•

"New Years' A"

The cosy streets of Rosewood were still blanketed in snow left over from their failed Christmas. It lushly covered the ground, helpfully scraped to the sides of shops and curbs to keep the roads clear. Holiday decorations lingered up until the end of the year; beautiful remnants that adorned the small town. Over head, a giant Santa and his sleigh, complete with all his reindeer, were fixed between the street lamps; yet now silver streamers and 'New Years Eve' banners hung from every building. The residents were happy and celebrating, ready to ring in 2012 with immense joy.

Thickly, the liars were all wrapped up. Their coats were heavy and warm, snuggling them away for the bitter bite of winter. As they ventured down the sidewalk together, Aria posed to Spencer curiously, "So, did you finally give Toby his Christmas gift?"

"I abstained from Christmas this year, remember?" Spencer reminded them. "When you're out on bail for murder, it just felt like the right thing to do. Besides, I think me being arrested on Christmas Eve ruined the holidays for everyone. My mom forced my dad to take down the decorations earlier, she didn't want a reminder of the Hastings' worst Christmas ever."

Curiously, Emily asked, "And Toby was okay with that, with you not celebrating at all?"

"I think Toby was just glad I got bail," Spencer retorted. "But," she sighed, "he did suggest not giving presents if I agreed to surprising each other with a gesture."

"That's sweet," Halle commented with a soft smile.

Her brows were furrowed as Hanna questioned, "Like the clowns?"

Now, Emily was confused. "What clowns?"

"Court jesters," Hanna stated, thinking she had heard Spencer correct. The group halted their movement to face her. It caused Hanna to seek out clarification, "They're clowns, right?"

They laughed. All five of them shared in light laughter, their mood merry for this crisp, snowy afternoon. Slotting her arm through Hanna's, threading them together, Halle said, grinning, "I love you, you know that right?"

"Well, duh," Hanna chimed with a beaming smile of her own. "That much was obvious." They cosied closer to each other, hugging nearer, just as Spencer spied the gorgeous window display. It captured the attention of the group, them more in-tune with Spencer since she was released. They wouldn't tell Spencer, but she was right; Christmas had been ruined for all of them when she got arrested. And after for Halle...

"I've always loved these windows," Emily fondly expressed of the small Christmas wish-tree and the dazzling presents around it.

Halle stifled a chuckle while she teased, "Em, you love anything to do with Christmas and winter vacation."

"What gave it away, the fact you can see her house from space with all the lights or the 'this girl loves Christmas' top?" joked Hanna.

With a roll of her eyes, Emily chose to ignore the bantering two. She spotted a tree outside the shop, sprinkled in snowflake wishes for the new year. A bright smile tugged her mouth up. "Let's make a wish."

"Yeah," Aria immediately agreed, "let's make a wish for Spencer."

Cynically, Spencer countered, "Guys, the New Year is not bringing me a stay-out-of-jail-free card."

Still, Emily plucked out five snowflakes from the pile. To each of them, she was gifting one out for them write a new wish as their hope for next year. Hanna, staring at the window front, was last; a sorrowful frown upon her delicate face caught Emily's attention. "Han, want a snowflake?"

"The last time I was here, I was with Mona," Hanna depressingly told them. Her eyes glistened with new tears, a frequent habit of hers for the entire week since Mona's murder. "I made some stupid joke about wanting new Jimmy Choos, and she..." Her voice cracked. "All Mona wished for was for us to always stay close. We promised to besties forever, and I let her down." A sickness yanked at her churning stomach, a coldness to her heart and eventually her tone. "Wishes don't come true, Emily. If they did, people wouldn't die."

The four others were uncomfortable at the plummet in mood — at the icy response that came from the group's usual, very own ray of sunshine. "It's only been a week, Han," Emily said. "I'm still holding out hope. We all have to."

Bitterness etched as Spencer's tone. "Hope is a dirty four-letter word," she scolded, agreeing with Hanna as she set down the snowflake. The new year wouldn't be getting her wish.

"We live in an A-world," Emily argued with them, trying to ease some of the resentment, to build back the grasp of their future. "They still haven't found Mona's body."

"Yeah, that's because A likes to bury the bodies herself," Spencer said stubbornly, as she harshly withdrew from the display window.

Spite crawled up Aria's throat, "Yeah, and then throw ice balls."

"The attention's been on Mona long enough," Halle replied, equally as sour, "Alison wants it back."

"I swear Alison is throwing this party to rub it in our faces," Aria ranted, while the liars began to walk again. "'I ruined your lives and now I'm the belle of the ball'."

"Technically, she only ruined my life," Spencer put.

Strongly, as they continued down the street, Emily refuted, "Ruin one of us, ruin all of us."

Naturally, the liars came to a slow stop. Around town, the flyers clung to every available space. The DiLaurentis New Years' Eve Ice Ball, benefiting the homeless of Philadelphia, dazzled every street of Rosewood. The kindness of their family was spoken highly meanwhile the liars knew just how performative it was. It was conditional. A hand-in-hand exchange. A give and a take. For every good deed they did, five more were done across others.

"Yeah, well, I'd rather dance on dead monkeys than go to Ali's stupid Ice Ball," said Aria, disgruntled by the extravagant show put on.

Sparing a strange look towards her friend, Spencer repeated, "Dead monkeys?"

Hanna didn't acknowledge either. She simply walked off again, unenthused by what seemed to be another episode of The Alison Show while Hanna's middle-school best friend was missing due to Alison. "Ali got everything she wanted," expressed Hanna miserably. "Mona's gone, Bethany's dead, and now she's making Spencer go down for it. We're all next, too."

Ahead of them, further down the snowy street, Aria spied a man continually peeking at them. He held a file and a pen, checking the former for some sort of clarification. Having grown used to this routine over the past month, since Alison returned, Aria asked, "Is that a reporter or a cop?"

It was only ever those two, until today.

"Neither," Spencer stated. She eyed the man cautiously, zeroing in on the items he held. "That pen's too nice," she said. "My money's on a lawyer."

Then, the man started to move. He strolled right up to them — to Hanna. He focused on her entirely. "Hanna Marin?" he questioned, just as he tucked his pen away into his warm, winter coat.

Warily, Hanna said, "Yes."

With her confirmation, the man extended out his business card. James Neilan. Halle peered over, eyes discovering the file had Hanna's photograph and information on a paper rested above it. Nervous, Hanna accepted the car and looked it over, as did her friends. This lawyer sought her out on purpose; this was more than just a person staring at them while they gossiped or a cop digging too closely to them for answers they wouldn't give up.

Spencer said to Aria, whispering smugly, "Told you."

"Mona Vanderwaal retained me to handle her affairs in the event of her demise," the man informed. "I was instructed to wait seven days after her death, then deliver this to you personally." The manila file they had locked onto earlier was gifted over to Hanna. "Happy New Year," he said, then left without another word.

Droll, and severely unimpressed, Spencer claimed, "Still the old year, pal."

After Hanna sucked in a shaky, anxious breath, she shared, "I'm afraid to open it."

"Give it over, I will," Halle grunted, half-insensitively as eagerness took over. She pried it directly out of Hanna's hand and started to rip it open for her friend. Out of it, Halle fetched A3 sheets of paper with hand-drawn layouts on them while Hanna accepted back the envelope.

"What is it?" Emily asked curiously, admiring the work.

"These are drawings of Alison's house," Halle stated, as she flipped through them. She held out the one of the attic layout to her friends, displaying the marked locations.

Keen eyes gripped at the page, and Aria gossiped, "Yeah, and all of her hiding places."

"It's from Mona," Hanna voiced in apphrension, eyes glassy when she clutched tight to a handwritten letter that was inside the file. She inhales sharply before she read aloud with a heavy heart. "'Hey, Han. If you're reading this... She's still playing the game and I'm taking to you from the grave. But I went out fighting and that's what you need to do. Promise me you won't give up, Hanna. You have to keep looking. Kisses, M'."

As Emily and Spencer comforted Hanna, Hanna closed paper and pressed it to her heart. An overwhelming sense of guilt adorned her features, welling up with deep sadness. She was reminded of her broken friendship and how much it hurt now. "I promised Mona we'd always stick together." She was suddenly overcome with a need to startle into action — to so something. "Well, you have to figure—" Her eyes shot open. "A keep souvenirs, right?"

Emily rolled her eyes and said, "You mean Alison."

Uncomfortable, Spencer pulled her coat closer to her for both warmth and comfort. She dithered, "Different name, same bitch."

"There has to be something in Ali's house that proves she killed Bethany," said Hanna, determined. "And Spencer didn't."

"I think Mona just handed us a way to give you another year, Spence," Emily realised in awe. "And your stay-out-of-jail-free card."

Halle questioned it, "You think Alison's hidden something in that house?"

"That's what this is, Halle," urged Emily severely.

In trepidation, Aria said meekly, "We have to at least try, for Spencer, for all of us." Her voice dropped in feeble melancholy, "For Mona."

Only they felt the glumness that was delivered cruelly this holiday. The liars could scarcely enjoy any of it because, meanwhile, all the seasonal jaunts were currently happening, A's fun had began last week when they murdered Mona Vanderwaal. A now could drag out their love of torture — their thrill for misery — by concealing Mona's body from her family, stringing it out for however long A wanted them in suspense for. Perhaps it'll be a could months, a handful of years, maybe forever. A would die peacefully, a ghost of a smile of their lips, while Mona would never know the same; neither would her family or friends. If they could help ease that —find a way for Mona and her loved ones to get justice — why wouldn't the liars try? Why wouldn't they do whatever they could to somehow bring Mona's peace home to her mother?

A ring bell sound behind them. Walking up the street was a great, burly man dressed as Santa Claus. He carried a rich, red velvet sack over his shoulder, a gold bell that he shook in one hand and a large bucket for donations in the other. The bell rang out, piercingly as he split the group in half to walk through, and Halle grunted at the impact.

"Ahh, crap!" Halle ducked her head, a shot of sharp noise hitting her ear-drum cruelly. It rung louder, a tinny pulsing behind her ear. It brought back the throbbing, the phantom pain from her stitches now torturous like they had been every time a loud sound went off in the last week.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked immediately.

"Is it your head again?" Emily said, checking the shaved part around the shell of Halle's ear where the row of stitches were covered with medical tape. "Do you have your pills?"

"I won't stay awake if I have them," Halle complained. "This is the first time I've been out the house for a week. I have to just—aghhh—" the bell rang out again, "deal with it," she said, grimacing harshly as the bell sounded yet again.

"Hey!" Aria's voice was louder, more stern than she'd liked, especially when the sweet, old man faced her. She ridded the attitude from her immediately. "Santa." Whereas, Aria originally stopped him to scold him for the bell, she soon realised she couldn't. So, Aria forced on a smile and decided to shove a note in his bucket.

"Thank you very much, young lady," he highly complimented her. "That money is going to be put to good use," said the santa, reaching into his sack to collect out a wrapped present for them. "For the homeless in Philadelphia," he told them, just as he handed it over to Aria, her soon discovering the wrapping paper was printed with the same as the DiLaurentis Ice ball flyers. "Happy holidays, and Happy New Year."

Her smile was lacklustre. "Happy New Year," Aria returned after a hard swallow. "Thank you."

"Is that...?" Spencer asked.

"Them advertising their ball with charity santas through town?" Aria finished. "Yep." With a dull, emotionless look upon her face, Aria tore the DiLaurentis wrapping paper off to reveal their gift. It was a small snow-globe, so Aria shook it without a thought. She watched as the snow was tossed up to then slowly settled again. It was only then her beady eyes caught onto the image inside of it and her horror grew. "Oh, my god."

Her friends had noticed it as well.

Emily asked, "Is that us?"

Inside the circular snow globe, on a glacier background, photographs of each of the liare were stitched together. They overlapped each other, photoshopped as one; their eyes either scratched out of with black Xs over them. Aria, trembling turned it over to discover the message in red. "'A takes a holiday. You should, too.'"

•

The holiday drive was going swimmingly. Pastor Ted had connected with the high school for the choir and brought them to the church to bring the community together, especially at uncertain times like theses. Hanna had dragged three of her best friends out to help after she excused Spencer based on the continuous gossip over her bail, however Aria, Hanna and Halle weren't. Rosewood needed some cheer —Hanna needed it also — so they gathered at the church, each given different duties to fulfil throughout the joyous event.

#O come, let us adore him#
#O come, let us adore him#
#O come, let us adore him#
#Christ the Lord#

The choir beautifully sung. Their audience was made up of mostly residents from the Shady Days nursing home in town, but towards the furthermost pews were regular residents of Rosewood. Among them was Halle's family, with Luisa holding her mother's hand lovingly as Nana Gloria rejoiced in the songs of church. Halle watched on nearby from the confections station, open in the right wing of the church, where the old chapel was. The doors beside it were open and a giant, white tent had been put up to house the many tables and chairs where the children's activities happened down the bottom end and hot food was enjoyed nearest to Halle. Ted had made sure heating lamps had been placed within it, keeping the cold of the winter snow out.

"So, that's the plan?" Myles asked, astounded by how careless and easy it all seemed after Halle recounted it to him.

