•

"Through A Glass, Darkly"

THREE MONTHS LATER

Blood dripped down the blade of the knife into the pool by her feet. It had a warming sensation against her skin, trickling down the handle onto her wrist. Mona's body was laid on the floor. She screamed and cried and begged for her life. Her voice clawed at her throat, screeching. She pleaded with her attacker, covered her face with her hands as she knife slashed towards her again.

Halle looked down and it was in her hand. It was her hand that held the knife. She was the one watching as Mona fought for the right to live, and Halle took it from her.

Jolting awake, Halle felt a rush of cold, damp sweat drip down her back. The back of her neck was drenched with it. Her heart pounded furiously, hammering at her chest as Halle gasped for air. She wound her hand up to her throat and tried to find comfort in touching her hot, searing flesh. Halle was tangible. Her dream — her nightmare — was not.

Her mind had been torturing her since Christmas. It was on and off. Halle did it, she didn't. She, most definitely, didn't. In reality, whenever an awake Halle shut her eyes, she only saw the wisps of long, blonde hair before Halle was thwacked around the head. Crunch. Her stitches had healed, her deeper wounds from that day had not. Halle could scarcely exist without imaging it was Alison. When she walked through Rosewood freely, the same way Alison could, Halle could only see Alison's sinister smirk beating down on Mona as she hysterically pleaded for her life. It was always Alison holding the knife.

"You don't have to go, you know."

Jason's kind words came from over her shoulder. He was sat on the bed of room 1-1-6, a frequent haunt of theirs for the last few months. The only time Halle could be with Jason was mostly when they confined themselves to that motel room. The new year didn't sprinkle them with hope for a good beginning, it damned them to old habits and sent her cowering from A.

From Alison.

"I have to," Halle said, as she smoothed out the skirt of her black dress. "I can't not show my face there, Jason, it's her funeral."

"She wasn't your friend," he gently argued.

Halle turned to face him. "I was the last person she called, the last person she spoke to, the last person to—" Her throat caught. Tears raked through it — and her. "I was the last person to see her before... before A took her, and then sent that vile photo to the police."

She could still recall the weeping of Hanna while she sobbed out what A had gifted the police. Halle replayed the sound often. As well as the wail Mona's mother released on the curb that Christmas Eve day, imagining it was the same sound she made when the police showed it to her. Mona's dead body, stolen and photographed; sent to the police to mock them all cruelly. The disgust covered Halle in thick, foul grim ever since. It stayed with her. That along with the blood, she could never seem to wash either fully out.

Softly, Jason stood from the bed and trod nearer. He came to her. His hand travelled up to cup her face and his thumb soon brushed over her cheekbone delicately. "You had another nightmare," he said. "It's the third this week."

"And I'm working on it," Halle responded. "Dr Sullivan is prescribing me something to help me sleep better."

"You shouldn't have take something just to sleep," Jason said. "Look—" both his hands now cupped her face, holding her gaze up to him as Jason related, "I understand this a lot better than most. When Ali died, my mother had to take pills to sleep, and yeah, it was far better than her sleep-walking the house like a ghost, but she turned into someone I don't recognise. She became the ghost, I don't want that for you."

"When Ali died?" Halle chided. Her eyes had quickly hardened up. Her body tensed in his hold, falling rigid. "You mean Bethany. The girl your mom and Alison knew and never told the police."

"Halle, we don't—"

"Yeah, we don't talk about it," Halle snapped. She withdrew from Jason, practically pulling his touch from her. If she could've ripped it away without an argument, Halle would've. But today, she couldn't afford to fight with him, especially when she was due to leave soon. "That was our rule, I remember," she said, and heard him exhale a deep sigh when she faced from Jason. Halle looked to the mirror again, focusing on her forlorn — if not miffed — expression. "We don't talk about Bethany, your mom or Alison... Or Mona."

"I don't wanna fight with you," Jason conceded, gentler now. "Those issues aren't us. We don't need to focus on them, you agreed."

"I know I did, it's why we're here again, ain't it?" Halle said, almost biting. "Plus, I can't fight. I have somewhere to be."

Once more, Jason repeated, "You don't have to go, people will understand."

"Hanna won't," countered Halle. "I'm going, I have to go."

Jason didn't.

In her black dress, Halle attended the funeral of Mona Vanderwaal alone. Upon entering the church, a purple and white flower garland was placed around Halle's shoulders by Leona, who greeted Halle much fonder than Halle ever expected. All the liars had been given the same flowers whereas Mona's mother wore an entirely white one. It was a show of unity, of strength, of love of Mona. They all missed her, and as Halle glanced down the pew at a tearful Hanna, she knew some missed Mona more than most.

The ceremony was nicer than lot of the ones Halle had gone to, even with the horrendous media coverage flocking the church. Cameras filmed their every move as they entered and even more now they exited the church. An influx of mourners left with them, in black with their own garlands; behind the gleaming, white coffin and Leona Vanderwaal. The latter wept softly while she watched the lost hope of ever having a proper funeral — really burying her daughter — was carried across the closed road.

"They know that thing's empty, right?" Emily commented, as they walked down the steps. In her hand, she grasped at the order of service, grateful to have seen a nice photograph of Mona today rather than the one than haunted them now.

"It's a casket, Em," Halle reasoned, "it still weighs a tonne."

Splitting off to the left, the liars hovered around on the sidewalk. Hanna's stare stayed fixed to the coffin, similarly to Mona's dear mother, but she managed to speak. She explained, "Mona's mom put keepsakes in it. Stuffed animals, photo albums—" her face twitched up in mild disgust, "her old retainer."

While the coffin was lifted into the hearse, Spencer stated, "It's called a cenotaph. They have them for soldiers whose bodies are never found."

A sudden chill passed over Hanna. She covered her front with her arms to shield herself from it. "Never say never, Spence."

"It's been over three months, Han," Emily added sympathetically. "No body, no murder weapon—"

"And no arrest," Aria cut in.

"Well—" Spencer motioned to herself and lightly jested, "present company excluded. Let's not forget, I'm still an alleged murderer."

Coming up behind them, Toby had overheard his girlfriend. "Hey, don't lose faith, okay?" His hand landed on the small of her back, eyes firmly on Spencer as he had told it to her seriously. Toby wanted her to believe his words — to trust his faith where she had none. "That letter Bethany sent Ali could still make a difference."

Spencer argued with him, "No, not if Holbrook has anything to say about it. We should've told Tanner about him and Ali months ago."

"Tanner won't believe it coming from you or anyone else," Toby replied, having had personal experience with her now he had graduated the police academy to get a job at Rosewood Police Department, often working in relation to the lieutenant. "She's gonna have to figure it out on her own."

"That's unlikely, then," Halle responded bitterly.

Toby shot Halle a pointed look, silently scolding her like he would a sibling. He didn't appreciate how Halle added to, an not eased, the hopeless attitude Spencer had. "I'm gonna go and get the car," he said.

Quietly, Spencer said, "Okay."

After Toby left, the liars remained on the sidewalk watching. People watched them as well. The cameras recorded their every move, clicking consistently. Their coverage became incessant. Every week there was another story about The Liars and their friendship with Mona or their battle with Alison, or their evil antics from Ezra's book. Alison tended to hog the media most days, which none of the five were particularly upset about; not until it skewed them further. The girls were content for so many and even more feasted on them while hypocritically reprimanding the attention onslaught to them. Today, the vultures came for their next meal.

Through a clenched jaw, Halle grew fed up. "Can I say something?"

"Like what?" Emily asked her.

"Like move on, get a life, get fu—"

The clicking abruptly intensified. It was constant, overlapping, and the rustling of murmurs picked up. Their attention shifted. As did the liars. They spotted how the camera had rolled away from them to across the road; half of them stayed with Mona's mother and the hearse while the others locked onto Alison DiLaurentis. It shocked them — how she dared show up — how she strolled with her head held high, while she strolled down the path of the town pavilion in her pink, floral dress.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Aria demanded madly.

In disbelief, Spencer scoffed, "Showing up to your victim's funeral? Classy."

"She can't let the attention be on Mona for one day," Halle voiced in utter disgust.

