halle took that as the all-clear and headed to him. "You're a life-saver. I thought I was caught."

"I thought you were, too," Noel admitted. "I heard Holbrook was there, and he knew I had to get in." He gripped at the car door, opening the driver's side as she did with the passenger's. "Too risky having Aria do it again."

"Well—" Halle slid in the car and said, "thanks for saving my ass."

"Don't mention it," Noel replied, and the two of them shut the door. He glanced to her. "You get anything good?"

"If you mean did we steal it..." Halle let out a breath of relief, "yeah."

"So, we're thieves now, too — great," Noel noted with a short nod. "What was so good you had to steal it?"

Halle looked directly at Noel, her head pounding still. "Bethany knew Alison."

Before he could question it — before he could truly process what he was told — Halle's phone was afire with texts. It pinged drastically from the cup-holder in the centre console. She picked it up, examining the floods of alerts she had coming in. All she could see was the startling, 'SOS' and 'Toby', then her heart sank to the floor.

•

The very next day, the liars collected at The Brew. They had spent the rest of last night at the hospital, waiting around for news about Toby. Spencer had sent out the 'SOS' after the car collided with Toby's truck while she was on the phone with him; the liars had gathered in the waiting room for the few hours they were allowed to. His leg was broken, his police training on pause, and the guilt churned up in each of the liars for putting Toby in such a dangerous, risky place. Now, after their turbulent night, they restlessly loitered around the counter where Emily worked. Glumly, Spencer handed her the mug to refill, which Emily did without complaint.

Hanna commented, "I can't believe they make you work on Christmas Eve after what happened."

"I get off at noon," Emily replied, as she handed Spencer the hot coffee. "People still need their fix."

Accepting it, Spencer spoke quietly, "Thanks."

"Spencer, it's not your fault," reassured Aria, putting a comforting arm around her friend. She put aside the tedious remorse she felt. "It's not any of our fault."

However, her words did nothing to ease the guilt Spencer had. She rolled her eyes, unconvinced by it all. It was her fault that Toby was hit; he was following her plan. "Isn't it?" she asked. "He followed Alison because of us."

"Nobody asked him to follow her," Halle said defensively. "We told him to keep watch of Emily, not chase after Alison."

"But I should've known he'd do that," Spencer fought. "It's Toby."

Halle sighed, eyebrows lifted. "He'll play the hero if it means stopping A."

"He's gonna be fine, Spencer," Emily supported, having felt partially responsible for the accident herself as well. "You said so yourself. All the doctors said it was a clean break, too."

Glancing back, Spencer landed on Toby. He was on the phone, permanently sat in a wheelchair with his entire left leg in a cast. Her sadness transpired across her face, dragging down the mood further.

"This is the second bone he's broken," Halle recalled. "I say we wrap him up in bubble wrap."

Whispering, Spencer shared, "He's gonna be in that cast for about a month."

"What did he find out?" Aria asked lowly. "Did he say anything?"

"He saw Alison leaving Emily's," Spencer revealed. "Cindy and Mindy were her ride, so he followed them out to this abandoned farm. There had to have been at least a dozen cars out there. He was on his way back when that car hit his truck." Spencer dropped her voice gravely, "Guys, Ali is building an army of her own."

"And someone decided to take Toby out," Emily replied.

"Wait, you think this was one of them?" Hanna asked, shocked.

"Don't you?" Emily posed to them, and all the dread resurfaced.

They didn't have the chance to let the awful new settle alongside their permanent worry before the doors to the brew swung opened. Detective Holbrook led two officers inside, a determned and stoic looked upon his features. "Spencer Hastings," he said, and Spencer span to face him, "you're under arrest for the murder of Bethany Young."

In a flash, Spencer was startled. Her fear surfaced as an officer took his handcuffs and pulled at her wrist. "No. I—I –I didn't do this," she stammered in panic.

"What the hell?" cursed out Halle. "You can't do this."

Helpless, trapped by the bounds of his wheelchair, Toby shouted out of alarm, "Spencer!"

The metal dug into her skin, pinching at her wrists. Spencer winced, eyes blown large and terrified.

"NO, YOU CAN'T," Hanna screeched loudly, "SHE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

The liars argued in cries and frantic pleas of innocence. They overlapped each other, cross-talking. They screamed and shouted, cursing out the police as people began to stare. No doubt this would fuel the new-cycle up until after the holidays. Gossip was scolding when Spencer Hastings was arrested by tow officer.