"It's the only plan we have," Halle responded. They were by the refreshments station, serving the hot food under the silver lids. The sibling huddled to one side, grateful to be away from the fullness of their house. The holidays had brought the family together, which often meant their house was full; there was always an uncle lingering around a corner or their grandmother trying to feed them more than their stomachs could bear, or a cousin nosily reciting whatever hushed moment Halle thought was private to other members of the Brewster clan. So Halle had cornered her brother at the first available moment, which happened to be at the church's delayed holiday drive. "We know she's gonna be there, and we know for a fact she ain't leaving when it's The Ali Show."

"I see your point, but if she's A, she's gonna know," Myles put in reasonably.

"How will she know?" Halle asked argumentatively. "This is Mona—" Halle's voice lowered into a small, pushy whisper, "Mona," she said. "She gave Hanna these plans, through a lawyer. How would Alison know about that?"

"I don't know, how A know anything?" Myles proposed to her incredulously. "It's not five against one anymore, she's gotta whole ass army," he said. "We don't know who's on her team."

"Okay, but that's why I'm telling you," she explained. "Mona's dead, so what's happening with Mona's Army? It's disbanded? It's... what, waiting for somebody to step up?"

"Oh, no." Myles was shaking his head at his sister. "No, Hal, no," he refused. "You can't ask me to step up to take Mona's position. In case you're forgetting, she was murdered last week."

"No, I ain't forgot," Halle said stubbornly, eyes dark and hardened. "That's this whole thing got pushed back and I have stitches — yet again — after A hit me 'round the head too hard." She decided to grow more serious. "Come on, you were Team Mona, you were telling me two weeks ago, you would stop at nothing to get revenge on A. Here, I'm giving it you."

"Mona's dead—"

"You said we can't stop it if A decides to kill," Halle interrupted firmly. "Oh, hi there—" Halle shot a wide grin at one of the men that came up to her station. "Happy holidays!" She picked up a plate, ladled a heaping portion of each of the vegetables onto it and handed it over to the man. "If you want your meats, Pastor Ted is carving," she directed, pointed over to the other side of the chapel where they were.

When he left them, Myles got in his sharp reply at last, "Somebody is dead. Mona's dead. Somebody killed her."

Halle remained strong. "Not somebody — Alison."

Sighing, Myles said, "You didn't see her face, you just saw her hair. It's not enough."

"That's why we need to do this," Halle pushed. "I need you to reach out to Mona's Army and get them to Alison's Ice Ball tonight, so we can do this."

"They're not gonna listen to me," Myles argued. "We need Melissa, she's Mona's other general, they're equal."

"Uh..." Halle dipped her head, remembering the confession Melissa gifted Spencer via tape. A murder weighed heavy on the liars. They had solved one murder more than the police, and they couldn't tell anymore. "Melissa's off the table. Please, Myles," begged Halle, "I need you to do this for me. I'm asking you for help."

It didn't take long. Halle hadn't needed to wear him down or convince her brother over every precise, over-thought detail. He simply looked at her, sighed and caved. "Okay," Myles said. "I'll help you. I'll cover my end."

"Meaning?" Halle asked, just to be certain.

"I'll make sure the members we can trust of Mona's Army will be there tonight," Myles told her. "So will I." He locked onto his sister's softening gaze and added, "If we're doing it, we're doing it so everyone's safe and we're together."

"Thank you," Halle expressed sincerely.

"There are my beautiful, helpful grandchildren!" Their grandma's chipper voice sounded as she swept over to them. "How's it going? Myles, you do need to smile more if you're serving people," Lillian advised.

"We're just talking, Grandma, I smile when someone comes over," Myles assured her.

"Well, what are we talking about?" Lillian asked the pair, as she travelled around their side of the station.

"Tonight," Halle answered.

That seemed to make their grandmother's smile widen. "Ooh, what's happening tonight, then? Are you two going out?"

"There's a ball," Halle stated.

Lillian's face fell instantly. "You can't be serious. Not that Ice Ball," she damned. "I can't escape it," she said, as she walked further into the kitchen, gaining on her grandchildren. "Every day there's a santa going around this town asking for donations, I'm out thirty-dollars."

"You don't have to give them something every time, Grandma," Myles responded.

"And have people think I can't stand that family that much that I'll punish the less fortunate to continue hating them?" chided Lillian. "No, no—" she ran her hands down her pink scarf around her neck and down the front of her white blouse, "I'll part with the money before I had that gossip out about me," she said. "But you, dear—" she pointedly looked at Halle, "you shouldn't touch that girl, or that ball, with a ten-foot pole."

"I'm not," Halle said. "It's... for Jason."

It was a lie. Halle hadn't spoken to Jason since their argument, bar the handful of short texts she had sent him after he hounded her phone for answers. Most selfishly, Halle wanted to punish him for his lack of help, especially when he had offered it to both her and Spencer only to refuse the second it itched too close to his family. It wasn't a good reaction. In fact, Halle was acutely aware it was the worst possible one she could give him, but what could she do? The boy she adored shielded his family over, choosing blood, while Halle's spilled out of her head and she laid in a pool of Mona's. It was a horror scene; and with her white shirt stained with the red hand-prints, the stitches above her right ear — another brutal reminder of the series of concussions she'd collected over the last two years — Halle couldn't bring herself to be his girlfriend.

Mona was dead; Halle couldn't remember what happened in that bedroom; and her life changed. Her perception switched. The lies didn't matter, but trust did. Halle didn't have that with Jason at the moment.

Or herself.

"Ahh, I heard that's happening again," Lillian said apprehensively. "He was supposed to come ours for Christmas dinner, yes?"

"Well, I was in hospital on Christmas," Halle countered. "So all our Christmas plans went outta the window."

Lillian frowned. "Is that why that why that one present still under the tree?" she asked, as she slid an apron on over her head.

"Uh, that's for him, yeah," Halle claimed. "Just haven't given it to him yet."

Her silver-white brows lifted as Lillian questioned, "And I suppose you're giving it him tonight, at this awful ball his even more awful family's hosting?"

"How'd you know it was for Jason?" Halle asked her, while she watched her grandma tie her apron.

"Well, the tag addressed to Jason gave it away," Lillian said wittily, and Halle chuckled lightly.

"Right," she said.

"So, why didn't you give it to him after you got out of hospital?" Lillian asked her, curiously scanning Halle's seemingly nervous exterior.

Myles attempted to stand up for her. "She's been really busy with Spencer and the doctors and—"

"Did I ask you?" Lillian's tone was unimpressed, blue eyes judging the interaction intensely. "Do I ask your sister a question now and her answer comes out of your mouth? Hmm? No? Well—" Lillian grimaced a smile and moved on, "I'm afraid that means I'm looking for it out of her mouth. If you want to do something helpful, go help your grandpa with the presents we've brought for the donations pile," she instructed, and Myles silently caved.

After he sent Halle as sorrowful, sympathetic look, Myles ride himself of his apron and left the food station. Once Lillian was certain she was gone — and it was her with her granddaughter — her stare zeroed in on Halle. "So, you," she began.

Bracingly, Halle exhaled, "Me."

Lillian asked, "What's going on with you?"

"Since the last time you asked me? A lot," Halle answered honestly. "One of my best friends is out of bail for murder — a murder that's literally been following me and my friends around for years. I'm now suffering from my third concussion in two years and 'cos of it every sound piercing my ear. Oh, and yeah—" Halle's brows sardonically lifted to mock, "I saw a dead body."

The sigh that left Lillian sounded like she had supressed it for the longest time, an ache that finally escaped her. "Have the police said anything? Done anything?"

"I think we need to stop looking to the cops to solve anything, Grandma," said Halle stubbornly. "'Cos when have they ever helped me?"

"Halle, sweetheart—" Lillian stepped nearer to her granddaughter and pressed, "you have to hold onto hope."

"Hope?" Halle gave a painful scoff. "Did you not just hear what I said?" Speaking with crystal-clear clarity, Halle said, "I have zero hope for the cops — or the damn State Police for that matter — figuring this crap out. That's on me and my friends because nobody believes the liars," she wryly put, hurt by her tightly-wound expression. The defeat hit Halle harder than she'd like this holiday. She had eventually ran out of steam from her dad's accident, ending catastrophically with Halle covered in her own and Mona's blood. "I'm just... I'm gonna go help Myles with those presents."

"Halle--" Lillian stopped her granddaughter as she went to walk out. Her hand landed on Halle's and her blue eyes held in close on Halle's dark ones. "I believe you," she earnestly promised. "We all believe you. Your family is here, always, and I know it's gonna turn out alright in the end."

"Yeah, and we don't have time to wait for that miracle to happen," Halle replied, hardened despite the ache she had to hug her grandmother for her sincere belief. "We're wrapping this up — tonight."

"Cookie?" Aria offered out politely to one of the waters of the choir. She extended out her tray, a positive smile upon her face as three old ladies accepted one each. After, Aria walked down the aisle of the church to see Noel Kahn just walk in. Her smile grew softer, surprised, and she headed towards him. "Hey," she greeted. "Are you here to help out?"

"Here to drop off a cheque from my parents," Noel responded with a twisted expression. "My mom likes to pretend she's a big charitable person, but the family purse has deeper pockets," he joked, and Aria smiled in in understanding having seen from herself to sparseness of Noel's home-life. "Plus, this is kind of for Hanna. In memory of Mona. And my dad needs to stay clear of it due to impartiality," he admitted truthfully. "I think he's hoping to nosy in on whoever gets judge at the trial."

"If we ever go to trial," Aria countered. "Wait—" she expected him over, "doesn't his impartiality fly out of the window because you dated Mona?"

"Hence him nosing-in," Noel explained. "He wants to make sure the judge won't approve the either of the witness lists with me on it."

"Why would you be called to testify?" Aria asked him, slightly confused.

"I dated Mona," Noel stated. "And if we're still going ahead with tonight, I'm guessing we're hoping it's Alison on trial and I'm not counting on her not throwing me under the bus." He lowered his voice, getting closer to Aria's face, "She still knows about New York."

Aria gulped. "Yeah, I haven't forgot." Her eyes got glassy as she shook her head. "Did you see they've put of a date for Ezra's book being published?" she asked, and noel nodded. "Happy New Year to me, right?"

"That's also why I'm here," Noel revealed. "My mom isn't the only one with big pockets, though I tend not to spend mine on charity." It was another joke, Aria could tell by the way he grinned down at her. "I'm spending mine of you." From out of his coat pocket, Noel collected out a sleek, black box. "I remember you saying Christmas was ruined, and you still haven't opened your presents, but I was hoping if I kept it low-key and gave it to you're here, you just might make this the first one you open." 

"Noel..."

"It's for tonight," he said at her gentle tone.

Aria set down her trap on the empty pew at the back and turned back to him, smiling in jest. "Is it an Ali-decoder ring?"

Noel chuckled. "No, they were all out of those," he said. "I settled for something more about... you."

He finished just in time to see Aria pry the box open. Inside, laid of a black cushion, were a pair of silver, dangling earrings made up of shining diamonds and freshwater pearls. Aria felt her lips part, pleasant shock winding her entirely. Noel caught their reflection in her eyes, glossy from her touching gesture.

"I know you've got your dress already and I'm guessing it's silver, considering it's an ice ball," Noel expanded, "so... I thought they would go, hopefully."

"Oh, my god," Aria whispered out. "Noel." Her eyes lifted to him. "I can't— This is... This is too much," she said. "I can't accept them."

"Why not?" asked Noel. "Aria, you've had the worst year known to man, or teenage girl," he jested lightly. "You can accept a pair of earrings to ease some of that, especially if they're from someone who has money to burn like I do. Consider it an apology."

"For?"

"For what's happened," Noel said. "What's gonna happen still, with the trial." He added in, repeating her words back at her, "If we have one."

"We will," Aria hopefully replied. She lifted her hand to press her palm sweetly to his face. "Thank you, they're beautiful. But," she started, "if these are what you call lowkey, I'm afraid to ask what full-on looks like for a Kahn."

"Oh, yeah, don't ask," Noel said. "Last Christmas, Eric got Halle a full getaway to some private luxury villa in Mexico."

"Mexico?" Aria's brows knitted together. "Halle's never been to Mexico."

"Well, by time the trip was supposed to happen, they had broken up," noel recalled. "She gave him the tickets back, he cancelled the trip. The travel company refunded him everything but the deposit."

"Wow," Aria uttered. "I bet he lost out on a lot of money."

"Not as much as he would've if they went," Noel responded.

Passing them, on her way out of the church, Halle smiled teasingly. Her eyes were raised above their heads, at the small green plant hung from the ceiling. "Look up," she said brightly, just before she exited swiftly.

Both Aria's and Noel's gazes rose to it. There, hung over their head, tied together with a gold, glittery bow, was mistletoe. "Ah," Aria said nervously. She looked to noel apprehensively, a weird sort of fluttering in her belly. "Ignore her. We don't have to, really."

"It's tradition, right?" Noel said.

"Yeah, but at Christmas," Aria said in small defence. "It's not Christmas anymore."

"Look around, you'll find it is," he replied breezily. "Here—" Noel came in closer and dropped a sweet, warm kiss to her cheek, "so we don't anger the Christmas gods."

Her cheek flushed at where he kissed her. She tried to push down the heat as it spread. "There's Christmas gods?" she asked humorously.

"Well, there's santa," Noel replied smoothly. "He's gotta count for one."