Panic surged up in Hanna. Her stare blew wide as she spied where Alison was headed: Leona. A protectiveness overwhelmed Hanna and her feet were already moving. "You guys, we have to get her out of here," she said to her friends, and they all agreed.

Yet, they were too slow. By time, the liars had stepped down into the road, beginning to cross it, Alison had reached Mona's crying mother. With her hands clasped together, Alison approached the hearse — and the white coffin that didn't carry Mona — she claimed more audacity than any other person had ever had.

"Mrs Vanderwaal?"

Slowly, Leona turned. The tears had not yet dried on her cheeks; more always fell. Looking up, shock consumed the woman. Mid-road, the liars frozen. This interaction couldn't be stopped, and the clicking covered it massively. Reporters devoured this. The image of Leona Vanderwaal, Alison DiLaurentis with Mona's coffin as their backdrop would be on the cover of every paper and online article state-wide or further, and Alison served it to them on a silver platter.

"I came to pay my respects," Alison said. "And to tell you one more time that I had nothing to do with your daughter's—"

SLAP.

It was thunderous, rippling. It caused echoes of gasps to be felt all around. Mona's mother had slapped Alison. Her hand had swung at the teenager's face and Alison held her reddening cheek with her mouth fallen open. "Where's my daughter?!" Leona screamed. She didn't care that Alison's inflamed cheek burned from the impact or how it struck her more than physically. "Where's her body?!"

Somehow, Hanna unstuck herself. She was the only one who could manage to move while she friends stayed solid, far too shocked. "It's okay," Hanna comforted Leona Vanderwaal, who's vicious stare remained on Alison. Putting an arm around the woman, Hanna attempted to pull her away. "Come with me," she said, as she then escorted the fragile Mrs Vanderwaal from the scene that Alison had created for them.

•

Within the hour, a flurry of pictures hit the internet. It was the slap heard around America. Halle scrolled through the thousands of comments under Channel-7's video of the instance. Most of them supported Mona's mother; some called for Alison's head on a spike; then some blamed Leona for letting emotions take over. They labelled her hysterical — as if she wouldn't be after her daughter was murdered. Halle dreaded to see what The Ali Cat forum looked like. She imagined those comments were much worst, but she couldn't check. After it became clear how Halle's statement led to Alison being interviewed by the police, the vitriol on the site towards her catapulted. Halle was torn to shreds daily — as were her friends — so Nick had banned the forum so that nobody in the house could access it. He even password-locked it so that Halle couldn't get around it; it didn't spike her interest enough to ask Caleb to hack it either.

"It's a disgrace," Nick had shared his opinion on what happened.

Luisa, on the other hand, felt more strongly. "It's not just a disgrace, it's hateful, that's what it is. What she is," she said scornfully.

"What it is, she is," Halle inserted, "it's no longer about Mona. It's about that freaking slap."

Glancing over at the screen in front of Halle, Luisa was met with a slide-show of the incident. She swiped through them, a horrified glaze to her features, especially when she ended on the image of her daughter in a line with her friends. As a parent, Luisa saw it as a terrible failure that she couldn't protect Halle from the intense scrutiny into her life. There was no boundaries these vultures wouldn't cross to get their story, from following Halle to cheer competitions to reposting quotes from Ezra Fitz's Pretty Little Liars: The Alison DiLaurentis Mystery that were skewed to make Halle look bad; they followed her around, loitering, spying, stalking. The police couldn't do much either. Luisa's wrath was silenced with 'it's their job, it's not illegal'.

Her jaw slackened. "She showed up in pink?"

"Hm-mm," hummed Halle up to her gobsmacked mother. "Said she was there to pay her respects."

"In a pink dress?" Luisa asked, incredulous and unconvinced. "That girl gets more and more nasty with each year, I swear."

"Yeah, and you wanna know the worst part—" Halle looked directly up at her mum and told her, "Alison went there to tell Mrs Vanderwaal she didn't do it. At her daughter's funeral. Like her little fan-club hasn't been dragging Mona to filth on her orders."

"You don't know what Alison's behind that forum, Hal," Nick played devil's advocate. "Tanner looked into it and found no overlap other than a couple of her friends being moderators."

Halle rolled her eyes. "Tanner also looked into your car blowing up — and, oh, look, she found nothing there, either. That woman is a joke," she damned. "The whole force is."

"Toby is now part of that force," Nick said.

"Yeah, and I think he's an idiot for joining," Halle hotly put. "And you two encouraged it with that party for his graduation."

"His parents didn't do anything," Luisa said in defence. "Somebody needed to show that boy they were proud of him."

"For joining the police?" Halle returned sharply.

"For graduating," Luisa corrected her. "Come on," she sighed. She collected up the device from in front of her daughter. "Enough of that, you'll give yourself another headache," she said, mindfully aware of how frequent they were happening again.

"Can't be worse than Alison," muttered Halle.

With a forcible exhale, Nick said, "You can't go around accusing her of what you think she did."

Halle whirled around to face her father with hardened eyes. "What I think?" she threw at him harshly. "I saw her. I saw her!" Her voice raised at him. "Right before she hit me over the head. Alison murdered Mona—" her arm flung out passionately, "she murdered Bethany Young! She's a raging psychopath!"

"Who hasn't been arrested yet for a reason, Hal," Nick sternly argued. He kept his cool, collected even under the pressure his daughter thrust upon him. "In this country, it's innocent until proven guilty."

"Not in this town it ain't," Halle countered. "I've been judged guilty from the moment Bethany Young's body was dragged up from under that gazebo, so don't tell me what's done in this country because it's not true. It's not true!"

"Look," Nick tried to gently level with her, "I know what you've been through — I won't pretend to know the extent of it — but I know more than most. And you are a key witness in a murder investigation," he explained. "You can't let bias affect you. Hal, you didn't see Alison that day. You saw blonde hair. You have to remember your statement otherwise they'll rip you apart on that stand," he said out of worry. "The defence will come for you. They will hold a mirror up to every word you've said from your first statement to five seconds before you take that chair."

"It's true," Luisa agreed. "Jessica swears Alison is innocent, that she never left that house on the day Mona died." Her eyes shut. "Was murdered." She said, "The whole town is caught between a rock and a hard place. The Hastings, the DiLaurentis'."

"Well, they shouldn't be caught anywhere," Halle persisted, as she stood from the kitchen table. "Alison's a killer, Spencer's not."

Nick called her back easily. "And what about Jason?"

Her shoulders tensed. Halle faced him furiously. "What about him?"

"He's part of that family," Nick considered greatly. "He's part of them both," he added in the knowledge every person had now Ezra's book was out. "You might not be caught between Spencer and Alison, but he is. What does he say?"

"Jason says what his mother does. Alison didn't leave the house the day Mona was killed." Halle's tongue was clipped, short with her father now he had brought up the parentage of Jason as a fighting point against her. "We don't talk about it."

"Maybe you should talk about it," suggested Luisa, causing Halle's stare to flash to her. "To someone professional, at least."

"What?" asked Halle, confused. "I'm already seeing Dr Sullivan twice a week now."

Luisa shook her head. "Not that kind of professional."

"We want you to talk to Veronica Hastings about what you saw," said Nick, stunning his daughter. He told her, "It's not unusual for a witness to have a lawyer themselves to help coach or advise them throughout the trial, especially when it's a big one like this one's predicted to be. We don't want your future to be ruined by this if you slip up."

Halle recoiled. "You think I'll slip up?"

"It's the DiLaurentis's, no doubt they're combing through cut-throat lawyers already," Nick said logically. "We need to cover your back — protect you."

"We're not caught between those places, either, Halle," promised Luisa earnestly. "We believe you. We need you to believe we're doing what's best for you, too."

•

She looked scared in her mugshot. That was the first thing Toby noticed as he flipped through the case file for Bethany Young. On the news Spencer's bail was getting revoked due to Decladine, the very same company that gave Toby's family a handsome pay-out for the cover-up of his mother's death, Toby saw to it that he'd be the one to know all the facts. Although, he hadn't expected to take such a long pause on seeing his girlfriend's terrified expression in the mugshot in the file.

He had finally managed to flip the page over when Lieutenant Tanner strolled into the office that housed the fresh recruits. Toby glanced up to meet her suspecting smile and he defended having the wealth of information strewn across his desk. "Ah, it's an open file," he justified. Shutting it, his hand pressed to the top of the confident file. "I didn't break any rules looking at it."