"Anything you say," Holbrook started formally.

"—You can't!" Aria said.

Hanna protested again, "—she didn't do anything!!"

"—will be admissible—"

"—You've got the wrong person!" shouted Halle. "You should be arresting Alison!"

"—in a court of law," Holbrook at last managed to finish.

"She didn't do this!" screamed Hanna angrily, red in the face from her shrills.

Spencer pleaded for help, "Guys!"

"Spencer!" Toby called out again, stretching to reach for her but failing miserably. He couldn't stop this; he couldn't help her.

Her head whirled around to him as she was dragged away. Spencer's voice softened with a cry, "Toby."

The police didn't stop. Their grip on Spencer was iron-clad. The handcuffs hurt and pierced her wrists cruelly. Holbrook directed them out; he was going to parade Spencer across the town centre after the arrest. This was a publicity stunt for the Rosewood Police Department as well as following the leads both Alison and Wilden had left for them. Holbrook followed the crumbs, perfectly placed for a moment just as gut-wrenching as this. Alison cut off the brain. The liars' smarts was in handcuffs and being thrust out of the door of the coffee shop to an interrogation room.

"I'll call your parents," shouted Aria, terrified.

Emily added, "We'll get you out!"

•

Halle couldn't stop herself. She couldn't contain the anger — the fire inside of her, seething with every part of her. If the aim Alison was taking at the liars, especially Spencer, wasn't enough, seeing Spencer be man-handled out of The Brew in cuffs set Halle into a blistering temper. Her fury was unmatched. This time Halle wanted to hold the rock herself. Yet, her fury wasn't just targeted at Alison. It was at her mother as well.

Her fist pounded at the front door of the DiLaurentis house. She continued to incessantly knock, only getting louder and more infuriated the longer she had to wait. Her aggression didn't slow when Jason answered the door although she faltered for a beat.

"Hey, I didn't think we were meeting until—"

"Is she in?" Halle hotly interrupted. "Is she here?"

Jason was confused. "Who?"

"Who? Your mom, that's who," Halle snapped. "Her or your conniving bitch of a sister will do."

"Okay, let's calm down," Jason said, as he fully stepped out of the house. He made certain to close the door behind him, putting a firm barrier between Halle and his family. "Take a breath and tell me what's going on."

"What's going on is that she put the cops on Spencer," Halle raved madly, "and now Spencer's been arrested. So, you go get Alison and your mom, and you bring them down here, so I can can finally have it out with those liars."

"Wait—" Jason's hand came out, his eyes widened, "Spencer's been arrested?" His stare turned serious. "For what?"

"For Bethany Young's murder!" exclaimed Halle out of frustration. Her chest heaved with every laboured, struggling breath. She was fuming. It hadn't occurred to Halle to coax down her rage while she spoke to Jason. He was an accomplice to the lies, too. "Your mom and Alison knew Bethany," Halle revealed, and she watched him carefully for a hint he knew the dead girl also. "Your mom was on the board at Radley and was her mentor."

"She mentored a lot of patients," Jason defended. "She volunteered there."

"She knew the dead girl, Jason!" Halle persisted. "The dead girl who was murdered and buried in your yard — in the same goddamn top Alison was wearing That Night. That ain't a coincidence. So, they're gonna explain it to the cops so I can get Spencer out of that holding cell." Demanding, Halle raised her voice, "Get Alison down here now."

"She's not he—" Jason cut himself off. He avoided her harsh stare. "She's asleep in her room."

"Okay, then get your mom," Halle said.

His face contorted at her. "You think I'm gonna let you go anywhere near my mother when you're like this? You're acting on anger, that's not what my mom needs right now," he said.

"And what about Spencer's needs?" Halle countered, annoyed at him now. "One of my best friends has been arrested! Because of her!" she yelled, her finger furiously jabbed towards the house. "She killed her, Jason. She killed Bethany Young and your mom covered it for her, and they're both been lying 'bout it ever since and—"

"Enough!" Jason shouted, and Halle went silent. "Enough," he said. "You're not talking to my mom about Radley. Or Alison. You're not talking to any of my family about that place, it's off-limits."