Across the church, near the front, Emily played pleasantries. She have a large, genuine smile fixed to her face as she spoke with each of the lovely, old folk who talked with her after the few songs the choir sung. "Happy New Year," Emily said to one as they wrapped up their conversation. "If you go over there—" she pointed out Ted, by the refreshments, who waved with a large grin, "Pastor Ted is gonna sort you out a nice cup of tea and some hot food, okay? Thank you for coming," Emily said kindly, guiding the woman off to the vector.

Immediately, an eager Sydney Driscoll approached Emily next. She swept in, a grin on her face as she tried to stay as polite as possible. "You got a minute?"

All enjoyment vanished from Emily. "What do you want?"

Sydney wasn't completely struck-down by Emily's indifference, but felt dis-hearted from it. "So," she attempted to stay friendly, "it looks like you and your friends are working through what happened at Christmas."

Emily scoffed, "Is this you trying to find out what happened to Mona? Because if it is, that's disgusting and you can tell Jenna that if she wants to know, she can come over here and talk to me herself." Emily glared, split between the girl in front of her and the bling girl among the chatting members of their community. "She doesn't need to send her eyes and ears. She can still hear, right?"

"Jenna's not a bad person," Sydney argued, gone was her smile. "You just wouldn't know that because Alison convinced you that she was the enemy."

"No, I know Jenna is a bad person," Emily defended strongly. "And the fact you don't know that tells me she likes keeping her secrets from her minions just like Alison does. It's not surprising considering the whole reason you came is here is what she did to Toby."

"Toby?" Sydney's voice thinned, trembling. "W—What did Jenna do to Toby?"

Straightening up, Emily glanced to Jenna and her jaw clenched. She returned her glower to Sydney and suggested, "Why don't you ask her? If she tells you, you come find me and if you still think she's only a bad person because Alison says so, then... well, I don't know what to tell you. I sure as hell wouldn't know how you could look your sister in the eye after if I was you," she concluded with a hard end. "Is that all?"

Scolded, Sydney swallowed. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for what happened to Mona, and Happy New Year," she said, dejected.

"Yeah," Emily replied, but refused to say it back. Instead, Emily pulled away and walked off to go help somebody else.

Down the far side of the tent, Hanna gifted every child with a finely wrapped present. She was making her way through her list, gathering that everyone was nice rather than the choice between that and naughty. In the green and red dress with a white fur trim, that she had designed and made herself, as well as with all the other holiday costumes, Hanna said, "Merry Belated Christmas!"

It was favourite part of every holiday — gift-giving. Admittedly, Hanna enjoyed the gift-receiving part more when in her own home, however, she liked seeing the smiling faces of the children in this settling more. "Okay," she called out, "where's my friend Claire?"

From one of the kids tables, having heard Hanna's voice, Riley smiled. She paused her crafting of paper snowflakes to nudge her best friend's arm. "Claire," Riley said to the girl with the pink hearing aid. She set down the scissors and signed as well as spoke, "it's your turn."

Claire smiled. "Thank you," she signed back. Hurrying out of her chair, leaving behind her drawing of a jolly santa, Claire headed over to where Hanna welcomed her with a large grin. She gave over the present to the ten-year-old, the girl she recognised as one of Riley's friends, and said, "I haven't signed since fat camp. My bunkmate was hard of hearing." Fluttering her hands up, then folding one to bring the other up with her hand cupped like a 'C', Hanna wished, "Merry Christmas."

The brightest smile Hanna ever did see shone on the little girl's face and warmed Hanna's saddened heart. She watched as Claire skipped back over to Riley, returning to their table, and boasted happily about the present the church had given her. Their joy was contagious, spreading across their cherub faces, and causing Hanna to smile fondly. At their age, her closest friend in the entire world was Mona. Their bond so so strong, so sweet, that Hanna never thought it would break. Although, it did. It broke when Hanna was broken out of it by the promise of friendship from Alison. She gave up Mona overnight, traded her in for a more popular model, and only made her way back when Alison went missing. Now, Hanna's heart ached at the disregard. None of this would've happened if she knew how special it was to be at a table for ten with her one best friend; the other were empty but their hearts were full.

Walking directly towards her, an unimpressed glower to his face, Caleb came over. He was dressed similarly to Hanna, in an elf's costume that neither of them got to wear last week after the drive was cancelled and reorganised for today. He carried a large red sack of more presents. At his appearance, Hanna found some amusement. "What's wrong?"

"I'm pretty sure that some kid peed on me in Ted's grotto," he said irritation, making her laugh. "And that mean, little girl—" his eyes fell to the table he passed on his way in, "she keeps calling me dumb-dumb."

Hanna stopped laughing. "What mean girl?"

"Ali's little mini-me," Caleb told her. "It's the same girl Halle told me Riley wouldn't invite to her birthday because she's a bully."

"She's bullying Riley?!" Hanna was immediately angered, eyes darkening. "Which one? Which girl?"

"Not Riley, but her friend," Caleb said, and Hanna felt her chest constrict. "Right there—" Caleb pointed out at light brunette from the table behind the one where Riley and Claire sat, perfectly fabulous curls even at ten, and an attitude that stank, "there she is," he said.

As Hanna examined the bully over, she witnessed an event much like the ones she had been a part of before. The girl was looking at Claire with four other girls at her table, as their obvious leader dumped on Claire out of pure nastiness.

"Call her anything you want, she can't hear you."

The giggle set Riley off. Much like her sister, she chose defence. "No but I can, Addison," Riley chided. "And you're sounding real mean."

"Ooh," Addison mocked her, "like is care. "

"You oughta be—"

"Oi," Hanna interupted Riley. Her eyes were set on the malicious, little girl she now knew was called Addison. "Get over here," she ordered. She walked a few steps, hovering near the table where Halle's little sister and her best friend were. Hanna turned to the five girls at the other table. "All of you."

At once, the group of young girls rose and travelled to meet Hanna's wrath. Naturally, like Hanna had suspected, Addison presented herself in the middle. She was their centre. Their world. They adored her, listen to her, learnt from her. It was happening earlier than it did to Hanna. She thought of Halle and of all the harsh unpicking she had done as well as herself; Alison's claws were deep in Hanna's flesh, but Alison was in Halle's bloodstream. The longer these girls were friends, the worse they became, and Hanna saw it as her duty to end it now.

"I'm only gonna say this once," Hanna warned. "You mess with Claire or Riley, you deal with me."

Addison was unphased. In fact, she mocked Hanna for the intimidation attempt. "I'm shaking with fear."

Hanna saw it as pathetic. She saw right through the nastiness — she had her fair share of bullies to be off-put by at Alison's wannabe — and said, "You know, you better start looking over your shoulder, because you're making a lot of enemies. And in Rosewood, bitches get buried."

That was the first time the smile was wiped clean from Addison's smug face. She visibly gulped down the threat while her friends reacted more severely, cowering almost. "This place blows," Addison said to the four behind her. "Let's get out of here."

Spying them girls go to follow, Hanna stopped them. "Hey, you guys, don't need a leader," she sweetly promised all four. "You just need each other."

"I said—" Addison raised her demanding voice at the ones she called friends, "let's go!"

The four were in between, torn. Hanna was one side and Addison was on the other. The former could see it all play out the way it had with her friends — how they ditched the people who truly cared about them for what they thought was better. It wasn't. It was never better. It wasn't even real friendship. It was conditions and cruel comments and several years of hating herself while the very worst things happened to them. At their age, Hanna wasn't like Riley. She didn't stick by her first friend when something 'better' came along; she chose Alison over Mona, and Hanna was fearful these young, impressionable girls would repeat the cycle.

Only, they didn't.

Surprise hit Hanna in her most sensitive spot. She watched as one-by-one as the four made their way to the empty seats around Claire and Riley's table. They did the complete opposite to what Hanna did and chose the table with friendship pouring out from it, already with a solid and whole foundation. Hanna saw as a two became a six — how the girls joined onto Claire and Riley rather than coax the latter from it.

"Losers," drew out Addison bitterly. She walked up the aisle of the larg tent, making her way back towards the main building of the church. She saved her glare for Hanna, who took it with ease because next to her was something much greater — more meaningful.

"Well—" Caleb joined her side, "I would say that you put the fear of Hanna in her," he commented.

With a sigh, Hanna told him, "Well, Mona used to say when someone shows you who they are, believe them." She tore her stare from the bully, who had stormed off in her loss, and Hanna finally looked to her boyfriend tenderly. "I don't think people change, Caleb. They just get better at hiding it. But—" Hanna's gaze was sad, "mean girls stay mean."

Knowing exactly what she meant — and how much strength it took for Hanna to get to a place where she could openly admit to it — Caleb gave her soft smile. His arm slung around her shoulders and he pulled her in close. Caleb hugged and comforted Hanna, placing a kiss to her head. This was about more than just Hanna standing up for Claire and those girls; it was about her standing up for herself. And Mona. From it, Hanna did the one thing she could never do before.

She stood up to Alison.

•

A thousand twinkling fairy-lights, with crystal tinsel hung from them, were strung up across the vast ceiling. Fake trees were positioned around the shiny, white room, dusted in snow while icicles littered the archways of igloos. In the centre of the grand ballroom, a white pavilion with the ice-like dance-floor house many dancing couples. The beautiful frosty scenery was a perfect analogy to how the liars' relationship with Alison felt: ice cold and frozen in time. They were melting out of it — far too warm for the cold touch she had on them prior.

Under the pavilion, the liars collected. Carefully, they surveyed the room, all dressed up to match the theme. Halle's mini-dress, tight to her form, had a low-sweetheart neckline with off-the-shoulder puff sleeves made a white mesh, decorated with freckles of glitter. Despite its shortness, Halle was flustered. Her eyes had found Jason the moment she stepped foot into the glacier. Her exposed skin prickled with his stare, roaming her figure in this dress. With his eyes on her, Halle was completely bare. Vulnerable entirely for him. All he had to do was reach out his hands and touch her, and Halle was his.

Conjoining closer to her friends, Hanna sighed, "I still don't see Ali anywhere."

"She's probably waiting to make her grand entrance," Aria mentioned.

Dryly, Emily added, "Timed to the perfect song."

"Her folks are here," Halle said, to get it off her chest. Her breath hitched as she consumed the sight of Jason in a suit. Halle had always liked him a suit, but she loved him always. "The reveal can't be too far away."

Hanna replied, "Well, we can't leave until she gets here, so..."

Holding back a grimace, Aria wondered, "Why is it Christmas themed again?"

"Because Mona stole the show from her first one back, now she gets a repeat," Emily said through her clenched jaw.

After an uneasy inhale, Spencer lowly said, "I'm gonna go have my picture taken with Santa Claus." She sent them a reassuring smile — a secret signal that she's oiling the cogs in their well-thought out plan for tonight. At that, the liars each parted also. They scanned their surrounding with apprehension. The liars knew that Alison had an army now; they couldn't trust anyone.

The line was shorter than Halle expected it to be. From a distance, over by the bar, she analysed Spencer closely. Halle watched as Spencer took her turn to lightly perch on santa's lap. The santa, who they liars knew was Lucas Gottesman all dressed up immaculately, and Spencer dazzled with camera with their smiles, then Spencer's head turned in. They conversed discreetly.

"I think you already know what I want," Spencer started, a playful comment more so for onlookers than it was for her.

"And I think you know I'll do whatever I can to help you get it," Lucas swore, just before the bright flash went off.

Then, Spencer lowered told him, "Hanna, Halle and I are headed to her house the second Ali gets here."

Lucas kept his earnest stare set on the girl on his left knee. "We'll make sure she stays here, Spencer." To convince the eyes around them, Lucas gave a loud belly-laugh and petted her arms, "You've been a very good girl this year. Santa won't let you down this new one, ho-ho-ho!"

"Lucas," Spencer spliced through his show, a deep concern outpouring from her, "Toby said that Ali was building her own army. Be careful tonight. We can't trust anyone." With that delicately put, the air swirling with fresh anxiety, Spencer rose from Lucas's lap and walked away.

Spencer travelled straight to Halle, who held out a champagne flute out to her friend. "Thanks," Spencer said, as she collected the gold drink.

"It's non-alcoholic, I've already faced that disappointment," Halle commented.

"Good, because we need your detective brain fully sober," Spencer replied, before she took a sip. "Lucas knows to be careful."

"I think everybody knows to," Halle mentioned. Her eyes drifted to the other side of the room, near the silver, enchanted forest and she found her brother alongside his boyfriend. They were also scanning the room, hyper-aware of what was going down tonight. "We can all feel it."

"It?" questioned Spencer.

"The change in tide," Halle said truthfully. "We're either gonna be safe on shore or swept out to drown."

"Oh, wow," exhaled Spencer, "and I thought I was the cynical one. You are far worse than me."

"I'm allowed to be," Halle muttered, then raised her glass to her lips. "I'm the one she hit 'round the head among other things."

Sensing Halle's sourness wasn't just about Alison, Spencer's stare ventured across the ballroom. She found Jason easily, him sulking down at a table while his parents chatted with some residents that had come out to support the cause. His tie was looser now, his eyes fixed on the space between the glass of water in front of him and Halle. "You could talk to him," Spencer suggested. "I know he wants to talk to you."

"I wouldn't know what to say," said Halle. "Besides, I don't need a distraction tonight."

"Like you didn't need one at the hospital either?" Spencer pointed out knowingly. "Aria told me he showed up the next day and you sent him away, you didn't wanna see him."

"I had just seen Mona's dead body, Spencer," Halle snapped irritably. "I didn't wanna see anybody."

"And after?"