Tanner long accepted that this was what Toby Cavanaugh would do first thing that morning. She said, "What you're looking for isn't there. It's here." She presented him with a thinner, more concise file. "The ground for Spencer Hastings' arrest warrant."

Toby reacted immediately. He seized the file gratefully and poured over its pages, ravenous to consume all the knowledge he could to recount to Spencer later.

"That was unsealed today," Tanner shared. "Unfortunate due to the funeral, I'm aware." She sat herself down, on the desk opposite Toby's. Her arms were crossed as she explained to cut his time reading, "What convinced the judge was a statement from a witness. Someone who saw Spencer Hastings in the DiLaurentis backyard with a girl. A blonde, dressed in Alison's clothes, the night that Bethany was buried in that yard."

"Who was the witness?" he asked.

"Jessica DiLaurentis."

Shock displayed across Toby's strong features. "Mrs DiLaurentis saw Spencer in the backyard and told the police?" He saw her nod, and suddenly Toby was hit with bewilderment. He knew Jessica had seen Spencer; she had threatened Peter with it to get him to change the will for Jason. But Toby now knew that Jessica did report it. It was an additional part to one of her initial statements. "Where's the statement been for two years?"

"Where it has been for two years, deliberately hidden in the files of the officer who took the statement," Tanner stated. "Darren Wilden."

It all made sense. It clicked for Toby, having sat silently on the knowledge of Melissa's video confession. He knew that Melissa convinced Wilden to stay quiet about what happened That Night — directed him far away from Spencer for protection — whether Wilden did it for that reason or for Melissa was another question. Either way, in his end, Wilden turned on Melissa. And on Spencer. Wilden was utterly adamant it was Spencer who had done it, and now Tanner was as well.

"We found it just before Christmas Eve," she informed. "Wilden has suppressed it, but he kept it in his personal notes, along with an outrageous theory that all Alison's friends were in on it."

Toby tried not to be peeved at the suggestion — at how close he was to it. He picked up the file and defended, "He may have buried the statement, but Mrs D is still alive." Rising from his seat, Toby walked around his desk to return the file back to his superior. "What stopped her from telling someone else?"

"It did, for a while," Tanner responded. "She's standing by that statement now. So—" she looked to Toby, him standing in front of her, "why do you think she didn't tell anyone after That Summer?"

His answer wasn't one he could share, not with the state police. He couldn't tell them that Peter Hastings had bargained with Jessica DiLaurentis to change the will — one that would give Jason huge motive to kill his sister for her involvement — that Jessica sold out one child for another. Toby still struggled with it. It made no sense to him that Jessica would make the deal — that she would pressure Peter to do it, resulting to blackmail — if she truly thought that Spencer was guilty. Why would she hide it? Why would she allow Wilden to keep it quiet? Toby wondered about it tirelessly. Some things irked him more than most; he'd do absolutely anything to get justice for his mother's death, even betraying Spencer to A, so why didn't the DiLaurentis's feel the same over a daughter?

"Wilden was crooked," Toby gave as the first, plausible answer he had. "Someone could've gotten to him about the statement, somebody who'd want it to go away, and they paid him to bury it."

As she stood, her heels clipped at the floor. She stared up at the young officer, green but acting more knowledgeable than half her team. That — and his insider knowledge of the liars — were why she came to him. "Who do you suppose would do that?"

"Jessica DiLaurentis."

Tanner's brows arched up in surprised. "You think Jessica DiLaurentis would pay Darren Wilden to keep her own statement buried, the same statement she is now sticking by?"

"I do," Toby confirmed. "She had every chance to come forward. She could've told any other officer what she saw — the lead detective. She was working alongside the police for months while Alison was missing, she had so many opportunities to follow it up and she didn't — why?"

"Why indeed," Tanner agreed. She leant neared and asked, "I don't suppose you have answer for that, too?"

"Well, Bethany was a patient at Radley, Mrs DiLaurentis was on the board," Toby expanded for her. "She was a huge part of Bethany's care and even took her horse riding in buck's country. Mrs D knew her very well. Better than members of the Radley should be involved with a patient."

"It always seems to lead back to Radley, doesn't it?" Tanner recalled almost miraculously at how it linked. Although, her tone told Toby that she had already figured that much out, but was merely digging closer to him for his opinion. As she walked away, Toby was left with the unsettling feeling that he had just made things worse for Spencer and her friends, having divulged their thoughts to the lieutenant.

He called her back, "Where's your partner?"

"Oh, Detective Holbrook?" she said lightly. Tanner smiled and assured, "He's out of temporary assignment."

•

Night fell over Rosewood, a much lighter sky than the deep one that came with winter and overstayed its welcome. It was now mid-march, and things had changed drastically for Aria. For one, she was engaged in regular counselling sessions with Jesse; two, she pledged herself firmly into more activities clubs, including the school paper with Halle and Andrew Campbell, as well as helping decorate the currently closed brew; and three, Noel.

He was the biggest one.

"So, this is it," Aria announced to him. With the spare keys to the coffee shop, Aria had allowed Noel a sneak-peak into the ongoing plans. "For now, at least. Mrs B want to make it so much more than just a coffee shop, she's gonna be showcasing all her family recipes. It's gonna feel like a totally new shop. Once it's all done, this will all be booths—" she motioned to the large wall to the left, at the moment cordoned off by the large, plastic sheets where unpainted, wooden booths were newly built in, "and I've hand-selected art from some vintage stores in the city for décor." She walked him through the almost blank, down to its bare bones canvas of the building. "I know it doesn't look like much right now, but it's going good. In a... 'has to get really messy before it gets clean' kind of way."

Noel chuckled, "I'm sure Mrs B appreciates your optimism."

"Oh, she doesn't," Aria joked, with a bright smile. "If anything, I think she hates it."

"So Halle gets it from her?" Noel asked, as he inspected the covered cashier, now tiled with a deep green and white.

"Exactly." Aria said, "But Mrs B was nice enough to hear our ideas and involve us in this space." She added happily, "She really wants this to be successful and a spot in town people love, so she's really listening to me and Toby on this."

Noel questioned, "Toby?"

"Yeah, he's the one fitting all the... fittings," Aria guessed, laughing at how little she knew about that sort of thing. "He's building my booths. Hal's taught me how to upholster cushions for them, too."

"Right." After admiring the work that had been done and was still to be completed, Noel mentioned, "It's a shame this didn't happen for you before college applications were due. This would look really great."

"Uh, yeah..." Aria's mood dropped. Her smile vanished as she turned away from her boyfriend of one month. "But I'm doing this for me — and Mrs Brewster — not college."

"Yeah, but it's still great to mention at interviews," Noel inserted. His gaze travelled to a freshly withdrawn Aria. "You heard off any one yet? I heard Oberlin's letters are going on this week."

"No." Aria busied herself by prying through the paint samples on the work-desk. "No, I haven't yet. Maybe tomorrow. But, you know, I've been far too distracted to focus on that," she finished with an unconvincing lie.

"With Mike?" Noel pried knowingly. "Has he said much since the funeral?"

Facing him, Aria sighed when she admitted, "I kind of lost track of him after the slap heard around the world." She folded her arms over her chest, her head falling at a tilt while she looked up at noel. "Why?"

"I'm just wondering how he's doing," Noel told her. "Coach said he hadn't been showing up to practice again, like in the beginning, when I know you said it felt like he was finally turning a page."

"Yeah, well, that was before today," Aria considered. "He was always gonna drop off, I'm surprised he didn't when Mrs Vanderwaal first told him she was having a funeral for Mona. I can tell it hurt him, but he doesn't really talk about her much."

Noel seemingly understood. "Mona was a lot of complicated things to a lot of people, especially to you," he said, "but she was just one thing to Mike."

Aria felt a dull ache where her heart was. "He loved her." She swallowed a painful lump in her throat ad looked away in shame. "... And I was the one who tried to screw it up, twice. He doesn't wanna talk to me about her."

"Hey, come here." Noel crossed over to her, hugging Aria to his chest. He rubbed soothing circles on her back. "It's not your fault, okay? Mike's just gotta open up to someone in his own time. If you want... I could try," he suggested, and Aria rolled her head back so she looked up at him. "I mean, we were always friendly, and I have some experience with Mona. I could use that."