"Why?" Halle pushed heatedly. "Why is that place off-limits? Why can't I talk about it to them? It's clearly got something to do with them — and you," she accused.

"You know why," Jason told her. "My mom had a hard time with that place after Alison had CeCe play that prank on her, she left the board not long after and she paid for me to see another doctor. It's not the Radley connection you're looking for."

"Okay, well that doesn't matter," Halle argued now. "Spencer's been arrested based on what your sister's saying—"

"That's not the only reason," Jason argued louder. "There's more evidence. There was the evidence from last year, too. The fibres of Alison's cardigan on Spencer's bracelet. Wilden thought it was her as well."

"Wilden also thought it was me who covered it up," Halle threw back. "So, I'm next. You get that, don't you? You get that me and the others are next. Your mom will push the whole lot of us in front of the bus to keep Alison far away from ever taking responsibility for what she's done, but I guess she had to learn it from somewhere, huh?"

"I get it," Jason said coolly while his eyes were dark and angered. "I get you wanna blame someone for what's happening—"

"I ain't blaming just somebody, Jason, I'm blaming your family." Halle's hand were clawed, stiff and splayed up in maddening frustration. "And all the lies and secrets — they caused it. She caused it," Halle accused. "You tell Alison for me, if comes near me or Spencer or any of us again — that includes Mona! — I will personally see to it that a rock ends up in the back of her head again. Not you or that damn door will keep me from doing that, alright? Have a nice Christmas," she cursed out, hotly turning on her heels.

"Hey, hey!" Jason's hand darted out. It curled around her wrist fast and whirled her back to him. "Whoa, you don't just get to storm off after that."

"I said my piece," Halle challenged. "Do with that what you want. Nobody — nobody! — screws with my girls and gets away with it. If you wanna stand by while Spencer is down at that precinct, being interrogated for a crime she didn't commit, while both your sister and your mom knew Bethany so well that she spoke about them in her therapy sessions, then—"

"Whoa, hold on." Jason stopped her right there. "How do you know about that? Why do you know that, Halle?"

"Because I heard it," Halle said. "We broke into Radley last night—" she saw him go to argue, him scoffing at her, "and the only reason I didn't tell you," she briskly defended the actions of her group, "was because of this exact reaction. I told Mona you'd do this — you'd choose your family." Halle's eyes stung, swirling suddenly with tears. "You'd defend Alison over keeping me safe."

"All I've done is keep you safe!" Jason yelled furiously. At long last, he snapped. He unleashed his simmering temper at her. "I went away because it was safer for you — every time, by the way. I worked on myself — on my sobriety — to keep you safe. To be better for you and me. I came back for you and I've kept your secrets to protect you. Don't tell me what I have or haven't done for you."

"What you'll do for your family, too?" returned Halle painfully. "Jason," she sighed, "I just told you that your mom knew Bethany Young, and you defended her. So, tell me."

"Tell you what?" he snapped.

Halle's stare bore up at him, unflinching, unwavering. She didn't hesitate. The question coated her entirely in shame, but Halle still asked it. "Tell me, did you know Bethany Young?"

His jaw set, locked. Jason's green eyes fiercely met her with the same scolding intensity. "No," he said. "I didn't know Bethany Young. Is that all?" He swallowed, hard. His gaze welled. "I'd like to go back to spending Christmas Eve with my family."

"You go that," Halle said bitterly. "I'll get Spencer out, without you."

•

Their argument hung heavy over her head. On her chest. Halle's heart was bruised from the beating she took and the lashing she delivered to Jason also. At the same time as she filled with remorse for her shameful behaviour, she didn't regret what she had done. What she had said. It was cruel and hurtful, but necessary. It wasn't even supposed to be aimed at Jason; he just got caught in the crossfire. That brutalised Halle, especially as she closed her eyes and dreamt herself back to that motel room not two nights ago and his promises that they'd stay the same.

They didn't. They wouldn't, not as long as Alison abused them. And the secrets remained between them.

Her house was full. The beautiful, red bows were tied around the wooden bannister and foliage was draped over every archway of the house. In the corner of the living room, a pine tree sat, intricated decorated with gold, red and white ornaments; the sparkling star was perched at the very top. There, beside it, Halle doomed herself to the couch. She was slumped over her phone, waiting, watching, begging for it to ring. She wanted news. She wanted Spencer free. She wanted to apologise to Jason.