Halle glanced over this him, her tone and gaze saddened. "It's hard to talk to somebody when you know... what their sister is and they don't believe you."

"You don't know what Jason believes," Spencer said.

"It's his sister," Halle challenged. "I told the police I saw long, blonde hair before I was hit. I didn't see her face, but I know it was her. I told the cops that, too. It only makes sense if it's her."

"Because of what you and Aria did That Night," Spether guessed.

"I said it the day Mona died, Spence," Halle reasoned, troubled massively. "I said to Jason that if she hurt Mona or any of us again, I'd put a rock to her head again. Now Mona's dead, and she's the one who whacked me. Alison's winning, and Jason won't believe that it's her. He's her alibi, the cops told me."

"Hey-1" Spencer switched up, facing Halle head-on, "what he believes doesn't matter right now, alright? What matters is you love him and he loves you. You gotta decide, do you wanna start the New Year not talking to him? Wasting time not being with him? Because, trust me, you don't wanna do that, you'll blink once and you'll be in handcuffs for a murder you didn't commit." Spencer's eyes drifted to the pavillion, where Hanna and Caleb dance lovingly together. "I mean, they get it. They're not waiting around."

"You think I'm waiting around?" Halle asked, her brows quirked up.

"No," Spencer said insightfully, "I think you're pushing him away."

After Halle swallowed another large gulp of the fake champagne, she groaned, "Lord, you sound like my mom."

"Maybe your mom's right," Spencer extended out supportively. "And if she's backing Jason after everything, you're definitely in the wrong."

Her stare remained wistful. Every second apart from Jason felt like a slash to Halle's heart — most importantly, her ego — while she was faced with couples everywhere. If anything she was glad that both Emily and Spencer were alone as well, so it made it easier on her. Yet, Halle was drawn to the lovers, or would-be lovers in the centre of the room. She watched as Hanna and Caleb danced, their eyes locked on one another's, so connected with every step and each smile. More cautious of the newness, Aria learnt how to move with Noel, them engaging in the sweet ritual that came with a crush. On the far side of the dance-floor, Myles was with Danny. They, too, danced together, swaying along with the song. Halle had barely noticed what was playing until it started to reach its peak.

A smattering of murmurs errupted from all over. Halle saw the white lights drag across the floor up towards the grand staircase, overshadowed with white archways and twinkling snowflakes, then the several beams became one as they landed on her. Alison DiLaurentis. She appeared like a mythically creature, summoned by the triumphant chorus, at the top of the white stairs. People started to look over, in awe to capture Alison in her prime. The dark grey dress, bejewelled all-over in silver crystals, was unlike anyone else's. It was just like Alison had imagined — how the liars had predicted. Timed perfectly to #This is my Fight Song#, Alison shined as her self-proclaimed belle of the ice ball.

Together, the liars banded. They drifted away from the dance-floor and stood together, in a line, just in front of it. Their five opposed the other five gathered at the top of the towering staircase, overlooking everyone else. Alison had replaced them. Yet, as Halle fell to the end, she glanced to her right. She saw her friends and counted them. She compared the image of them to the one of Alison and the two pairs of girls accompanying her, in their dresses of lilac and turquoise. Halle realised the group was never meant to be even. Alison was always in the middle. Mona's words rang in Halle's head, scratching away at those familiar prangs on insecurities. She was replacing Halle. In Alison's mind, she could only ever see her as the centre and a doting four surrounding her.

"Who are those other girls?" Hanna pulled Halle from swimming among her dark thoughts of being outsed.

Their eyes stayed on the faceless girls beside Alison, their own faces hidden behind masks. It was like Alison wanted to put on a show — to have everyone watch them and stare. Alison felt the most comfortable when people looking at her; the trouble started when they weren't. She relished in the glory and all the attention. The liars knew that when the vast room stopped and every stare there was set on Alison, their ex-friend was truly the happiest, and so began their greatest distraction.

Where Alison walked, the four with her did too but a couple spaces behind her. Alison purposefully glided slower, making every step count. She was smiling widely, lovingly embracing her family when she reached the floor. Her mother was the first to hug her, then her father afterwards. Jason hung back, an obvious distance between him and them. His eyes travelled elsewhere, trying to place Halle within the crowd of over a hundred.

Tucked away, under the shelter of guest flocking towards Alison, Spencer looked to Hanna. Lowly, she whispered out the first phase of tonight's plan, "Let's get out of here while everyone's still basking in the glow of Ali."

Halle glanced up towards Myles and nodded her head, signalling she was leaving now. After Spencer stepped down, she did also. Hanna went to follow, but Caleb stopped her. His hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her to a halt.

"Hanna." They kissed as a parting goodbye, and Caleb said, "Be careful."

Once more, for the sake of her breaking heart and touch-starved soul, Halle's eyes found Jason. Again, there was space between him and his family; a bored, dejected look graced his handsome face. Hidden were his hands, fisted deep in the pockets of his suit-trousers, while he gaze searched for Halle in the sea of people. He wasn't aware she was leaving, skipping out over one of the icy bridges with Spencer and Hanna, passing a white-cloaked figure that watched their every move. Jason was just hoping for a slither of Halle. To see her. To speak to her. To maybe have one dance. He hadn't know she had slipped out of his touch until much later.

•

It was cold. Each of the panes of glass in the windows of the DiLaurentis house were frosted over and outside snow continually to fall, adding to the freezing temperature. Halle could see her breath in front of her, white and misty in the air. She shivered in her short dress, jealous that at least Hanna and Spencer had their legs covered while Halle's were exposed. Far too cautious for their little break-in, Spencer had already warned the other two with her about turning on the lights. The house had too appear dead, dark and cold. Nobody could know the three were there, searching, rumbling around Alison's hiding spots, plotting to bring down Alison by hopefully using the contents they find.

A tap to Spencer's shoulder caused her to jolt up. She gasped out, whipping around to scold Hanna is a loud whisper, "Jeez, Hanna! Do not sneak up on me like that."

"I'm sorry," Hanna apologised.

Halle made light of the moment, still whispering, "Jumpy tonight, ain't we?"

"We're literally committing a crime while I'm on bail for another," Spencer retorted, "I'm allowed to be jumpy, especially tonight."

With her wary eyes scanning the frosty living room, Halle became very aware of where they were and what they were doing — and most importantly, who they were doing all this against. She joined the two in their shallow, short breaths. Her heart beat faster; roared with dread. The blood rushed throughout Halle's body, warming and pulsating every nerve, adding to her churning fear.

"Okay, if we're the only ones here, why are we whispering?" Hanna pondered, though it was still spoken quietly.

Spencer answered, "I don't know.

"Can we just talk in a normal voice?" Hanna confessed, "Because this is spooking me out."

Slightly shaking, Halle urged, "You first."

As Spencer's head fell at a tilt at the mild bickering, she chose to be the one to break the volume barrier they had given themselves. She handed each of them a floor-plan that Mona had hand-drawn and had later delivered to them. "Here, you take the upstairs," she said to Hanna. "I'll take the downstairs. And Halle..."

"I take the basement," Halle said with a clenched jaw. "Yeah, I know." She rolled her eyes and muttered, "It's like I've never seen a horror film. Give it over," she caved, as she practically snatched the paper from Spencer's extended hand.

"Okay—" Hanna shivered terribly, "on a creepy scale, how high would you rate breaking into Ali's house?"

"On a scale of one to ten, it's a twenty," Spencer conceded.

"Let's just get it over with." Halle directed, "The quicker we do this, the quicker we can get the hell out of here."

•

"What's she doing now?"

The question came from Noel. He was standing around with Aria, his back angled ever so slightly to cover Aria's petite frame from Alison's beady eyes. They pretended to converse and enjoy the evening all while they kept up with the heavy surveillance the group had on Alison.

"She's just stood there, still," Aria said, miffed. "Like, it's her night and she's off in a corner."

"Technically, it's her family's night," Noel corrected, trying to be humorously. "It's DiLaurentis on the tin."

Aria shot him a hardened look. "I'd like to take a look in that tin."

"We all would," Noel replied, and he sighed when Aria's left him again to return to Alison. "Hey—" his tone lifted, "you wanna dance? It'll look less suspicious if we're dancing."

"If we're dancing, I can't see her properly," Aria told him. "Plus, I'll get distracted," she admitted. "I don't wanna be distracted tonight, not with Alison."

"Why would you get distracted by dancing me?" Noel asked her sincerely, and Aria's gaze softened. Her lips parts, a strange swelling happening in her chest like her hammering heart didn't have the space to work anymore. "Aria," Noel pressed. A grin etched across his face. "Do I distract you?"

"You're distracting me now," Aria returned swiftly. "Please, Noel, we need to— Okay, okay, she's moving," she announced to him. Stretching her neck, Aria monitored Alison as she discreetly pulled away from the spot she had fixed herself to walk through the snowy archway, entering one of the private lounges. "She's moving, hold your place," Aria instructed him forcefully, then slipped off to follow.

"Aria..."

Noel's plea fell on deaf ears; Aria was already off. She slinked through the crowd, confidently weaving to reach where Alison had disappeared to. Deciding to play it smarter, Aria didn't go for the same archway that Alison went under. Instead, Aria travelled further down, towards end parts of the two giant, sweeping ceiling-to-floor drapes that encircled the private lounge. Her curious fingers pried apart, and Aria peered through the small gap she had created.

Alison waited only for a moment. She twirled around, a graceful smile upon her glittery face, as someone approached her. A man in a santa's costume, thicker and more expensive-looking than any other Aria had seen tonight. Aria's stomach dropped as she watched the santa, without a beard or grey wig, enter Alison's personal space, his hand snaking around her waist before he pulled Alison in for a kiss. An awful, tight knot appeared in Aria's gut, an uneasieness that came with trying to figure out why the man's walk, frame, hold all looked familiar to her. She recognised that same shade of brown hair that peeked out from under the hat but couldn't place it.

Pulling out her phone, Aria raised it to take a photograph. She held it — as steady as she could with her shaky hands — and snapped several pictures of the pair kissing. Aria let the drapes fall as she chose to zoom in on one of the photos she had taken, even more baffled by what she had just witness. Alison had never mentioned a boy — a man — she was romantically involved with before, not since she had come home. Zooming in closer, as the slither of a pale jaw, Aria asked, "Who is that?"

Whoever it was, Aria felt it was important enough to warn the others. Fast, her heels clicked across the shiny floor as she heatedly made her way to Emily. "Hey," she said breathlessly.

Emily turned to her in shock. "Aren't you supposed to be on A-watch?"

"I was — Noel is," Aria defended. "But you need to see this."

"What?" Emily asked, immediately alarmed at Aria's panic.

"I just saw Ali kissing Santa Claus," Aria revealed, puzzling Emily enitrely. "Now, I doubt she's still there, but I took a picture—" Aria frantically unlocked her phone and showed Emily the image of Alison making out with the man dressed as santa. Aria ordered, "We need to text the group, tell them to take pictures of every santa here so we can figure out who this is."

"Did you not see his face?" Emily asked, eyes bulging at the photo that she zoomed in on tightly. "I can't make out much from this."

In defeat, Aria sighed, "I was at the wrong angle. I could only see Alison, not santa."

"Okay, send it to me," Emily instructed carefully. "I'll find Myles to tell him, you tell Caleb and Noel, and right now, I'm gonna go take my picture with Santa Claus. Wait—" Emily's heart stopped, "we're sure this isn't Lucas?"

"Em—" Aria gave her a come-off-it kind of look, "Lucas is like two heads shorter than this guy, and he's got a full of santa-beard going on. Plus, the DiLaurentis are paying him to keep his ass to that grotto, I seriously doubt Mrs D is letting him off it to go kiss Ali."

"Right, you're right," Emily said, easily accepting. "But I..." Her eyes went back down to the photo, zooming in as much as she could on the man's face. His jaw, his mouth connected with Alison's, the tongue that poked out to meet Alison's own. "I feel like I know him."

"Yeah, I have the same feeling," Aria said, her hand falling to her stomach to ease the ugly knot formed there. "Let's just..." Aria shook the dreadful unease from her as best she could, "carry on with the plan."

"SOS if you need me," Emily advised.

Aria inhaled, sharper now. "You, too."

The two liars split. They parted to walk off in different ways. Emily directed herself towards the snowy grotto. The line was longer than she expected for a measly photograph with Lucas Gottesman in a wig, but Emily reserved judgement from the queue. She kept it aimed at the two mystery women either side of santa; their faces were hidden beneath masks like they had been since they arrived with Alison earlier. Emily wondered who they were, recognsising their walks and frames as ones she knew.

"So, where's she disappeared to?" Jason slid in next to Emily. "Or am I meant to buy that Halle's just in the bathroom?" Knowingly, he angled his head to face her, a look of disbelief already on his face. "With Spencer and Hanna."

Emily focused ahead. "I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, Emily, you guys really should've thought of a better cover," Jason almost scolded them for their foolishness. "Last week Halle accused Alison of killing Bethany Young, now she's here? Well, she was here. Now I'm wondering where she is. Look—" Jason moved to block Emily's view, "I'm concerned, okay? I need to know you're not planning anything stupid tonight."

"It's not stupid," Emily countered with a harsh glower. "And neither's Halle. God, she was the smartest one of us for wanting to cut Alison off first."