"I don't think Mike wants a heart-to-heart with Mona's ex, who just so happens to now be dating his sister," Aria replied.

"But he doesn't know the last part, does he?" Noel reminded her with a grin. "Unless you've told your family without telling me."

Shaking her head, Aria said, "I haven't, not yet. It's just... there's never been a good time. Between Mona, that disgusting photo, Mike's grades dropping, Spencer's bail, Alison's new years' threat, Ezra's book coming out, all the reporters, helping decorate this place — I don't know when to tell them. It's like I go to tell them then we get his with another thing." She promised, "I do really wanna tell them, but—"

"Hey, I get it," Noel reassured her. "I understand. I wanna take this slow with you," he said. "I told you, I'm comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with. This is on your terms, Aria, you're in control."

A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. "I've never had that before."

"I know," Noel said in light jest, "it's why I deserve the best boyfriend award."

Aria laughed and said, "And I will make you that award, along with finishing up upholstering booth cushions." She popped up on her tip-toes and pecked his lip sweetly. "You wanna go collect our food from The Grille while I wrap up here?" she asked.

"Whatever you want," Noel responded. "My place or the cabin?"

"Your place," Aria said. "I really can't stay over either. I don't really wanna be so far away from Mike tonight, even if he doesn't leave his room."

"Okay, meet you by the benches?" he asked.

Aria nodded. She half-faked a smile for him, happy to have someone who made her stomach flutter nicely for the first time in forever, but saddened from the letter she knew was rejection from yet another college in her purse. Aria had done well to strike up a relationship built on truth, not a secret in sight, yet slowly but surely, they crept up on her, and Aria wanted to keep this one.

From Noel.

From everyone.

It hadn't taken her long to check the alarm was on and to lock up. Aria was out in less than five minutes, so she walked across the road towards the centre of town, to the small pavilion. As she took her seat on the bench, gearing up to wait for her loyal boyfriend, she could see him. Noel was in The Grille chatting kindly with the owner while he waited for their food. He saw Aria and sent her a small wave, and while her heart first did a little leap of joy, it settled with dread of her letters.

Two of them.

Aria looked at them in her bag. The Oberlin letter was the most obvious. Aria didn't need to be a genius to figure out what it said; the letter was thin like the others she had already received that rejected her. The second was more alarming. Harkness Solicitors was printed on the top corner, scaring her deeply. Anxiously, Aria wet her bottom lip with her tongue as she ripped open the envelope. She pulled out the letter, and her heart sank to her shoes.

Dear Ms. Montgomery,
I regret to inform you that your request to be left out of discussions in the settlement of Alison DiLaurentis versus. The Fitzgerald Estate is impossible. Due to both parties signalling your opinion as of great importance to their dispute, I am now writing to you to request your involvement in mediation. As the retained impartial mediator for this case, it is my job to reach out to obtain your statement on this matter. I look forward to hearing from you and having an open dialogue to best conclude this for these clients and yourself. If you could reach out to my office in the next week, then I would be very grateful.
Many Thanks,
Shirley Hopkins

Her throat went dry. Her tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of Aria's mouth. She could barely breathe, her laboured breaths harsh and choppy as she absorbed the next battle she was being thrust into. Aria wanted to be left out of it. She understood when her DA contact reached out to say that, unless Aria sued Ezra's estate, all charges would be dropped due to his death. Aria was devastated tremendously but understood. Now, Alison chose to drag her into it again just when Aria was finally in a good place; moving onwards with her life after Ezra.

It destroyed Aria in a moment's work. Both Diane and Alison were yanking her in. Aria had no escape from it. She'd be made to relive her trauma until the well of intrigue and hatred ran dry. It never did.

"Bad news?"

Aria jolted back in terror. One of the devils she silently damned appeared over her shoulder. Alison stood by the bench, still in her pretty dress from earlier but now with a jacket. She peered over at the letter that a frightened Aria scrambled to hide away.

"Don't you already know?" Aria accused, trembling. "You're the one doing it to me."

"The suing wasn't my idea, it was my dad's," Alison reasoned. "He wants Ezra to pay for what he did to me."

"What he didn't do, you mean," Aria replied. Rushing, she collected up her things and tried to flee from the bench. She'd meet Noel inside The Grille instead as the fear coursed through Aria too greatly to stick around her ex-friend, even in a public space.

However, Alison didn't allow Aria to escape. She cut Aria off immediately, rounding on her. She had swiftly scurried out in front of Aria and stopped the girl from leaving. "You don't have to do that," she said.

Terrified, Aria kept to herself. She glued her limbs to herself, bringing herself as far away from Alison as she physically could. "Do what?"

"Run from me," Alison answered. "Be afraid."

Aria's voice ran cold, but had a scared tremor as she spoke. "If you want me to believe you're not who I think you are, you will leave us all alone."

Stunned, Alison shared, "God, it's like you went to sleep one night and forgot who I am."

"I know exactly who you are... A," Aria accused.

Alison grew angry. "Stop saying that."

"Why would I?" countered Aria hotly. Gaining some courage, Aria mustered up the strength to defend herself despite the fear swirling around her. "You're A," she said. "You and Ezra stole the game from Mona, and after you shot him to cover up your involvement, you became A; then you killed Mona because she had proof." Heatedly, Aria continued to spit, "And you killed Bethany Young because you were jealous of a mental patient because your own mother preferred her to you." She ignored the seething glaze to Alison's narrowed eyes as Aria finished, "That's how crazy you are—"

"Listen to me, Aria," yelled Alison. Her voice was stern — a direct warning — yet it didn't stop the defiance from taking over.

Reaching into her bag, in the sleeve where Aria had kept if for the last three months, Aria collected out the whistle that Mona had given her. She raised it to her mouth and blew long and hard. It startled Alison, whose eyes were large at the display of most obvious fear. Her stare darted around to see people starting to look over, concerned for girl with the whistle. Aria blew it again, longer, harder. By the third time, Noel had coming running out to get to her just as Alison threw her a nasty glare. She went to blow it for a fourth time when Alison retreated.

"Hey! Hey!" Noel sprinted over, panicked. Instantly, he pulled a shaking Aria in for a hug. Noel embraced her closely. "What happened? Are you okay?" His concern for his girlfriend was paramount. "Did she hurt you?"

"No, no." Aria shook her head gently. She looked up at Noel with misty tears. "She just scared me, that's all."

"Well, you're okay," said Noel reassuringly. He tightened his arm around her. "You're gonna be okay, you're okay now." In his hold, Aria could relax but the fear states with her. It was clear to Aria now; Alison truly petrified her.

•

SOS

The next day, the liars were summoned to Spencer's house. Four of them watched while Spencer paced frantically up and down the space before them. She was on high-alert, raving through her extreme panic. "The company that owns Radley is putting pressure of the judge right now," she argued. "They don't want Bethany's murder to go unpunished because it would be another public scandal for them." She stopped in front of her friends, panting. Her shallow breaths were irratic and tears soaked her face. "It could be today, it could be tomorrow. I mean, my mom is at the courthouse, she's trying to fight it, but she—" Spencer cut herself off when she sharply gasped for air.

"Okay, Spence," Halle said calmly, "just breathe, take a moment."

Reassuringly, Hanna added, "Yeah, Spencer, that's crazy, okay? They can't just revoke your bail based on, what? Some company that made the worst investment known to man by buying Radley years ago."

"It's Decladine," Spencer argued sourly, "it's a multi-million dollar company, they can do what they like."

"Why would they do that?" Halle asked.

Spencer said, "Apparently, according to my dad's source at the Philadelphia Press, a Radley investor is pushing them to act. Decladine would rather it all go away."

"Okay, which investor?" Halle asked. "Maybe they have a connection to Bethany."

"Oh, you see that's the real kicker," Spencer said through a gritted jaw. "They get to stay private. They're coming at me and they get to stay anonymous."

"Sounds familiar," Emily gathered.

"Yeah, exactly like A," Spencer exhaled.

"Well, we have to do something," Aria inserted. "This is A."