"You know, staring at it isn't going to make it ring?" came her mother's light voice. "Here," she said, "I made you some hot chocolate." She set it down on the coffee table. "It'll help."

"Thanks, but I doubt that'll fix the mess I made," Halle replied.

Sitting down next to her, Luisa said, "Honey, it's not your fault your friend got arrested. Oh—" her tune changed, "this isn't about Spencer," she noted. "Well, maybe half of is. It's about..."

"Jason," Halle uttered. She rolled her head around to face her mother. "You wanna get the 'told-you-so' outta the way?"

"Maybe," said Luisa with a faint, playful smile. "But, no, I wanna know why you're pouting when you were beaming just a couple nights ago."

"We fought," Halle admitted. "Bad."

"Bad, unfixable, or bad, give him some space and it'll be okay?" Luisa wondered sincerely.

"Bad like I accused him of knowing Bethany Young," Halle told her.

Luisa gasped, her hand on her chest. "The dead girl?"

Halle's eyes shut, hating that identifier. "Please don't call her that."

"Why, Halle?" Luisa asked. "Why would to accuse him of that?"

"I—I don't know," Halle outpoured, chest tight and wounded. "I guess 'cos I know his family is messed up and they're always keeping secrets, and Mrs D was on the board at Radley... She was Bethany's mentor, Mom," she said. "And she knew Alison, too."

"So, you thought they all knew her," gathered Luisa gently. "Including Jason."

Tearing up, Halle shook her head. "I don't even know why I said it," she spoke. "I was angry about Spencer and everything's that happening, it's got me second-guessing everything. Everyone." Her gaze faced her mother. "Like, what's stopping him from leaving again?"

"Halle," Luisa said sweetly, softer now. She brushed her daughter's curls out of her face. "Are you fighting with Jason for this or because you think it'll be easier on you if you push him away this time if he leaves?"

Her lip quivered. "Both."

"Oh, come here, baby," Luisa said, beckoning Halle into her lifted arm. She wrapped it soothingly around Halle when she crawled closer for a cuddle, enveloping the weepy girl to her. "It's okay, it's okay to be scared of both, it's only right. But I know that boy loves you, so much. I mean, how couldn't he?"

"I'm just so scared my mess is gonna scare him away again," Halle admitted lowly. "He's left before. He's left me behind before, Mom. And everything's getting so much worse now. We just keep attracting more trouble — more danger," she said. "And 'cos of it I'm keeping him at this distance, I'm fighting with him over stuff I can't blame him for... because I don't wanna be hurt again... I don't want him to hurt me again."

Luisa put a kiss to Halle's head and responded, "Trust that Jason wouldn't want to do anything that would intentionally hurt you or put you in harm's way. Sometimes..." Her gaze lifted through the archway, towards the dining room, where her husband set the table with Riley's help, them laughing at some silly joke neither Luisa or Halle had heard but it caused Riley to lose it in laughter, "secrets keep the people you love safe," she explained.

"And yeah, you don't understand it," Luisa carried on. "You don't get it. You'll rack your brain trying to figure out why they'd keep something so big, so important, from you. But you realise that it's their protection. Their love. Or how they show love. It's hard to accept — that sort of protection, because it feels a lot like a lie, but... you'll forgive them because you know they're only doing their best." Luisa waited for Halle to look up at her, gentle eyes that mirrored her father's. "Don't give up on the idea you can be in-love with Jason away from all this mess. It can just be you two, no outside distractions."

"I can't separate them, Mom," Halle whimpered. "It's his family."

"Jason," said Luisa strongly, "is not his family." She came on leaps and bounds from last year, warning Halle to stay far from him because all DiLaurentis' were the same; that that family brought nothing but misery onto everyone around them. Now, Luisa was pleading with Halle to see it differently. "He's not them. He never has been. So, if you need me to give your grandparents a good excuse to why you're not at dinner tonight, so you can go tell him you love him and you're sorry, I'll lie really well." A playful smile crossed Luisa's lip. "You can go now, I'll cover."

A laugh escaped Halle. She smiled up at her mother. "I love you, lots," she said.

"I love you lots, too," replied Luisa. She squeezed Halle tighter. "Sky-big, just like your dad."