"See, that's why I know there's a plan," Jason remarked. "You wanna cut Alison off, but you all showed your faces. That tells me something and if you're not gonna tell me, I'll find someone who will," he said, eyes dark and determined.

Meanwhile Aria hastened towards the dance-floor; she recalled the last time she saw Caleb, he was on the other side of it beside the bar. Her shoes hit the polished ground eagerly after she spied him. Caleb was exactly where she left him. She was about to charge over when a hand landed on her shoulder. It stopped her. Aria tensed, her eyes widening. At the unwanted touch, now no longer clapped to her left shoulder, Aria turned to discovered Detective Holbrook.

"You're on my list, Aria," he said, somewhat ill-fitting for her to hear from a state police officer. She dragged her wary stare down his attire: the undone Santa Claus look, without the white hair and beard and with no shirt other than a visible vest. Still, Holbrook continued, "The naughty one." Her lips remained together, sealed. Holbrook made her uncomfortable and currently, it wasn't just because of his profession. So he attempted to lighten the obvious uneasy feeling he detected from her. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"Yeah," Aria nervously chuckled and said, "not as surprised as I am to see you."

Briefly, his eyes left her to scan the nearby surroundings. "It's a charity ball," he said. "Giving back to my community."

Aria couldn't stifle her scoff. "I didn't realise that Rosewood was your community."

"The town has a lot to offer," Holbrook replied. "It's starting to grow on me."

Her throat gave an involuntary clench; she tried to compare his shade of hair to the brown Aria recalled on the head of the man Alison was kissing. After all, Holbrook was dressed as santa. "That's spoken like a guy who maybe met a girl that he likes," she commented. "That or Stokholm Syndrome has finally kicked in."

He laughed, but only shortly. Then, his amusement dropped. Holbrook looked directly at her and asked, "What brings you out tonight, Aria?"

With a half-shrug, Aria said, "Same as you." She dazzled him with a small smile. "It feels good to give back."

He narrowed in on her answer. "I don't know why I have such a hard time believing you."

"Maybe it's because you're hearing conflicting stories, maybe you're believing them too," Aria breezily responded. She locked onto him with courage. "Maybe she's a better liar."

"She?" Holbrook asked.

"Yeah, she is—"

"Hey—" Noel's hand slipped around her waist, a more comforting touch than the one that startled her before, "there you are," he said to Aria.

She glanced up at him, a thankful but anxious smile on her face. "Here I am, you found me," she said, putting on extra sweetness to her tone. "Did you... Did you need me?"

"Uh, yeah, I managed to bribe the woman at the line for santa," Noel lied convincingly. "You know my mom wants that photo of us tonight."

"Oh, yeah, I... I remember," Aria said, as she caught up with his spin to get her away from the detective. "Yeah, she really wanted that photo." Her eyes went to Holbrook, an apologetic look upon her face. "Sorry, we have to—"

Holbrook ignored her. His focus was elsewhere now. "Noel? Noel Kahn, right?" he checked in, and Noel nodded.

"That's me," he said with that signature Kahn-grin, seemingly unphased by the call-out.

"You were at Radley on the twenty-third," Holbrook recalled. "The night before Mona Vanderwaal was murdered. And you—" he looked to Aria again, "were there that night too," he recounted with ease. "I spoke to you."

Aria's jaw ticked. "You did. You accused me of being there to help Spencer, you arrested her the next day."

"And now she's out on bail," Holbrook returned.

"She should be exonerated," Aria challenged. "She's innocent."

"Are all of you?" Holbrook pointedly asked her. "Of everything?"

Her eyes didn't let up. She stared at him, hard, and Aria said, "We have to go get our photo taken."

"Yeah, you should," Holbrook said, as he pulled back slightly. "That's a pretty dress." He spared a glanced to noel. "I'm guessing it's you who has good taste."

"I wouldn't be here with her if I didn't," Noel smugly boasted, his hand still on Aria's waist to keep her settled.

"Good answer," Holbrook complimented before he back off entirely.

The pair watched at the state detective retreat from them. Slowly, and carefully, Aria raised her photo, swiped for her camera, and took an image of Holbrook. "Got you, bitch," she muttered under her breath.

•

After Halle had searched the dank, cold basement, she returned to the ground level of the DiLaurentis house. She carried three ziplock bags with her; inside each of them was a wad of cash. "So, there's this," Halle announced to Spencer, who was on the floor of the living room. She threw down the bags and said, "Must a thousand in each of them."

"Well, it's a get-the-hell-out plan if I've ever seen one," Spencer commented. "Ali can make a quick getaway whenever."

"Yeah, but where does it come from?" Halle asked.

"Who knows," Spencer replied with a shrug. "She's probably blackmailed someone."

Finally, Halle clapped eyes on what Spencer had found. On the floor, laid out in front of Spencer, Halle spied the cut-out pieces of newspaper ads. With her brows knitted together, a crease appearing between them, Halle said, "What's all this?"

"Regurgitated history," Spencer chided with a bite of annoyance to her tone. "Alison's talking to somebody through the personal ads," she explained, "I'm trying to date them."

Heels sounded against the wood floorboards. Hanna descended the stairs and entered the living room to join the two. Her stare inspected a blue passport. "Does the name Holly Varjak mean anything to either of you?" she asked when she sat down on the sofa. As she sat, her thigh connected with the bags that Halle had placed down. "Whoa, whole lot of cash," she commented, awed by the sight of the vast green.

"Yeah, well, there was a lot of paint cans," Halle mentioned. "The bags were taped under the lids."

Hanna hummed, "She really knows how to hide things, huh." Her gaze then travelled from the cash to their friends on her knees. "Spence?"

A look was spared up from Spencer, her far too busy trying to figure out the order of the ads. "What, Hanna?"

"If Ali needs to get out of town in a hurry, she's ready to go – as Holly Varjak," Hanna explained, her holding out the passport.

Intrigued, Spencer collected it. She held her flashlight up to the passport, examining the item briefly before she scoffed. "She's writing her happy ending," she said dryly, then past it over to Halle to look at as well.

"To what?" Hanna curiously asked.

Halle rolled her eyes at the photograph of Alison with dark hair and dressed up perfectly to match Audrey Hepburn's character, including the pearl necklace. "Breakfast at Tiffany's," Halle stated.

"Probably the movie, not the book," Spencer inserted. She looked up and recounted to them, "Ezra always said that she was his Holly Golightly, and Paul Varjak was the guy who convinced Holly that it was okay to be loved. So, in Ali's manic mind, they got married," she finished with yet another scoff.

It floored Hanna, her insanely impressed. "How do you fit all of that information into your one head?"

"It's a different sort of smarts, Han," Halle reassured. "You can recognise a designer from a pair of boots, no label. Or what kind of fabric was used to make Drew Barrymore's dress at the Ever After premiere."

"It wasn't actually a real dress, it was made up of scarves by Ferragamo," Hanna proudly corrected her friend, smiling towards the end when she realised how uplifted she felt as her own set of 'smarts'. She sent that same smile towards Halle, then her stare fell down to the floor. She saw Spencer pick up one specific ripped piece of paper; 'You know where to find me' along with a phone number was printed upon it. "What are those?"

"Alison was talking to somebody through the personal ads," Halle answered.

Spencer expanded, "Like she did with Mona back when Mona was A."

A low rumbling of a car engine was heard outside. The girls stilled, frozen while they waited. They heard the engine be killed before a ping broke their silence. Spencer's phone lit up with a text from Toby and after she checked, her eyes grew large. "Jason's back."

Panicked, Hanna questioned, "What do we do?"

"We give him a distraction he can't refuse," Halle told them, straightening up.

"You don't have to do that," Spencer said. "We have enough, we can sneak out the back and—"

"We have nothing tying Alison to Bethany," Halle interrupted firmly. "If you go down, we go down after you. I was the only witness, Spencer, and I can't remember much so let me help you," she pleaded. "Find that connection," she ordered, fierce in tone. "There's still hiding spots, keep looking. I've got this," said Halle, as she sorted out the neckline of her dress. "I didn't wear this for nothing."

Spencer nodded and advised, "Okay, but go out the back way and come out of my gate."

In a hurry, Halle fled for the back door. She quickly— and carefully — climbed down the rear porch and started to trudge through the snow. She was freezing. As she walked fast, more snow came down and Halle dithered. The white surrounding her was getting deeper by the minute, and Halle was certain by time she made it to Spencer's gate, her feet would be blue from the cold. Halle ran through the bushes and the clear pathway was there. She past through the unlocked gate, that the liars were set to use as they gate-away later on, and she ventured onto the Hastings' property. When Halle got closer to the secondary gate, the one that would take her out the street, she shot a look up to the window. Toby, in his wheelchair, was positioned at their lookout; he wielded a camera as his eyes into the DiLaurentis house. Halle shot him a confident thumbs-up before she exited.

The fresh snow crunched under her heels. It was thinner out front, the road having been cleared unlike the backyards, only now it was rebuilding. Halle felt her feet were like icicles, toes frozen solid like they were in a block of ice. Once more, she shivered then her eyes lifted. As they rose, Halle was met with Jason. He was beside his car, locking it, ready to go up the porch to her house rather than his, when he heard someone approach. Turning, Jason's breath visibly caught. His stare set on her, in that pretty white dress, the snow gracefully floating down around her, resembling some sort of an angel.

"Wow..." His heart stopped for a moment. His entire body still, relaxed upon the sight of her in front of him. It didn't matter how many times they talked or how long he had known her, when Jason looked to Halle, it was always like the first time. "You look... Wow," he uttered breathlessly.

"Well, that was a nice reaction," Halle responded as she continued towards home. "Kinda makes freezing to death worth it."

"That one reaction?" he questioned, an eyebrow cocked up at her.

"All I needed," Halle promised him. "One from you."

Jason gave a light chuckles, then he recalled, "I went looking for you, you left the ball early. Wasn't even midnight."

Her lips tugged up playfully, easily covering where he dug. "Doesn't every Cinderella leave before then?"

Naturally, Jason's eyes fell to her feet. "You still have both your shoes."

"I didn't have anybody to leave them for," Halle told him. "You see, I was a raging asshole to my boyfriend last week and I ain't stopped being that to him since as some sort of awful, mean punishment because..."

"Because?" Jason asked, voice full of hope and interest.

"Because I'm tryna push him first this time," Halle shared truthfully. "So he doesn't hurt me again when he leaves."

A beat passed between them with Halle's confession drifting among the snow that settled to the ground, on the sheet of white. Jason paused, absorbing her words. "You think I'm gonna leave again?" he asked. "After what I said at the motel, that I wasn't gonna ruin us again?"

"Yeah, but you promised me that the first time, too," Halle defended. "It... It ain't so easy for me to trust you — and I get it — I get that that's my issue. But it's my issue with you," she said. "I don't trust you're gonna stay when things get hard again 'cos you've given me no reason to. The first time I understood, but, Lord, Jason," she couldn't help but curse, "you left without saying goodbye. You showed up again, I took you back again. Then A came for you—and I know A tried to kill you in that elevator, I know — but A tried to kill me too and—"

"I asked you to leave with me," Jason interrupted her. There was strength to his voice, firmer to make her see. "I begged you to come with me the last time. I didn't want to leave you. I wanted to leave with you, and, yeah, I know that wouldn't have worked out because you're too loyal and goddamn stubborn to leave your friends," he said. "But don't you dare," he cautioned her seriously, "don't you for second think that I didn't think of your every day I was gone." Jason stepped closer to her. "That I didn't do everything I could, including looking further into Radley, to get back here — to get back here, to you. I was coming back to you, always."

Halle felt her heart ache at his words. She knew he meant them. She knew it was obvious that it was always her for Jason. She was only ever the one for him. Halle had no doubt in my mind that Jason wanted her — or them — and even when they weren't together, she was still his one; and he was hers. However, they were merely words. Words Halle had heard him say before, and Jason still left.

She looked at the space between them covered in four inches of snow. Her feet sunk in it, as did his. Despite its colour, it felt like it was a pitch-black abyss opened up in that space and Halle would have to take the biggest leap of faith to get to him. She thought of Spencer. And of Hanna. They were in the house — his house — scouring through Alison's hiding spots trying to find a way to pin both murders on his sister because the liars believed she did them. Halle knew she couldn't tell Jason that; she trusted him with her, but not with Alison. Not with his family.

At the silence, Jason continued, "I know it's gonna take some time for your to trust me again–" her phone rang and Halle didn't even look down at it as she declined the call to hear Jason out further. "Trust that I won't leave again, but I'm gonna do whatever it takes to prove that I'm ready to be with you, because I know it's that I want. I've never forgotten it either. So, if that means I have to protect you from my family, or whatever you're doing tonight, then I'll do it. For you."

Halle was acutely aware of what tonight meant — how important it was. She knew the moment he stepped inside his house, Jason would know what the liars were actually doing. He already knew they were up to something and was there most likely there because of it, yet Halle also knew she couldn't tell him everything. She couldn't tell him that they were doing this to clear Spencer's name and to muddy Alison's, so Halle made a sacrifice.

For Spencer.

"I know what I said before, but I don't need to know everything," Halle began. "If you wanna protect me and your family, and whatever their connection is to Radley and... Bethany, then okay. I'll accept it," she said. "I'll accept it and I'm yours again. You just gotta show me I can trust you." Halle braved the distance, walking to him and surprising Jason by putting her dithering fingers to his jaw. She placed herself in his freezing hands. "Show me."