"Like what?!" snapped Spencer angrily. She was hopeless, suffering a staggering defeat and the opposition kept taking hit after hit at her. "We found a letter from Bethany explaining the matching clothes — explaining everything!" she yelled. "And Holbrook is doing whatever he can to get it thrown out, to make sure it looks like I forged the whole thing!"

"But Mona found out that Ali hit Bethany with that shovel and was murdered for it," Aria made her point clearly, enough to calm Spencer only slightly. "So, if we can prove that Ali killed Mona, the cops will realise that these two crimes are connected," she rationalised. "That one motivated the other, that you're innocent."

Emily dragged the mood down. "If it were easy to prive that Ali's a murderer, wouldn't we have done that already?"

"Well, if Mona can find proof, so can we," Aria said boldly. "I mean, it's gotta be somewhere, right?" she aimed at Spencer before she then cast her eyes to Hanna. "How's Caleb doing with her laptop?"

With a dramatic sigh, Hanna said, "He's not giving up, but he's not getting anywhere either."

"Guys," Emily reasoned, "as long as Ali has an alibi, she's untouchable."

"So, then we tear down her alibi," Spencer decided adamantly, stunning Halle to straighten up more.

"No, her dad won't budge," Emily said. "Neither will her mom. She's hell-bent on denying Alison had anything to do with it."

From he spot, Halle broke free on her momentary lapse of quiet. "She's not talking about her parents, Em." Her stare fell to Spencer, and Halle gave a brief nod. "I can get you in, so you can talk to him."

"You'd do that?" Spencer had asked the same question she did three months prior, just before the clock hit midnight. "Hal, everything you and him have built, all those boundaries you set together..."

"They don't matter right now — you do," Halle replied evenly. "Plus, I think I'm owed the truth as to what happened that day, too."

•

They came up with a lacklustre excuse, but Jason didn't question it. He gave them an allotted time to come by the house, when it was only him home while he collected the files he needed as well. Lately, Jason lived at the motel rather than the house he owned to avoid the people inside of it, so it was rare to have such a moment. The liars wouldn't waste it.

He led Emily, Spencer and Halle through. "Kitchen's that way if you wanna look for your mom's..." Jason spared a glance back at the girls, completely disinterested, "whatever it was."

"Muffin tray," Emily stated, her hand gripped tight around the strap of her bag. "She swears she left it here," she said, not caring if that was over three months ago.

"We'll make it quick," Halle promised him.

From his spot, by the slender love-seat where he had placed down the boxes he came to collect, Jason glanced them over before two of the three left to go search. He wasn't even sure if he bought that Mrs Fields was missing a muffin tray — it was a lousy excuse — but Jason allowed it for the sake of Halle. A part of him knew why there was truly here, and he was proven right when Spencer didn't follow them. Without looking, before she could speak, Jason beat her to the punch.

"Ali's not home."

"Yeah, I know," Spencer said. "Halle told me you chose this time to stop that run-in." Her hands were clasped in front of her stomach, fingers nervously fiddling together, as Spencer observed. "You two are never in the same place at the same time these days."

Jason stepped aside to look at her. His brows raised when he shot, "That a trick question?"

Startled, Spencer denied, "No." She dropped her hands, slapping them to the sides of her thighs, at the harsher insinuation. Everyone did it with her recently, peering between her words like there was some secret message. "No, it's just a regular statement."

He didn't buy it. "What do you want, Spencer?" Seeking out the meaning of this dull ambush, he said, "You clearly want something from me, you wouldn't have gotten Halle to ask me if you didn't."

"I wanna know why you're protecting her."

Scoffing, Jason faced away. He tried to focus down at the file he held, but failed massively when Spencer continued at him.

She raised her voice, damning, "The cops found traces of Mona's DNA in Ali's trunk. But it's not enough to arrest her, not when you're providing her with an alibi." There was no answer from him, but Spencer spied how he stilled. "Your parents, I understand. But you—"

Jason snapped around and argued, "It was Christmas Eve, Spencer." His face was hard, unflinching. "You're the only one who finds it hard to believe that we were all together that day."

She turned shrill. "Jason, you spent new years with me — with my friends — at my table — instead of with your family."

"That's doesn't prove anything," he said.

"It proves everything!" Spencer yelled angrily. "I know that you weren't all—!"

"Em," Jason called out, cutting off the argumentative girl in front of him, "you find those muffins yet?" he asked, with a furious glare. He should've know better, not just allowed this because Halle asked him.

"Uh, no, not yet," Emily was heard to shout back.

His disapproval was evident. His temper simmered at being used. Jason supposed this behaviour would rear up again around Mona's funeral, especially now that he knew Spencer's file had been unsealed. Jason dropped the sharp, narrowed gaze he and Spencer held, and he turned. His back to her caused Spencer to eventually snap. Her patience with him wore off. Spencer stepped closer until she was standing beside him and she decided to challenge Jason.

"At some point that day, she got in her car and she left the house, and she didn't come back for a long time." Spencer knew it. She knew he knew it also. She watched as the recognition itched across his features, slow and torturous. Spotting it, Spencer slightly eased up. "I know she's your sister, but so am I." There was a short pause, letting it sink in deeper, then Spencer persisted strongly, "She set me up, Jason. I'm gonna go to jail because of her. Halle was hit around the head so hard that day that she has to permanently take pain medication for her headaches. She could've died. Somebody did die!" She exclaimed, "Somebody's dead because of her!"

He heard rushing from the kitchen, but Jason zeroed in on Spencer. He rotated his head around to face her rage. It was written all over her face — the fiery fury that engulfed her features, the way he knew his temper did for him.

"They're the ones that are asking you to lie and all I want is the truth," she demanded. Neither sibling reacted as Halle burst in, worried, when she gripped the frame of the archway into the stormy living room. Spencer held his stare, determined and hard. "Please."

After a beat of silence, Jason spoke, "You need to leave."

"Jason—"

"I said, leave, Spencer," he matched her annoyance from before. "Leave."

Reluctant, and exhausted from her last resort having failed, Spencer withdraw. "Okay." She glanced over to her friends to see that both Halle and Emily now joined them. "Let's go, guys."

Without the muffin tray, Emily crossed to meet Spencer. Halle went to do the same — to leave with them — when a hand on hers caught her. "Not you," Jason said. "You don't get to leave yet."

The couple waited until they were alone. Halle guessed it was Jason's choice rather than her own, and yet, she didn't protest it. Halle wouldn't want to have this conversation in front of her friends either. It was her relationship, not theirs.

"You lied to me," Jason began.

"You let me," Halle replied, causing him to scoff. "You did it for a reason, Jason," she inserted firmly. "You let me lie to you because you wanted to hear Spencer out. Because you know she's right." She edged closer to him, stepping into his space. Halle's imploring, dark eyes bore up at him. "Because you're a good person and lying is killing you. It's killing you, Jason, I can see it."

Jason swallowed. "You don't know that. You don't know it's a lie."

Halle shook her head at him softly. "We both do." She said, "Look, I know we made a deal not to talk about it — it's the only way we've managed to keep this safe," referring to them. "But we have to now," she regretfully concluded. "We're at a crossroads, Jason. This is it. We have to talk about this."

"Yes! Me and you — we should've talked about it!" he said argumentatively. "Not me and Spencer."

"She's your sister," Halle said.

"Yeah, and the whole world knows it," Jason insisted, full of pity. He was wounded by it, Halle could tell by the way his eyes filled and his adam's apple bobbed. "I can't escape it. Everyone knows now who my father is, and my dad is on my back about it all the time. My mom, too. It's why I can't stand to be in my own house, Halle. It's—" Jason retched himself away from her and groaned out his frustration. "It's not so easy for me to choose."

"I'm ain't asking you to choose—"

"Yes, you are!" Jason shouted. "You are. You're asking me to choose between Ali and Spencer."

It winded Halle. She hadn't noticed how she had pushed him into a corner, backed Jason up so far against the wall that he couldn't breathe. She was on him to tell the truth the exact way his family were on him to lie.

With a sigh, Halle entered his space once more. Her arms slipped around his waist. She hugged him, the side of her head pressing to his chest where Halle listened to the strum of his heart as it steadied under her. "I don't wanna make you choose," she said, almost whispering. "That's not me."

"Yeah—" his palm stroked down the back of her head, over her curls, "I know," he replied.