Halle's phone ringing pulled the pair from their sweet embrace. As Halle moved to see who was calling, Luisa made light jest, "It's probably Jason calling to say the exact same thing you wanna." Yet, Halle didn't smile. The second her eyes locked onto Mona's name on her screen, calling her, Halle felt her heart drop.

"Uh, no—" Halle looked down at the name on her screen and immediately lied, "it's not Jason, it's about Spencer."

"Oh, you go ahead, then," Luisa said. "I'll get out of your hair, baby."

Holding out until her mother had left the living room, a false smile soon dying off of Halle's face, the girl then answered the call. She raised the phone to her ear and spoke. "Hey, what's up?"

"I think someone's in my yard," Mona said, instantly panicked.

"Wait—" Halle's heart dropped, "what?"

"Someone's in my yard," Mona repeated, more frantically now. "I swear I saw a hoodie, but when I looked through the window, they were gone."

"Okay, lock the doors," Halle advised, already up and gearing up to leave.

Mona confirmed, "I have done."

"Barricade yourself in the bathroom or your bedroom or something, alright?" Briskly, Halle snatched up her keys from the bowl. "I'm on my way to yours." Peeking into the kitchen, where her family were preparing for dinner, Halle said, "I have to go, it's about Spencer." Her words were rushed, "I love you and I'll call you the second I hear something—" Her parents barely opened their mouths to question Halle before she was heading out the front door. "Okay, I'm leaving now," she said.

"Halle, one more thing," Mona said, breathless. Her reveal held weight, a crashing down as she admitted, "Alison lured Bethany to Rosewood."

This time, as Halle shut the door, it slammed shut. The bang was a blow. It swept the wind up under head and knocked it right out of her lungs. Shock sank in. "Hold up, what?"

"Alison knew about her mom on the Radley board, how she was spending more time with Bethany and about the horse in Bucks county," Mona listed out reasons, hectic and logical. "Alison set her up. She was jealous and she wanted Bethany dead." An almighty justice overwhelmed Mona. "Alison is A, and now I can prove it."

Her keys clattered in her grasp while Halle raced to her car, almost slipping on the snow. She was shaking, trembling as she tried to select the key to the car. "Okay, okay, I'm coming now," she said. "You need to send a SOS to everyone else, get them to yours." Carefully, as she swung the door open, Halle instructed, "Tell 'em I'm on my way now."

The panic in Mona sent shivered down Halle's spine. "Can you hurry? I'm really scared, Halle," Mona fretted shakily.

"Mona, I'm gonna be five minutes," Halle said calmly. She shut the door and buckled herself in. "Just— Just lock the doors and barricade yourself in a room, I'm coming." Quickly, Halle switched the phone to speaker, dumbing it on the passenger seat before she started the engine. "I'll be five minutes, I'm—"

A loud creak cut Halle off. Then, slowly, a timid-sounding Mona came, "Mom?"

Mona's gut-wrenched scream rang out. Terror pierced it — and Halle. "Mona?" Halle snatched up her phone. "Mona," she said louder. "Mona! Mona!" The call ended. "MONA!" she cried. In a frenzy, Halle repeatedly tapped at the screen. She tried calling Mona back but was set to voicemail immediately.

Kicking up the car, Halle's panic drove her. Her breathing quickened as she pulled out the drive as great speed. She took rapid, sharp breath, hyperventilating while she took to the icy roads of Rosewood. Her driving is chaotic — haphazard — in the thick snow. She was dangerous, racing towards Mona to save her. As she sped, Halle perilously picked up her phone. She pressed at the bottom button until her heard a light chime.

"Hey Siri, send text to Aria, Em and Hanna — SOS," Halle directed. "Get to Mona's now, Alison is A. Send."

After, Halle threw her phone. She didn't care where it fell. She cared about Mona. She cared that something bad was happening. That she couldn't stop it. Her heart pounded fast, thumping wildly in her chest as though it was going to burst through bone, flesh and skin at any second. With the Vanderwaal house in sight, Halle served without any indication. Her hand gripped the handbrake and she yanked down hard with a crunch. Her foot slammed down on the brake. The wheeled screeched as the vehicle skidded to an emergency stop. Halle heard the metal rim scrape against the curb and cringed.