•

Collected in their little extended inner-circle, the group shared their images of every Santa Claus they had taken that night. Yet, Aria kept coming back to the same one. As did Noel. The very same one they had both encountered, who was taking a little too good of a interest in them nowadays.

"If it was Holbrook that Ali was kissing tonight, it would explain a lot," Noel said, eyes trailing down to his side where Aria wholeheartedly agreed.

"Yeah," Aria added, "he's onto to us like she's told him more than we saw in that lie detector video."

Caleb began, "And if he is on her team—"

"The Ali Cats," Emily interrupted, and they all looked to her as though she had ground another head out of her neck.

"The what now?" Danny asked her, his face crinkled up with digust.

"It's what she's calling her army," Emily told them. "I spoke to Jenna and Sydney, they're two of the dolls Alison brought with her."

"Which leaves the other two to be Cindy and Mindy," Myles gathered reasonably. "They were who Toby was following when he got hit."

"Guys, forget the twins, alright," Caleb half-snapped. "Alison has a state police officer on her side. That's why Spencer's about to go on trial for murder while Ali's weaving her way through a winter wonderland," he said spitefully, head nodded towards the snowy maze they had watched her enter fifteen minutes ago. "We're lucky she didn't get to Tanner, just her rookie."

"Nothing about Detective Holbrook is rookie," Myles argued. "He's gunning for you, Halle told me."

"Yeah, he cornered her outside The Brew a few nights ago," Emily recalled, folding her arms over her chest. She shot a look towards Caleb. "Playing the same friendly game he did with Hanna."

"Yeah, but why go for Halle?" Danny asked the group, just as Aria's flickered up to Noel. She spied the concentration on his face, his stare peeled off towards where Holbrook engaged in pleasant conversation.

Myles had the answer for his boyfriend. "Because of Tanner," he sighed. "Jesus Christ—" His eyes were blown wide in realisation, at how he had missed it. "Halle confronted her at the station. When the 'Liars' article came out, Halle had a few choice words for Tanner."

"I'm guessing she didn't hold back," Caleb said.

Shaking his head, Myles replied, "It's Halle — she doesn't waste words."

"Noel?" Aria broke his trance. Her wonder got the better of her, after watching him stew for too long in silence. "What is it?" she asked, causing everyone else to turn their stares to him as well. "What are you thinking?"

"Well," Noel gave helplessly, "if Holbrook is helping Alison, I wanna know when it started. What I missed. I was working with her up until the explosion, so it couldn't be before that."

"He's a replacement, then," Aria spoke.

"Or not," Emily said, stunned by her own memory. Her eyes bulged. "Oh, my god." Dropping her arms from her stomach, Emily informed them, breaking free further from the hold, "I promised Ali I wouldn't tell, because I thought I was protecting everyone." She said, "But CeCe showed up in new york that night, and Ali helped get her out of the country."

"Yeah, I know," Noel connected his piece. "Ali gave her the passport and money I had for her."

"You saw CeCe?" Aria asked, astounded he had kept it from her.

"I saw them both, together," Noel shared. "And there's no way they weren't in-touch the whole time Alison was away, they were too close." He expanded deeper, "I saw her with you guys that night and that felt like first— second meeting. Theirs didn't."

"But," Myles pin-pointed his question, "do you think Holbrook could've been in on it?"

"If he is with Ali, I think he helped CeCe escape," Emily said. "And he did it for Ali."

"No—" Caleb shook his head at them, disagreeing, "that doesn't add up," he said. "No, Hanna said it was Holbrook who called the theatre that night, that he only thought she was alive at that point."

"Yeah," Aria said. "We saw his face when Alison walked into that station, Holbrook wasn't a part of it then."

Myles voiced his troubles, "So when did Alison turn the police, before or after she tried to blow up my dad?"

"We could ask her," Danny said, his hand on Myles' shoulder while his fixed gaze found Alison coming out of the haze. "Looks like she made a friend, too."

The group searched the same spot that Danny had alerted them to. They located Alison with ease. Their eyes locked onto her blonde hair, elegant pinned with silver gems, as she walked alongside another figure in a pure white cloak.

Panic hit Emily. "They're heading towards the exit."

"So is Holbrook," Noel pointed out, just as the man crossed the floor after he had swiftly abandoned his conversation.

"You guys follow Ali," Caleb instructed. He nudged Myles. "We've got Santa."

"I'll grab Lucas," Danny said.

Noel looked at Aria. "I'll cover the parking lot, in case they get past you."

The group separated with ease. They split off to complete their orders, all alert and on edge to do this as swiftly as they could. Myles was a lot faster than Caleb had intitially given him credit for. Halle's older brother quickly went sweeping towards the undone santa and stopped him in his tracks. "Detective Holbrook," Myles called out. "You free for a chat? It's about my dad."

"Sure," Holbrook replied, and stepped off to talk with Myles as Caleb joined him. The latter used his back to conceal Aria and Emily when they sped past the three for the exit. "Is this not a family matter?" Holbrook asked, questioning Caleb's presence.

"Oh, he's practically family," Myles dismissed lightly.

Caleb smiled and joked, "Just waiting for Lu to sign the adoption papers."

"Now, to my dad," Myles said, harder now.

Smoothly, with anxiety in ball within their throats, Aria and Emily gained the advantage. They narrowly avoided Holbrook, now trapped in a heated confrontation with Myles and Caleb, and the two girls closed the gap between them and Alison and her cloaked friend. The liars were hot on the heels of them, even as the latter two tried to make a sharp left down the staff corridor. Aria and Emily took it, too. Their hearts raced with the idea of catching Alison like this — red-handed, in the middle of an A-plan.

They hurried down the slender hallway, dodging the pillars and weaving chaotically through it. Their pace hastened after them. Determination overwhelmed every muscle in their bodies, urging them forward until they very last corner. From around it, Lucas and Danny appeared. Alison and her friend froze. As did the other four. Even in his full Santa Claus get-up, Emily could tell something was wrong by Lucas' face when she thought they had won.

"You're leaving your own party, Ali?" Aria asked hotly.

Emily added, "What's the rush?"

Slowly, the two figures turned around. The hood of the white cloak was dropped, but both their faces were covered by those Ali-mask from Hector Lime. The same as Mona had worn on the Halloween train. The same was Alison had made for her friends. The very same A had used in their torment.

"Alison?"

The timid tone of Emily caused the two girls to react. Now, Aria and Emily were close enough, they saw the same as what a dumbfounded Lucas and Danny saw; neither of these two people were Alison. Simultaneously, the Ali-masks were removed with great care. Instead of Alison, there stood Mindy in the very dress Alison had arrived in and her twin Cindy was cloaked in the white. Aria's fearful eyes shot to Emily, who had done the same. They had lost.

So where was Alison?

•

Her lips were hot on his. Halle chased Jason's kisses manically, desperate to soothe the touch-starved parts of her that grew spiteful in their week apart. She was selfish with him, concealing her secrets while she covered her mouth with his. Halle needed this. Jason needed her. His hands gripped at her waist, at the fabric of her short dress, while they kissed feverishly in the falling snow. All her warmth came from him. Jason lit a fire within Halle and she came alive with blazing flames each time.

Halle had long forgotten about the plan. There was no wasted breath between them. Truly, Jason was her distraction rather than her distracting him from the search going on within his home. Both Spencer and Hanna were gone from her mind. The only thing to ease Halle — erase all the pain, suffering, and the stark change in her sense of self — was Jason. He was a balm to her agony. The only reason Halle remembered why she was kissing him, in the snow, outside of the DiLaurentis house, was when he pulled back at the bright, white light repeatedly hitting his face.

"What is that?" Jason asked. He eyes were set, peeled to Spencer's bedroom window where the flash kept going off. "Who's in there?"

"Oh, my god."

The blood rushed from Halle's flustered, heated skin. All at once it vanished. Halle looked for her phone, set aside on the bonnet of Jason's car while they had been making out, and she snatched it up to see the horror of the messages she had missed.

SOS.
We need to get out.
A has a knife.
From: Spencer

"What?" Jason turned to her. He noted as the fun had disappeared from her; in its place sprouted alarmed worry. "What's happening?"

"I— I ain't got time to explain, but I need your keys," Halle said, stammering over her shaking nerves.

"Why do you—?"

Halle blurted out, "Hanna and Spencer are in your house right now and so is A. A has a knife, Jason, so I need to get in there, alright? I need to—"

"We need to get in there," Jason cut her off sternly. His actions were quick: he brought his hand to the back of her head, pulling her in so he could kiss her head, before Jason opened the boot of his car. He snatched out the crow-bar, handed it over to Halle and fetched out the wrench for himself. After he locked his car, he told her, "Keep your hand on my back, stay close."

Halle's head pulsed with the flurry of blood. Her heart hammered at her chest. It was furiously loud, deafening, as they ascended the porch. Like he instructed, Halle fixed her hand to his back so she couldn't lose him nor him her. She refused to remove it — or simply hover it above the place her palm planted itself. For now, with Jason so tangible to her, Halle could withstand the fear that crept up on her cruelly.

The house was deathly quiet. Jason couldn't hear a thing but the rattling of his keys after they had entered. Very carefully, he put them aside, trying to make as little noise as he could. Knowing he was connected to Halle, that he wasn't losing her, Jason kept his guard up as well as his weapon. He guided them out of the foyer, into the dark house. It was colder now, Halle noted.

They walked into the living room. Their peeled stares inspected the room and its emptiness. Spencer had left the ads on the floor, swept under the sofa, and Jason spied the broken glass on top of the piano from a picture frame. His ear pricked up. Swiftly, Jason seized Halle. He hastily pushed her backwards, forcing them to hide behind the wall. He pulled her into him; a hand was fast to clamp down on her mouth to silence her shock. Jason explained by raising his index finger up to his mouth, a silent signal to her to keep quiet.

Their backs were flush to the wall, rigid, as terror pulsed throughout them. In the mirror opposite them, Halle's eyes enlarged when a hoodied figure loomed around the living room. In fright, Halle tried to hold her breath just in time to see the shine of A's knife.

Upstairs, Hanna dithered as she reached the attic. With her tiny torch, she braved the stale and frozen air up there. She held on tight to the map that Mona had gifted her, eyes closed in on the little markings where each of Alison's hiding places were. Alison had them all over the house, she had told them as much That Summer, but Hanna didn't quite believe it until she was actively searching.

On her knees, Hanna perched to the floor. It creaked under her weight, echoing near the entrance, where the stairs were. She hated old houses for that very reason. She stepped in one place, then it sounded off in another. She supposed that was what made houses seemed haunted. There wasn't any such things as ghosts, just mad people who refused to renovate. It didn't help that every time she entered the DiLaurentis house, it felt like she was back in time, the ghosts of her old friendship haunting her.

Unhooking the cover to the trunk in front of her, Hanna checked the drawing to know she had gotten the correct one but was without a key. She shone her torch over to the right, discovering the second trunk and upon it was an old stewing kit like the map instructed. Hanna crawled towards it, opened up the box and muddled through its contents until she locate the key. Her eyes snapped back towards the first trunk, triumphant. Wondering back over, Hanna used the key to unlock the padlock on the trunk. She grinned widely when it released. Tearing it off, Hanna let it clatter to the floor, sending another creak to the stairs, and she flung the lid open. Hanna was faced with a mountain of items just shoved in there. She plucked up the first one, unsuspecting.

Excellence in Archery
for outstanding accuracy and sportsmanship awarded to
ALISON DILAURENTIS
Camp Susquehawken

Hanna inspected the wooden award, carved out of a tree trunk. She blinkered at it, unaware that Alison was gifted at archery; she had never mentioned it. Or the fact she went away for summer camp. It baffled Hanna, but she side-lined it as unimportant. She kept on digging. There, under a blanket, Hanna found a tape-player. Keenly, she snatched it up and clicked play to have Alison's voice scream at her — berate her like Alison was in the room.

"Get out of my stuff or I'll kill you!"

Fright captured Hanna. She gasped loudly, terrified. She had been absolutely petrified of Alison ever since her eyes set on the bloody pool in Mona's bedroom. Quickly, Hanna paused the tape and slammed it down, hiding it back in the trunk. Her hands shook as she tried to move on. Hanna could barely hold the paper without shaking violently. Or I'll kill you. Mona was dead. What stuff of Alison's had she been prying into to end up dead?

Bethany.

Bethany Young.

It caused a great swelling in Hanna's chest. Determination had sprouted there. I went out fighting, Mona had promised her in the letter, so Hanna swore she would do the exact same. Pushing up from her knees, Hanna was willed on by the power of Mona. She'd do this for Mona because Hanna was able. Now, Hanna had the strength to stand up to Alison; and if she couldn't do it for Mona when she was alive, Hanna would most certainly do it for Mona in death.

Mona gave her all she needed to put Alison away, and Hanna followed it. She checked the map again and went to the next marking. She was faced with a sheet of parchment over where a cabinet should be. She didn't know why, but Hanna led with her gut and tore through it. There, inside, was a Jack in the Box. She picked it up carefully and wound the handle around. A tinny sound irrupted from it in the tune of 'Pop Goes The Weasel', continuing while Hanna kept moving it. Then, suddenly, the tiny figure popped up. Hanna gasped, heart leaping. She stared at it — the freaky, little clown — and searched him over. She was unaware of what she was looking for, but Hanna trusted her urge. Her eyes caught to the name painted across the box.