"Jason..." Halle rolled her head up to peer up at him. "If Alison's innocent like she says she is — like your parents say she is — she wouldn't need an alibi. Please, just... think about it. Not about Alison or Spencer. But about you. Mona," she gave. "Her family. They need the truth, too." She returned to resting on him. "So do you."

•

Family had meant something different for Jason. From birth, high expectations and misery were both thrusted upon his shoulders as well as inherited. Nowadays, Jason supposed they were from his mother's side, at least the pressures he felt coursing through his blood were. The secrets came from everywhere -- his mother, his father, his real father, his sisters, his girlfriend They followed Jason around, permanently fixed to his flesh as he carried them in his body.

His mind had fallen to family after his chat with Halle. He turned to the stacked photo-albums that his mother kept and glanced through a handful of ones taken the summer before they moved to Rosewood. Jason recalled the fighting was at its peak then; it only took one small thing to set everyone off. These were the photographs that his mother framed around the house for years — them, their wedding photos and a few pictures of Jason and Alison as children. They were still children when they moved. They were still children now, at least to their mother because Jason was no longer Kenneth's.

The door opened, and Jason didn't have an expectation over who he wanted to enter but was mildly relieved when it was his sister. Unsuspecting, Alison strolled into the living room to be surprised by his presence.

"Jason, what are you doing here?" she asked.

His eyes briefly flickered up to her, not shocked that she would ask him that about his own house. Nobody saw it as his. "I came by to pick up some files for the office," he said. "They were in the closet with all the family photos," he explained. Slightly peeved, he asked her, "You know you have three full baby albums? Guess how many I've got."

Alison remained silent. She tucked her hair behind her ear, uneasy around him like she had been since new years' having seen him in her place among her friends when she was excluded. Alison was unsure over who to blame for that — him or Halle. She guessed it was both yet she put the fault more harshly onto the latter.

At her silence, Jason scoffed. "It's like he knew the whole time I wasn't his, it came out subconsciously with what memories were worth remembering," he admitted, scorned violently by it. "What photos to take." Picking out a specific photograph, of the four of them in their ski-suits on snowy mountains, he held it out to his sister between his index and middle finger. "Remember this?"

Nearing him, Alison accepted the image from her brother. As she inspected it over, their cheerful faces, Alison smiled fondly. "It was a good day."

She said exactly what Jason thought she would. He shook his head at her. "No, it wasn't," Jason recounted easily. "Dad forgot his wallet. Mom was crying all the trip because if it was the first one since—" he swallowed, "the move. We were fighting the whole time," Jason informed. There was a strong pull in his chest, where the aches of his brutalised children laid, that told Jason he wouldn't pass this hurt he felt down to his own children; he'd break whatever curse his parents pushed on him. "It took eight shots before we finally got one of us all smiling."

Suddenly, Alison became awkward. She couldn't pin-point the aim of Jason's question — what his motivation was. It unnerved her, so Alison set the photograph down on the coffee table. "I guess I remember it differently."

That Jason agreed with. He dryly commented, "You always had a knack for that." Jason elaborated, "Remembering things differently — you and dad. I wish I had that." His voice dropped in earnest pain. "I really do." From his forlorn self-reflection, he missed the irritation that glossed over her eyes. Jason referred down to the photo-album, to a photograph of Alison (no older than three) in Kenneth's arms. Her smile was large while he held up and planted a kiss to her cheek. It reached the most spiteful parts of Jason, one where she wanted to blame his younger sister for the reason why their father didn't love him. "You had him wrapped around your finger from day one," Jason said, older enough to know now that it was never either of their faults. The sins of their parents were passed down.

At last, Alison gathered what this was for. She saw Jason's motives clearly. This wasn't about family, not really. This was about what they family stood for — what it meant they had to do to preserve their image. The alibi. "Spencer talked to you, didn't she?"

His stare was on her again. He watched to gauge her reaction. "Yeah, she did. Halle and Emily, too." Jason placed down the photographs as he started to stand. "And they're right, Ali," he said. "You went somewhere Christmas Eve." His tone grew serious, drenched in concern more than it was anger or annoyance. Out of desperation, Jason was looking at her, waiting. He wanted her to be innocent. He needed a simple explanation he could believe to why she had him lie. That was what he prayed for when he pressed further. "Then you came back and barely said a word. Where did you go, Ali?" He was begging her, "Really."

She gave him none of what he prayed for. Instead, Alison sought to turn the conversation of its head — back in her favour. "I'm being framed, Jason." Alison said, "Spencer, Emily, Aria, Hanna, even Halle... They're all working together." Her voice was shaken, a small tremor sounded as she spoke. "They wish I never came home and now they want me gone."

"Do you know they think you're A?" Jason asked her, and Alison nodded. "They were here, the night of your ice ball. They were here looking for something that'll tie you to A, but A found them first. They pushed Hanna, walked through my house with a knife. I was with Halle." He stepped up, eyes hard. "If that was you or if you had any part in what happened that—"

"I didn't do that," Alison abruptly interrupted. "I didn't do what they're saying. Any of it. You have to believe me. I didn't kill Mona."

He warned her first. "Don't make me choose between you and Halle."

"Why not?" Alison sharply asked, jaw clenched.

There wasn't an ounce of hesitation to Jason as he answered her. "Because I'd choose Halle."

•

Furious knocks ripped incessantly at the Brewster house. Having been the only one home, Halle had to drag herself down from upstairs, having locked Pacha in her room, to answer it. "Alright, alright!" she shouted as the loud knocks continued. "I'm coming, alright!" Halle twisted the lock and opened the door to the aggravating disturbance. "Oh, hell no—" Halle went to shut the door right in Alison's angry, red face, but Alison's hand slammed down on the wood first.

"You're turning my brother against me," Alison accused violently. She pushed all her strength on keeping that front door open to confront her ex-best friend. "I don't appreciate you messing in my family."

"You have gotta be kidding me," Halle bristled, with a painfully tired eye-roll. "If Jason has said something to you, take it up with him. He's an adult, he can put on his big-boy pants and make his own mind up."

"You're turned him against me — my own brother!" Alison screeched, making the veins in her neck go a very worrying shade of deep purple.

"I'll give it to you, Alison, you've got some guts showing up at my door over this," Halle uttered in mild disbelief.

Alison snapped, "We're neighbours, Halle, it's not hard."

"No," Halle said, challenging her, "but that rock hit you a lot harder than I thought if you think I'm continuing this conversation with you—"

Again, Alison slammed her hand on the door as she stopped Halle from closing it on her. "I'm not the one who hit you," she said, through a clenched jaw.

"Yeah, right," Halle scoffed. "I saw what I saw, and I know it was you. Leave." She grew firmer, "Now, Alison, or I'll call--"

"The police?" Alison cut her off.

"No — Toby," Halle stated without missing a beat. "He has a gun, a badge and the uniform, and you're trespassing."

It seemed to work because Alison withdrew. Her hand slipped down from where it hit the door, and Alison mellowed almost. "I didn't want to hurt you."

The sympathy act didn't work. Halle was immune to it now. "You have always wanted to hurt me," she corrected Alison fiercely. "Ever since the day we met, you have done nothing but hurt me. You changed me, moulded me, fitted me to what you needed your first friend in Rosewood to be. You made me. You said it yourself, Ali." Gesturing out, Halle made a wry spectacle of her, "You made all of us, or don't you see it that way now? Now we're all done with you."

A snarl pulled at Alison's lip while she threatened, "I know things — things you've done — that could bring us all down. I haven't told the cops them because I'm not who you think I am."

"No, you are exactly who I think you," Halle responded in confidence. "Take A off the table. Murder, too. You are toxic. You are a bully. You're a goddamn sociopath that destroys everything she touches. You ruin everybody you touch." Her dark eyes were hard, tempered by the contained fury in her blood. "You — are — poison," she said purposefully, not blinking once as she cursed Alison out. Her heart clenched. "Did you do it?"

"Did I kill Mona?" threw Alison.

Setting her shoulder back, Halle pressed instead, "Did you know about the explosion? The one you sent Noel into, the one that was meant to kill my dad."

"I, uh—" Alison stammered, this wasn't what she prepared for. "Of course, I didn't."

"Liar." Halle held her furious stance. "I know it was you. I know it was all you."