Then, Halle dived out of the car. She swung the door open and ran. She abandoned her car with the engine on and the key still inside as she sprinted to the rescue. The front door was open, so Halle burst in. "Mona!" she yelled. "Mona, it's me!" Halle's eyes scanned the area; everything was untouched. "Are you here? I text—"

Above a dull thud pricked her ears. "Mona!" Halle darted into action. She rushed to the stairs, her chunky heels bounding up them. "Mona!" The green of Mona's bedroom peeked out from the agar door. Halle slowed. Trepidation caught up to her and she felt her breathing become shallow. Cautiously, without a weapon, Halle reached the door. It creaked when she pushed it open.

She didn't gasp. Halle's eyes merely took in the bloody scene and widened. The horror shrunk her cold. Her body was drained of warmth. On the floor, a giant pool of crimson soaked the carpet. It leaked out, spreading and spreading until it reached the tip of Halle's shoes. There, in the middle of the massacre, Mona laid helpless. Stepping closer, Halle trembled. She was mindful of the blood — the sheer amount of it — and started to crouch down. Her two fingers were glued together, ready to be placed to Mona's ghostly skin, at the neck. Halle was halfway there when the door creak.

In a flash, Halle's head whipped around. She saw streaks of blonde before an object was thrust down into the side of Halle's skull. Crunch. Halle was hit. Her vision went dark. Her mind was blank. She fell and hit the ground, her body rested beside the lifeless one of Mona Vanderwaal.

•

A ringing stirred her. At her head, a searing pain burned hotly. Halle woke in agony, penetrating through flesh. Despite being awake, her eyes struggled to open. They were too heavy. Halle underestimated the strength she needed to will to open them, and when she had it, Halle couldn't make sense of her blurred surroundings. Her vision was unclear.

The hand in front of her was fuzzy. She swore hard that it was hers. Using it, Halle tried to push herself up but failed. She crashed down, slipping into a wet substance. It coated her weak arm slickly. She wiped it, cringing at how it caused her shirt to stick to her stomach; she recognised the sensation as recent. Yet, Halle persisted. Trying to stand again, this time, Halle managed to get that same hand on top of the bed. She locked on top of the rail and used it to hoist herself up. Her head went light. She swayed forward, uncertain of her movements. A wave of nausea hit her next. Then, the throbbing, Her head stung, crucifying her as she reached for the point of impact.

"Ow."

Halle winced at the touch. Her fingers scarcely graced it, but the pain crippled her. Her face was wound up, contorting, as she wretched herself further onto the bed-rail for support. She kept slipping.

Her fuzzy eyes, finally adjusting, glanced down to the floor. The substance she had slipped in — was laid in — was blood. A massive circle of it drenched the rug and the floor. Hazy confusion floated over Halle, unsure to how this all could be from her head. She stared down at it. At the shape of her body; how it smeared the blood and wiped it across the wood. It hurt Halle to think. It was agony to cast her mind back to what happened. That one spot on her head burnt like it was on fire.

Where was she? Halle didn't recognise the room. She couldn't even recognised her own hand twenty seconds ago. She hoped it would come to her. Her brain ticked and fizzled. Her head swelled with every thought. Where was she? Where was she? Who had a green room? Who's blood..?

Mona.

Mona, Halle thought.

Then it hit her. Halle remembered finally. She remembered the pool of blood and Mona was in it, lifeless. The spot was empty now. Mona was gone. Her body was gone. It puzzled Halle. She stumbled backwards, losing her balance, and collided with the wall. The blood, smudged, was still there, but Mona wasn't. Her stare dropped down to her clothes; the slick red soaked through her clothes. Halle's hands were bloody too. She was covered in it. Did she do it? Did she hurt Mona?

Again, Halle's vision blurred. Tears fogged her eyes, filling fast. The panic rose, climbing, clawing up her throat. It choked her. With a blink, water spilled down to the red and Halle wiped her shaky, blood-saturated hands on her white shirt, leaving prints on it. Her mind told her to run. To call the police. She tapped her jeans pockets but came up empty. She didn't have her phone.

In her heightened confusion, Halle attempted to walk. She stumbled again like a child just learning to first walk. She bumped into the wall and couldn't walk in a straight line. The bannister kept her upright as she ventured to the top of the staircase and rounded it. The stairs gave her pause. Halle debated it, with the throbbing increasing badly. Maybe...