"Mad Hatter?"

Immediately, her gaze rose from the toy. They scoured the attic, travelling towards the old clothes she had brushed past when she entered. There, stacked high, Hanna locked onto the several hat boxes. It struck her brilliantly. Halle was right; Hanna had a different kind of smarts and it was only her, out of them, who would read Mad Hatter and think of hat boxes as a hiding place.

"Mad Hatter."

Hanna searched all of them yet only one paid off. A circular one, decorated with green ivy upon a sky blue turned out to be filled with a handful of letters. Sitting down, Hanna flicked through them, each still in their envelope that Alison had previously opened. "God, I only had one pen pal," she muttered to herself. "Ali had a fan club."

Some were new, some were old. Hanna rifled through them, searching the top corner for dates. Among them, she spotted a piece of purple paper without its envelope. Figuring it had fallen out, Hanna grabbed and unfolded it. In an instant, her jaw fell open and her eyes grew wide.

Dear Alison,
Is it Labor Day yet? I can't tell you how grateful I am to have something to look forward to. I've been biding time with art. I found a sketchbook in the art box, and I'm just a few pages from filling it.
I'm counting the day until I can get out of here. Did you tell your friends I'm coming? I can't wait to meet them. I just want them all to like me the way they do you. It must feel amazing. I just want to feel like a normal person again.
Did I already thank you for the clothes in my last letter? If not, thank you times a million. Yellow is my favorite color.
Can't wait to see you.
XO,
Bethany.

"'Can't wait to see you'," she read aloud, then her stomach clenched at the name. "Oh, my god. Ali knew Bethany, and she invited her here for Labour Day." Hanna felt her chest rise and fall rapidly. Her breathing had quickened. She felt it overwhelm her entire body, spreading with soaring hope, as she realised what a weapon she clutched. This was proof. This was what they needed — to free Spencer — to get justice for Mona. And Hanna held it in her hand, trembling at the thought.

A creak sounded. Her head whipped up towards the stairs. Hanna hadn't moved. She was completely still, so she knew it wasn't her. Somebody else was in the attic with her. Not having the time to search the rest of the letters for more sign of Bethany, Hanna safely tucked the one she did have down her dress, hiding it within her bra. As she stood, a meek, "Spence?" left her.

Careful steps were taken by Hanna. The creaking had ceased, only occurring now when Hanna walked. She monitored each one, alligning the sound to her. Her voice caught in her throat, nervous. Hanna neared the short staricase down from the attic, peering out of the agar door. "Spencer?"

The door swung closed. A hoodied figure appeared from behind it, their face blackened out by the cloth mask, and they lunged at Hanna. A piercing scream ripped through the air. Terror struck through it, bolting through the house and towards her friends. It shook them.

Halle's eyes flashed to Jason. The panic hit her full-force, and Halle immediately sprinted into action. Her heels clampered and clobbered with each fast, forceful charge. "Hanna!" She, along with Jason, sprinted up the stairs, almost colliding head-first into Spencer. They yelped as they clutched to each other. They screamed at first — at the impact — then pulled each other in.

"Hanna's in the attic," Spencer whispered.

"Let's go—"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on—" Jason halted them. His hand came out to push them aside. "If A's up there with a knife, I'm going first, alright? Stay behind me," he directed them, and both Halle and Spencer nodded apprehensively.

They had let him go first, cautiously hovering over his shoulder with their hands clasped in each others. With the wrench up high, Jason had pushed open the door slowly, eyes alert and his body tense. He took to the smaller staircase, his free arm out to protect the girls behind him. A cold breeze hit him first. It bit at his face, and Jason's stare snapped to the window — open, with its draps flying in the brisk wind.

"Hanna!" Spencer broke free from her half-brother's protection. She dived out and towards the blonde girl laid on the floor. She crashed to her knees, panic in her lungs. "Hanna?" Spencer tapped her friend's freezing face. "Hey, hey, come on."

Halle was beside them in a flash. "No." She drained entirely. Her face now was ashen where moments ago it had been flushed and loved on. The guilt winded Halle. It paralysed her to the spot. A throbbing seared at her head, at the tender spot where her stitches laid crossed through her skin. Her chest constricted. She felt her feet plant themselves to the floor as a jolt of pain shot through her head.

Crunch.

She closed her eyes, and Halle was staring down at Mona's lifeless body. Halle woke in a pool of blood.

"Hey, please, please, please," Spencer begged, whimpering. "Wake up— Halle, do something, please. Help me."

Yet, Halle couldn't. She opened her eyes to the scene and was still frozen, petrified to the spot. She felt Jason brush past her. He joined Spencer on the floor, wary of Hanna's weak from. "Is she breathing?"

"Yes!" exhaled Spencer in alarmed worry. "She's breathing."

"Okay, Hanna," Jason raised his voice. "Hanna—" he stripped of his blazer, balled it up and placed it under Hanna's head, "Hanna, it's Jason and Spencer, we need you wake up, alright?" Jason inspected her over, searching for a wound or an explanation to why she had lost consciousnes but came up empty. His eyes looked to Spencer. "We need to call for an ambulance or—"

"No, it's okay," Spencer said immediately, sparked up with vast relief the second she saw Hanna twitch."Oh..." Spencer ran her hand over Hanna's head as the girl started to stir. "Oh, my god. Are you okay? Hanna?"

Suddenly, the blonde shot up with a sharp gasp. Her eyes blew open, terror swirling in them. They beat across from her, catching onto the sight of Halle cowering on her spot. The window was open; gone was A.

"It's okay, she's gone," reassured Spencer, and Jason remained hard and fixed to them. "She's gone." Her arms wrapped around Hanna's, cradling her in closer. "It's okay, she's gone," Spencer repeated. "You're okay. Hey, you're okay."

Jason cast his stare across the room, from his crouched position, to find Halle. Her hand was laid flat to her speeding chest, her far too apathetic for his liking as she watched Spencer comfort Hanna. His shock subsided, but the relief Spencer felt immensely didn't spread to him. Nor did it Halle. She was frozen solid, seeing red where there wasn't, and Jason's realisation leaked in at how different she was now. Halle had changed. Halle wasn't just scared of A anymore; she was petrified.

•

The heavy snow continued to swirl and bite. There was a storm incoming as told by the news that was on in the background of the Hastings' kitchen. According to reports, the snow storm was the worst in years and caused the roads to be closed in and out of Rosewood. Due to it, Emily spoke on the phone to her father, discussing how she was staying over at Spencer's now.

"Give Mom and Grandma Bea a big kiss for me," Emily said, her facing the channel-7 news cycle to watch the snow come down violently. "I'm sorry I can't be there for midnight, but I promise I'll see you tomorrow — Yes, Dad, I'll only be on the road if it's clear. Thanks, Dad." Emily smiled happily and signed off, "I love you too."

The others — apart from Halle — were a short distance away from Emily. They were collected in the living area. As Spencer perched on Toby's lap while he was stuck in his wheelchair, Caleb and Hanna took up the chaise-long. The blonde's boyfriend held an ice-pack pressed to her injured head, where Hanna had fallen back and knocked it against the floor from A startling back.

"This is amazing," praised Toby triumphantly after he read over the hand-written words of Alison DiLaurentis. "Hanna, this letter proves that Alison knew Bethany and lured her here on Labor Day."

The bittersweet joy engulfed the room. Along with the fire, the group at long felt warm despite the frost around them. At Toby's hopeful tone, Caleb looked towards his girlfriend, her already gazing at him, and they both smiled proudly. Just as Aria allowed herself to smile, thinking of the future she could have, Emily joined them by the sofa.

Toby finished gladly, "This could create enough reasonable doubt to clear Spencer."

"Oh, thank god," Aria said in immediate relief.

After Toby held out the letter, Spencer accepted it. Her stare skimmed it briefly. "I don't want to say the 'H' word, but I am feeling cautiously optimistic tonight," Spencer shared in their delight. A happy smile graced her face and was wholeheartedly matched by her closest friends. It was only interrupted when Halle entered. She came through the left french-doors and dithered, shaking her head of the snow that had fallen on her hair. Around her, she wore the blazer from Caleb's suit.

Hanna turned her head towards Halle and instantly asked, "What did Jason say?"

"Yeah—" Spencer focused her attention on that also, "is that okay?

"I told him the truth," Halle revealed. "Well, part of it. I told him about us thinking Alison is working with A and wanting proof, not about... us thinking she is A and trying to find proof she killed Bethany. And Mona."

"So, you're not telling him?" Emily asked her, pressing deeper, from where she sat on the arm of the sofa. "You're not telling him the whole truth?"

Halle nodded reluctantly. She understood that, right now, with the fracture state the group was in, Halle couldn't risk Jason knowing everything. After all, he was a DiLaurentis... and Alison's brother. "Which means he gets to keep his secret, so we get ours," Halle said, with a hard swallow.

"You'd do that?" Spencer asked her, eyes wide and soft. "For me?"

"We're a team, Spence," Halle gently replied. "We need this win more than that I need that answer 'bout Mrs D and Radley, if there even is one." They shared a bittersweet smile, each sympathetic to the other's tender parts, but Halle concealed how hurt she was by the sacrifice.

Behind them, the Hastings' mahogany grandfather clock chimed. The group of teenagers looked towards it — the two hands pointed up at the twelve. Smiles spread all around the room, bursting with a soft sort of glow to their collective happiness.

"Happy New Year," Spencer said.

Softly, Hanna repeated, "Happy New Year."

"Here's to a better one," Toby decided for them all, grinning brightly.

Spencer chuckled with him, "Yeah, most definitely."

One by one, each of them wished another 'happy new year.' They hugged, embraced and celebrated with their little, close-knit group. A family found the torment of A, bonded together through their care and want for peace. It warmly passed between them. Hope cozily wrapped them up, keeping them safe in its tiny bubble that arrived with the new year.

•

And by time morning came, it had only worn thinly. Still, the joy was there, simmering away as the liars collected on the same sofas in the pyjamas. Coffee had been poured and shared and drank by time all of them had spoken to their families. "My mom called her friend at Highway Patrol," Emily stated, as she padded over to the sofa. "They don't expect the roads to be cleared until tomorrow." At that miserable thought, Emily took a seat beside them and yanked a cushion to her lap for extra comfort.

Siting up slightly, Spencer offered, "As much as I hate you guys don't get to spend new years with your families, I'm really glad you're here."

"We are, too," Aria softly agreed.

"Kind of makes up for the worst Christmas ever," Spencer told them truthfully with a airy chuckle. "Halle in hospital—" she gestured out to the girl across from her who raised her morning in a mock-toast, "Mona dead, and me in a police cell."

"It's gotta be up there with the worst Christmas ever," Halle expressed.

"Yeah, second to Jesus dying," Hanna remarking, causing the four of her best friends to look at her oddly.

"You mean Easter, right?" Aria checked.

"Jesus died in Easter, Han, he was born on Christmas Day," Halle clarified to her humorously.

Hanna countered, "Well, it still sucks. He only got a lousy three presents for the whole thing and he kind of saved the world."

While her friends chuckled, a saddened Emily shared, "Everything about this Christmas just felt wrong."

After hearing the wheels of Toby's chair sound from the hallway, Hanna put on a smile and said, "You know, my mom always said Christmas was wherever we were as long as we were together."

As touching at it was, Spencer spoke, "Christmas is over, Hanna. It's the next year now."

"Is it?"

Caleb's voice sound from the hall. The liars looked towards it, only one of them out of the loop as he rolled Toby into the living room. On Toby's head was a santa's hat while his lap carried a tray with an uncooked turkey on it.

"I don't think Christmas is over until I've given you my gesture," Toby kindly corrected his girlfriend. At that, Spencer was surprised as she friends rose from around her and left to go up the stairs. "We all thought that it sucked you couldn't have your Christmas because of what happened, and I was racking my brain for a good gesture for you," explained Toby, just when her friends returned with boxes. "But it was there all along," he said. "If Alison can reclaim the holiday for her ice ball, we can reclaim it for you."

"We spoke to your mom and dad," Aria started, "they said we could put the decorations up."

Emily warily inserted, "As long as we take them all down again and put them in your attic when we're done."

"It's all sorted, it's always been the plan," Hanna mentioned. "The storm just worked in our favour, so we could get the decorations down while you slept."

"You did this while I was asleep?" Spencer questioned, shocked, and the girls all hummed. "Wait—" Spencer paused her merriment, "As much as I love this, who out of you lot is cooking?"

"I'm offended you're even asking," Halle replied boastfully. A dazzling smile crossed her face. "It's gonna be the best turkey of your life."

"It's gonna be the best Christmas of this year," Toby promised her sweetly.

Spencer felt her lip wobble first. Her eyes filled, glassy as she looked to him with a softness Spencer had only ever reserved for him. "Now, that is a gesture," she responded, before she broke into a large-set grin as she stood to greet her boyfriend with a grateful kiss.

"Happy New Year, Spencer," Toby wished

Spencer kissed him again. "No." Gentle, she shook her head. "Merry second Christmas. "

Soon, everybody was dressed up and were busy with their set tasks. While Halle took up shop in the kitchen, taking charge of the feast and directing both Aria and Emily as her assistants, the rest of them were left to decorate the room. Hanna and Caleb hung red ribbons around the banister, put stockings on the fireplace — that was lit and roasting — and draped tinsel on the mantel and around door-frames. Merrily, Spencer wrapped up Toby's cast as It's A Wonderful Life played in the background. Often, Spencer was found lovingly perched on his chair, admiring him sweetly for his kind gesture. Laughter and glee filled the house, outpouring from good company and even better times spent together.