Alison withdrew further, empty behind her cold, deadened stare. "I really picked the wrong friend, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you already knew that," Halle knowingly inserted. "That Summer," she recalled. "You were replacing me, remember? With Aria no doubt." Halle's face contorted up with fiery anguish. "It must really bruise your ego to know my replacement tried to kill you off in before I could. Guess you really are bad at picking friends."

"Mona told you," Alison guessed with a hard swallow.

Halle sucked her teeth. "And your diaries told her." She itched to get closer, to tower over Alison, to intimidate her the exact way that Alison everyone else, only it never came natural to Halle. It was forced through her and now it felt like a show when she defended her friends — like it was what Halle was supposed to do as the protective one. "That little, sick game you pulled on Aria to get her to trash her dad's office, to see how far you could push, to see how violent she could get at your word," Halle scornfully said, not noticing the car pull up the drive. "You did the same to me. That's how you trained me to be your best friend. I was an idiot not to see it when it was happening, but I was too busy trying to play you to see you were playing me the whole time."

The slam of the car door caused both their heads to whip towards it. There, a face like thunder, Luisa Brewster stood after her trip to the grocery store. "I know this is wrong," she said, a brown -paper bag in her arms. Her eyes were set on Alison, undeterred and sharp. "You can't be here. She's a witness and you're a suspect."

Completely unbothered by the woman's presence, Alison boldly claimed, "I was cleared of murder."

"Of Bethany Young's," Luisa protested, "not of Mona's. So get the hell off my property before I call Lieutenant Tanner to say you're intimidating a witness in an ongoing homicide. Halle, get inside," she ordered without taking her seething stare from Alison.

"Mom—"

Luisa spoke through a clenched jaw. "Halle, I said, get inside."

It gave Halle no room to argue. She did exactly what she was told and headed inside the house, even going as far as to close the door behind her. Unwillingly, Halle left her mother outside with Alison, afraid and wondering how would throw the first blow.

"Mrs Brewster—"

"That is not your permission to talk to me." Luisa intervened stoically. Her finger was up to silence the teen as she passed by, walking up the porch steps to get to her front door.

"Please, Halle won't listen to me," Alison pleaded with her desperately. Her eyes were fixed to Luisa's back, blinking to bring on the tears. "I'm not the one who hurt her. I need you to explain to her that it wasn't me who—"

In a flash, Luisa had whirled back around. Hotly, she stated, "It's not my job to explain anything to her." Luisa planted her feet firmly and let rip, scolding Alison like she had longed to do for years. "You physically, emotionally, mentally abused that girl and the rest of your friends to the point of actual harm. They had to go to therapy because of you. Do you know how screwed-up of a friend you have to be to do that to a person?" The mother scoffed, disgusted. "No, you don't," she said. "I bet you don't even remember half of the crap you put them through. What you said or did to them. No, because that was just another day to Alison DiLaurentis." Her tone was stern, unwavering. Luisa didn't shy away once. Just like her daughter did prior, Luisa cursed out, "You are a terrible person. I don't want you near my daughter. Ever."

It didn't falter Alison like Luisa suspected. Gone were the tears from before. Alison's eyes were bone-dry, untouched by any emotion other than hatred. Her top lip curled up with a hiss, "You don't like me very much, do you, Mrs Brewster?"

"I don't. I never did. In fact—" Luisa braced forward and said, "I tolerated your ass for years for Halle's sake, but now I don't have to. Halle's finally woken up to your toxicity and I didn't have to say a word. I just get to be there for her, support her."

While she sneered, Alison countered, "It's nice you can finally do that for her, even without the pom-poms."

Luisa recoiled, utterly baffled out the outrageous way that the young girl behaved. "You're either evil or crazy to talk to me like that outside my own home, and none of them are helping your case right now."

"Oh, Mrs B," Alison sinisterly taunted, "surely you should know better than anyone to throw around words like 'crazy'. Then again, you must be really grateful," she commented with a falsely light voice now. "One out of three kids isn't so bad and it skipped a generation, right?"

Feeling her grip loosen on the grocery bag, her hands shaking with rage, Luisa said, "You better back away before another person slaps you, Alison. Leave my family alone." Very pointedly, Luisa warned her, "Come near Halle again, and I'll teach you a lesson your mother should have a long time ago. Respect," she spat. "Get the hell off my porch."

Having said her piece, Luisa didn't stay to watch the Alison go. If she did, Luisa was scared her strength could fracture enough to show an inkling of weakness. Alison was a shark; if she could sense blood in the water, she would eat them whole. Shaking, Luisa entered the sanctuary of her home. She walked past the small entry way and walked into the main house, finding Halle exactly where Luisa expected her to be.

"Mom?"

"I...Uh, the rest of the groceries are..." Luisa managed to set down the one bag she had with her on the dresser. "They're the car. I have to— I'll go fetch them in—"

"I can do it," Halle cut in. "I can get them for you."

Glassy eyes turned to Halle. Luisa, trembling, looked at her daughter and exhaled a huge sigh of relief. "She's never gonna hurt you again, honey. I'm not gonna let it happen." Her voice cracked, and Luisa avowed, "You're my baby, nobody hurts my baby."

Halle swept in. She gathered her mother up in a hug, grateful when Luisa's arms held her tighter. "Nobody hurts any of us," said Halle. "I promise you, after today—" Halle gave an anxious gulp, "Alison is dead to me."

•

Just as the liars believed Jason would be the first to break from the alibi, the police thought the same. He had gotten a call from Lieutenant Tanner requesting he stop by in light of some new evidence. Wanting to help — figuring it couldn't hurt to see more before he made his choice — Jason went. In a private room, the door shut and the blinds down, Jason was subjected to the brutality of that awful day. With his lawyer across the table from him and Toby standing over his shoulder, Jason watched the television they had rolled in for this occasion.

"Mrs Vanderwaal asked us to search the house again, and we found this," Tanner informed him first. "They were three cameras. This is the only relevant one. Mona put them in herself," she said. "The batteries ran down months ago, but they were working on Christmas Eve."

Pressing play, Tanner talked him through what he watched for the first time. "Here, you see Halle Brewster arrive at fifteen-after. We see her go upstairs, to which we can only guess was the first place that Mona Vanderwaal was stabbed because..." Tanner fast-forwarded the tape ahead, "exactly six minutes later after Halle arrives at the scene, we see the assailant push Mona down the stairs."

Screams tore through the speakers. Mona collided with a loud thud to the floor. She gripped at her stomach, her hand red from the blood that pooled out of a wound. The figure that Jason recognised as A — a hoodied monster — appeared. Mona screamed again. She tried to drag herself across the floor, but A grabbed her roughly. A gripped at Mona's hair and ripped her up. Mona cried out hysterically. She wailed as the knife was plunged into her back.

Jason winced quieter. He saw as A beat Mona. They attacked her more, pushing her head first into the pillar and crashing Mona into furniture off-screen. Then, the injured girl managed to claw her way over to the foyer, where she knew the camera was. She fought her way there, but A followed. The knife was drove down into Mona's thigh this time and she squealed like a defenceless animal that had just had their throat cut.

Due to Mona's defiant strength to get A caught, as they battled, the camera picked up the long, blonde hair that Halle had described seeing right before she was knocked out. Blood swarmed the clothes Mona wore. She screamed again. And again. And again. All Jason heard was a mix of Mona's wails for her life while A grunted as they tossed Mona around the room like a rag-doll. He was horrified. The whole room was. They were witnessing her murder.

At long last, Tanner stopped the tape. "We can guess that what Halle saw upstairs was Mona unconscious rather than lifeless. After, the attacker proceeded to stab Mona another three times after Halle arrives. That we are aware off," Tanner pointed out. "We suspect our victim was subjected to an estimate of ten wounds, any one of them would've been fatal, but they just kept going." She muted the tape, but pressed play again so that Jason could continue to see the knife as it came down another time before A beat Mona senseless. "This was personal. For both of them, I'm guessing."

After she set aside the remote, Tanner asked him very carefully, "Is there anything about the attacker that in any way is familiar to you?" She paused, allowing Jason to sit forward, giving him the time to fully examine the footage. "Do you recognise anything about that person?"