"... M—Mona?"

Halle's voice was weak, hoarse. It came out like a scratch. A feeble plea for help, which went unanswered.

All alone, Halle had to do it independently. With wobbly legs, and an iron-grip, she began her descent down the stairs. She took it slowly, carefully. Halle used her clutch on the bannister to ease her way, yet, the faintness came out suddenly. Her head hurt. It stung. She let out a sharp wince. Her grasp loosened at the brutal contact and Halle fell. She thudded to the stairs, tumbling down a few, grateful her butt softened the impact.

Her head rung; the spot where she was hit even more so. A tiredness overwhelmed her. Halle's dazed state baffled her. She couldn't think clearly. Then, she connected with the living room. Gone was the pristine interior she saw last night and when she entered. Halle couldn't recall the mess before. She would've, surely. Halle would've seen the blood splattered on the floor and up the walls. She would've reacted to the broken furniture that had been thrown across the room. She would've screamed the moment she saw the red handprints on the pillar.

But Halle didn't scream.

Halle didn't remember screaming when she saw the blood. She didn't even gasp. The only sound she remembered was one that haunted her still.

Crunch.

Then it all went black.

Swallowed back the acid that crept up into her mouth, Halle fought the urge to vomit. It burnt her throat. Her mouth tasted vile. Again, she was overcome with tears but, somehow, Halle found the strength to stand. She summoned it — willed it upon her and her violently shaky legs — and Halle crashed out onto the street. She was lost, bewildered entirely, as her feet trod over the crisp snow. Her world was spinning. Her head was spinning. It rotated so fast she couldn't keep up. Once more, she looked down at her bloody hands and clothes. Her neck whipped around, eyes startled as the laid upon the blue house. She stared at the open door, remembering the horrors she left inside, and Halle once more returned to her hands.

They were her hands. But it wasn't her blood.

"Halle!" Emily's panic was muffled, on deaf, ringing ears. She rushed over, eyes bulging at the frazzled state Halle was in. "Oh, my—"

Aria reached her next, freezing when she came too close, wary of the all the bloody. "Oh, my god, Halle!"

Helplessly, Halle stretched them out. She showed them her palms, pleading. "I—I don't... I don't know what happened... I..."

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" asked Aria in concern. She put one hand cautiously around Halle, steadying her.

"Halle?" Hanna had screeched her car to an abrupt stop and flung herself out of it swiftly. She ran over to them. "Halle, where's Mona? Where's Mona?" Hanna locked onto the blood and how it drenched Halle's entire left side and shirt. Tears rushed forward, and Hanna's voice gave a tremor. "Where's Mona, Halle?"

Without a word, Halle glanced back at the house. Her lips parted, dry. Her eyes were absent, hazy as from the muddled memories. She looked down at the blood again, and Hanna had her answer.

There was a scream afterwards.

Halle knew that much. When she sat on the base of the ambulance, Halle could recalled the scream that Hanna let out when she had seen the bedroom. Now, Hanna was inconsolable while Halle couldn't string together a statement for the police. All she remembered was that scream and how it would haunt her. Halle hadn't screamed like that. Halle hadn't saved anyone.

Sirens surrounded them. They were flashing but silent. The house had officially been cordoned off from the public although the public congregated in masses to watch. The street was packed, jammed with everyone who wanted to see it for themselves. Alison watched from between two news vans, a sinister sort of smirk graced her as she stayed out of sight, while the liars were face-to-face with the tragedy.

With Emily's help, Caleb held Hanna up. They loitered around the ambulance, just as Aria assisted Halle to her feet so she could be taken to hospital. Still, they all watched. Their eyes kept drifting back to the scene — at the mayhem that unravelled. Holbrook came out to the curb-side to give them more of it and reported lingered to catch the low-hanging prey.

"The investigation is ongoing, but we have ruled this a homicide," Holbrook announced. "Although we did not find a body, the amount of blood in the house would indicate that the victim's wounds are fatal. Mona Vanderwaal was murdered."

"NO!" It broke from Mrs Vanderwaal. Her cries were like a wounded animal, set on fire and called to death. "No, no!" Everyone watched as she toppled over with her tears. Officer Maple was at her side to lower her down gently, and all Halle could think was one thing.

Why didn't she scream?

•