A knock at the side door captured Spencer's attention later in the day, as it approached time for the evening dinner. "I got it," Spencer claimed, just as the table had been finished set up; the coach pushed forward to make space for it. Rising from Toby's wheelchair, Spencer crossed the room to open one of the french-doors to meet the person intruding on them. "Jason," Spencer said in polite surprise, "hey."

Instinctively, Halle's stunned stare flashed up from where finished collecting out the piping hot candied yams from the oven. She could spy Jason over Spencer, his frame larger than hers. His eyes met hers from across the large room, held there for a long second before Jason broke it.

"Hey," he said. He looked to Spencer. "Happy New Year."

Spencer gave him a friendly smile. "Happy New Year."

"I—" Jason cleared his throat, "I came by to see Halle," he said. "I stopped by hers and her folks said she was here." Again, his eyes landed on Halle, locked over the shoulder of Spencer. "Can we talk?"

Halle couldn't find the words but nodded. Swiftly, she removed the oven-gloves as well the apron from around her waist and set it down on the far stool. She glanced to Emily and said, "Don't touch the turkey, just let it rest. And then—"

"We've got it," Aria reassured, her being vastly more enthused sous chef of Halle's whereas Emily frowned at what she knew was happening.

"Everything just needs plating, we can handle it," Emily said with a half-smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Mostly optimistic stares stayed with her as Halle walked to the floor. She didn't bother to pick up her coat from the bannister, having been far too hot from the steaming kitchen to put it on. Discreetly, Halle joined Jason outside, closing the door after to give them some privacy at crisp evening. "Hey."

"Hey," Jason returned. His hand motioned out at her. "I wanted to check you guys were okay, after last night."

An appreciative smile crossed Halle's delicate face. "We're good," she answered. "Shaken but good. Together and, well..." Halle gestured behind her and Jason filled in the blank.

"Celebrating it seems," Jason gathered from the chaos inside, through the french doors.

"It's part of Toby's gift to Spencer, we're having a second chance at our Christmas," Halle elaborated for him, wanting Jason to understand the special, little moment currently happening behind those doors.

From his quick peek in, Jason spied Hanna sectioned off with Caleb while they laid the table. "How is Hanna after last night?"

"She's okay," Halle said. Her eyes stayed fixed to Jason. "How are you? How's your New Year going so far?"

"It's not," Jason replied honestly. "My father is unbearable and between that and Ali bragging about her party, it's ended up being a lot of her and my mom whispering in corners. It's not really giving me the family holiday I'd like," he admitted. "I know it wasn't exactly happy or without it's problems before, but... seems colder this year. Even this Alison back home."

"No, yeah, I get it," Halle understood completely. "It's hard for you — this time of year, the holidays," she expanded. "You never had a close family, not really."

Jason agreed with that, but shared, "I actually thought this year was gonna be different."

"Why?" Halle asked.

"Because of you." His answer was clear. Truthful. It omitted from him beautifully, sincerely. It never failed to surprise Halle that the most earnest things ever laid on her ears tended to leave Jason's mouth, him speaking to her like she was the only person in the world other than him. His eyes were stuck on her as if they reflected how badly he was stuck on Halle. Their hold was unattainable to others, untouched by anyone other than them; a part of each other soul's woven between. Jason felt it, that was why he reached into his coat. "I, um, me checking in isn't the only reason I came by. I... I wanted to give you this," he said, after he had dug out a white box wrapped with a red ribbon. "Happy New Year, Halle."

"Jason." Her surprise was evident. It tickled the back of her suddenly dry throat. Halle, taken aback, was hesitant to accept the box. "You're aware New Years ain't a gift-giving sort of holiday, right?"

He chuckled at her light teasing. "I'm aware, yeah," he conceded. "It was for Christmas, but... there wasn't exactly a good time time to give it you. Then, you stopped me seeing you in general up until last night."

"I'm sorry about that," Halle said. "About how I treated you after...." she swallowed down the lump in her throat, hoping to wet some of her mouth in the process. "After Mona."

"And after what happened to you," Jason reminded. Halle always seemed to forget herself when something worse happened to others. "Can I..." His free hand lifted cautiously, reaching. "Can I see?"

Halle became timid, scared. Not of him, but of him seeing and denying this new scar of hers. This was caused by his sister. Jason drew closer to her. Gently, Halle swept her hair from the right side, revealing the shaven patch she had hid well. There, following the curve of her head, above her ear, Jason was faced with the nineteen stitches. His breath caught, hating the sight of what he saw — of what A had done to her.

"It's not so bad," Halle tried to joke but failed. Her eyes were far too watery and full for Jason to buy that she was anything other than distraught of this injury. To cover her insecurity, from the hair that had been forcibly shaved by a doctor to clean and stitch up the wound, Halle quickly swept her straightened hair back over it. "Could've been a lot worse, really. And I have your gift, too," she said, seeking out a distraction. "I can go get it for you—"

Jason curled a hand around her wrist and pulled her to a stop. "I don't want a gift," he said. "I don't want you going anywhere." To her, he held out the white box, sleek and decorated with a singular red ribbon. "I just want you to have this first, before any of the other stuff gets involved."

After Halle accepted it, she smiled softly. "Thanks." Her gaze flickered between him and the gift as she undid the ribbon, uncertain of which one she was more inclined to want to watch. She managed to open it, prying lid open, to have her chest rise with a warmth. A fuzzy, soaring feeling swelled in it, and Halle's features softened instantly. On the cushion was a simple gold bracelet; in one section, a knot tied. It was beautiful. Halle admired it over, just thinking it was sweet gift, until her stare caught sight of the ribbon in her hand. Red. A chuckle escaped her. "The red thread." Her gaze was now brightly, eyes sparkling as she looked to him with immense love. "I get it."

"Yeah, I saw it and thought of you just like when I heard it and thought of you," Jason gave with such perfect ease. There wasn't an inch of hesitation to his tone as he spoke, eyes warm and loving as she gaze down at her. Never before had those perfect greens shrunk the way they did when he looked at Halle, his pupils expanding with such great, all-consuming love. "Simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less. Just you."

Her smile doubled. "I love it." She asked, "Put it on for me?"

"Sure."

He came closer. Jason collected the bracelet from the cushion, unhinged it open, and gestured for Halle to lift her wrist. She did, eyes gazing up at him adoringly. Halle saw him inhale a deep breath from standing so near to her. They drifted together. His touch was tender against her wrist as he fixed the bracelet around her, his fingers grazing her skin. Jason's stare stayed upon the knot — their makeshift Red Thread — holding it there for a long moment until Halle's own hand came up to trace the small, gold knot. Then, Jason lifted his eyes to hers, tracking up her face to see a smile there.

Slowly, his hands retracted. Slight disappointment painted Halle's face, a sad dropping in her chest. She dipped her head while she figured he was pulling away, yet surprised filled Halle when Jason's index finger hooked under her chin. Jason used it to raise her head, their adoring eyes connecting once more. His tethering to her brought them in. There it was again: that same timeless, careful tug that drew the couple closer, and then his mouth descended on hers. His thread was hers. Their eyes closed, her hand landed on his cheek, his was on the back of her head, and they kissed. It was the perfect kiss. The heavens smiled down on the lovers as snow began to float doing, giving them a repeat of the night before.

As the cold graced her cheek, which flooded with warmth, Halle pulled back. A sharp breath escaped her when she opened her eyes. His, too, opened as they parted. She smiled bashfully, eyes full of love. "Happy New Year, Jason."

"Happy New Year, Brewster," Jason returned, a smile of his own directed down at her.

"Do you wanna stay?" she asked him, finding herself wishing he would. Her gaze implored him over, begging silently again and again in her head. Halle wanted him to stay. Her heart needed him to.

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Her smile grew brighter. Halle clutched her hand around his and pulled him closer, happily dragging Jason inside the Hastings' house. The fire was roaring, the table had been set and decorated beautifully; everyone was cheerful. All of Halle's friends looked up, each of them pretending like they hadn't been prying to what happened outside, like they hadn't witnessed the kiss.

"Guys," Halle announced, "I invited Jason to eat with us, hope you don't mind."

Spencer grinned at the two. "The more the merrier."

"I'll grab another chair," Caleb said, before he left to go fetch another.

"And I'll put out another setting," Aria added, grinning largely at Halle.

Grateful for the easy welcome, Halle immediately resumed her duty as head chef. Her apron was forgotten, since everything was done, and Halle focused on helping plate the rest with Emily. They worked side-by-side, a good team even if one still looked at the other a tad different; and within ten minutes, Halle was able to present the great feast to her friends.

"New Year's-slash..." Halle aimed a wide grin at Toby and Spencer, at the opposite head of the table, "Spencer's Christmas chicken!" Halle declared proudly. The growing group applauded her hard work, with a little 'yay' leaving an excitable Aria as a response.

The table had been beautifully set. While the fire crackled away behind them, the lights were dimmed so that the food could be lit by the row of slender candles in the middle. Littering the table were the weight of full dishes of traditional foods served during the holiday — from baked mac and cheese, collared greens, butter onions, mashed potatoes, roasted carrots, cranberry sauce, stuffing and gravy — along with glasses of water and non-alcoholic champagne that had been poured already.

Just as Halle sat, Aria reached out her arms. "Okay, let's all say a prayer," she said, leading them all. Her left hand gripped at Halle's, at the head, who took Jason's on her other side. "First, I wanna say thank you for this meal, for Halle for cooking it all—" a loud cheer erupted from Caleb, causing Halle to giggle. "And for whatever great power keeps us all together and around this table," Aria mentioned, sweetness coating every word. "I'm thankful for another year with you guys. Even if it hasn't always been the best, you all are. Amen."

"Amen," Spencer said, and was followed up by a series of the same.

After, the group began to dig in. Their smile carried around the joyous table, passing and exchanging the full dishes to fill their plates. Halle did her shoddy, first-attempt at carving the chicken, laughing as gave uneven pieces of succulent meat to those who ate it. Their smiles soon turned into broad grins, radiating happiness out of every large curve to each of their faces. At one point, when the table was clear again, everyone seemed more relaxed with one another. Celebrations had been made, food had be devoured and enjoyed, conversations filled every corner of the long table. Halle settled in comfortably into Jason's side. He had moved his chair to be closer to her, him more-so at the head now. Jason's arm fell around her shoulders and she reached up to interlock their fingers together.

Clinking her fork to her flute glass, Emily gained their attention. She sat forward, her in the middle of Spencer and Jason, although there had grown a further space between her and the latter due him sticking to Halle. Emily raised her glass, signalling to the others to do the same. "To this family – May we always stay together," she toasted. "Cheers."

"Cheers!"

Glasses kissed others. The group of eight each turned to the person next to them and clinked their glassed together, then stretched humorous across the table to do the same with every single person in that room in the centre. Just as they went to drink, a light dazzled them from outside.

Hanna caught sight of it. Her brows furrowed. "What is that?"

It was followed by a loud bang, and yellow exploded across the night's sky. "It's for New Years," Jason explained.

"Oh, let's go watch," Aria said, eagerly shoving Hanna out of her seat so she could get up.

Amusement drove the group to rise. Excitement fuelled with, as well as curiosity. Caleb opened the doors to the house while Spencer helped Toby to his feet, gathering up his crutches so he could watch the sky be lit up with fireworks with them. Caleb's hand found Hanna's, them followed out by Aria and Emily. Halle pulled Jason along with her, them fixed to each other, arms entangled to enjoy it. Then, Spencer and Toby came out last.

As the fireworks burst and crackled across the inky blue, the liars and the guys eyes were drawn much further down. There, in the middle of the Hastings' backyard, rested on the snow, was a Christmas tree; at the top, a lit was up star.

"Oh, my god," Spencer voiced in awe. "Who did this?

Wrapped up in Jason, Halle's head peeked out. "Toby?"

"No..." Toby shook his head, growing confused at the spectacle. "This wasn't me."

"Well, it wasn't any of us either," Emily concluded, as she stuck out her hand to gleefully catch the snowflakes.

More fireworks lit up the sky. Loud bangs followed by cracks of bright colours, bursting and sparkling vibrantly in the night. The group sighed blissfully, all relaxing in the wonder of their new year.

"It's so beautiful," Aria commented in awe, looping her arm around Emily's.

An electrical surge sounded, fizzling, and drew their attention from firework to the yard. On the Hastings' barn, lights flickered on behind the tree. In red, words began to appear.

HAPPY NEW YEAR,
BITCHES

The wonder died away. The air turned bitter in an instant. Halle stiffened in Jason's slackening arms. She glanced around at her friends, spying their alarm morph with the dread A planted newly in them. Their happiness from the evening had disintegrated. Fear replaced it, swirling around them just like the snow. A had mightily carried their vengeance into the new year. It didn't matter how tight the liars clung to each other, or how graceful they were to be together, A was a shadow in the window, the whisper in the wind, the nagging feeling that someone was always there to ruin a good thing. Someone was always watching, waiting; ready for the next moment to pounce.

Then, two shots were fired across the sky. Their attention shifted again. They watched as red was launched up like two comets that crossed each other at the top. Another followed swiftly, and split over them horizontally in the most perfect 'A'.

•