His mouth opened. Jason kept his eyes peeled to the screen. He watched the attack on mute, focusing on their movements rather than the terrifying screams Mona released. While Mona fought for her life, Jason zeroed in on A. His mind swam with all Halle had said — what Spencer had also. The blonde hair that cascaded down, out of the hoodie, was a lot like his sister's. He recognised it with a twist of his gut.

"Look closer," Tanner instructed.

From a file, she presented to him a few screen-grabs from the video. A's face wasn't any clearer. A blurry, white jaw and more long, blonde hair. Alongside it, from the images Tanner spread out on the table, Jason's eyes caught on two specific images. They weren't of A, but of Halle. Her injuries were on display. The shaven spot of her hair revealed the bloody gash, her slashed skin, and the second reminded him on the nineteen stitches that had now healed. Jason felt sick. His stomach lurched.

"I understand it's a lot to process, but if you are able to—"

"It could be my sister," Jason cut in, and Tanner inhaled. He looked back to the television, where the video still played the violent murder. "It could be Alison."

Despite it being the answer she desired, Tanner pressed, "How could it be your sister if Alison was with you and your parents when the incident occurred?"

Jason tried to steady his hammering heart with a slow exhale. It hadn't worked. He could still hear it in his ears, pounding, as he faced the lieutenant to say, "Because she wasn't with us. That was a lie."

Tanner had to check, more carefully. "You're saying that Alison wasn't with you when Mona Vanderwaal was killed and Halle Brewster was attacked?"

"That's right," Jason answered with tears glistening in his eyes.

Massive appreciation crossed Tanner's usually stony face. "Thank you, Mr DiLaurentis."

He didn't know how he mustered the strength to walk out of the room. Jason felt at any time his ankles would cave under the weight of what he had done. He felt the guilt over committing Alison to this, however Jason waited for the shame to soon follow. Strangely, to him, it never came.

"You knew it was her, too, right?" Jason said to Toby, as they walked out together.

Clamping his hand down on Jason's shoulder, Toby reassured, "You did the right thing."

"That's not what I asked," Jason returned.

"Who we think it is doesn't matter when she had an alibi that placed her somewhere else." Toby explained. "You've just helped us get a step closer to justice for a grieving family."

"So," Jason gathered with the rising regret, "you needed me."

"Yeah," Toby admitted. "Not as much as her, though." He nodded his head towards the end of the corridor where an anxious Halle sat, flush to the wall, on one of the visitors' chairs. "I called her when I knew you agreed to come in. Figured you'd need each other."

They did.

The moment Halle rotated her head to find him, when his eyes had clapped onto her, she chose him as he had her. Her lips tugged up just for second as enough to send him the sweetest, most melancholic smile he'd ever seen. Jason knew when he saw that — saw Halle waiting for him — the choice he had made was the right one. His indecision vanished. There was his hope, and she loved him.

•

Panic flooded her. Alison had to get out. She collected the items she'd need: clothes, money, her fake passport; and she decided to flee. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she sprinted down the staircase. She only had a few minutes to narrowly escape; the police were coming. If she didn't hurry up, they'd catch her. Yet, something paused her.

Jason.

He had left the photographs from earlier on the coffee table. Alison wasn't exactly sentimental. She had gone two years letting her father and brother believe she was dead. She didn't have single thing of theirs with her before, but this time she'd taken the photo with her. She plucked up the one from the ski holiday, the last vacation before they moved to Rosewood. Her life was simpler back then. The secrets weren't so bad.

Alison was only taking the one. She didn't have time to pick and choose which ones she liked best or to figure out which clouded memory of an image she preferred. She had to go. She had to get out, fast. However, her escape was spoiled yet again by her brother.

From the out of the dark, Jason emerged. The phone was ringing behind them — 'MOM' across the lit green of the landline — but the siblings took no notice. Alison stared at him, speechless, while Jason didn't know what to do or say; she was leaving because of him. Because Jason had seen that video and only saw his sister attacking Mona. He still felt sick at the sight of Halle's injuries. It caused him to glower at his sister, blaming her. Jason was harsher than she needed him to be with her currently. Alison needed him soft. She needed him to see her as a victim like she had tried to do earlier.

Police sirens broke their hold. Alison glances to the front windows, nervously gulping at the sight of red and blue lights through their almost shut drapes. Her eyes flashed to her brother, lips parting ready to beg. Jason had moved towards her, looking like he'd rather block her path than let her go. But then Alison saw the twinge of regret on his face and pounced.

"Can you at least try to stall them?" she asked.

The sirens blared louder now. They were on Bridgewater. Jason knew what was right and wrong, and yet, he couldn't take the chance to hurt his sister further. He had committed her to this — to her arrest — but he didn't want her to suffer. He had failed her once before; he wouldn't do it again. If anything, when Jason stepped aside and let her pass, he figured this was him making up for That Summer. After this, his slate was clean. He'd be rid of his family pressures. He'd be able to say that he helped her — that he helped Alison — but he needed her to learn by herself to face the consequences on her own terms, when she must. Jason wasn't responsible for her or that now. The moment she left, him keeping  his guilty gaze dipped so he didn't have to watch her pass him by, he'd do this as the last task Alison forced him to. Jason did it willingly like he did watching her escape through the back.

He hadn't known what was waiting for her. He hadn't know that the liars formed a barricade just metres from the Hastings' fence. Neither did Alison. She was stunned to see them, but only reacted with a sharp gasp. The sirens were incoming, imposing on her. Alison's time was running out.

"Get out of my way," she said. They hadn't moved an inch. "Now!" Alison demanded.

She heard the cars stopped; engines were killed. The police were here for her. Alison's head whipped around towards it, fearful of what was to come. She had never once been caught. She had always been safe until she came back to the one place she should've felt safest.

Home.

Alison charged at them. She attempted to flee — to make a break for it — when the liars stopped. All five briskly acted. They grabbed at Alison and forcefully shoved her back.

"You killed Mona, Ali," Hanna accused in anger. She sneered, "We're not letting you get away."

Pleadingly, Alison argued, "A set me up."

"You are A," Halle challenged.

Her blue eyes narrowed on Halle into sly slits. "No, I'm not," said Alison. "You're too dumb to see it, you're letting A win."

"Shut up, Ali," Spencer replied, breathless at the hatred before her.

Instantly, Alison twisted into a nasty scowl. "Who's gonna protect you when I'm gone?" Her blistering stare came for all of them. She looked at each of the liars, going down the line to threaten them. "If you do this, you'll all be next." Her voice cracked at the end, tearful. None of them flinched. They didn't take to her warning nor her tone, so Alison resulted to yelling. "Move! Now!"

The liars didn't. They didn't step aside for her or let her pass, no longer responsive to her Alison's vile orders. Together, they held more power than Alison did — more strength. They never needed a leader; they just needed each other, propped up on each other's shoulders, rested comfortably in a friendship without conditions.

"Hands above your head."

Lieutenant Tanner burst on the scene. She, along with two officers, appeared from the DiLaurentis backyard. Their torches were aimed at the girls, as well as their guns. Yet, as they came closer, the liars realised they weren't directed at the five but Alison. This was the first time it wasn't them. They weren't in trouble. They weren't being arrested. Alison was.

Slowly, with a fierce glare on her face, Alison extended her hands up in the air.

"Ladies, move," Tanner ordered

At her request, they did. The liar itched backwards, causing Alison glare to intensify at how her ex-friends obeyed somebody else and not her. Even Alison's defeat, as Tanner came forward, felt a lot like a curse. She looked at the liars like vengeance had struck her face, evil and callous, planning out her next attack already.

"Turn around slowly," Tanner said to her, after she had holstered her service weapon.

If Alison could've chewed them up and spat them out, she would've. She would have a done a lot of things different, slicing at them more cruelly so they would have feared her and let her go; like Jason had. It was because of them she was where she was, Alison bitterly swore. She told them as much. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

On the spot, she turned. Alison shut her eyes, shielding them from the bright light of the torch forced upon her face. She submitted to the charge when Tanner picked out her handcuffs.

"Alison DiLaurentis, you are under arrest for the murder of Mona Vanderwaal," Tanner stated sternly. "Turn around," she instructed, yet harshly gripped at Alison's wrist to force her. Alison's glare was back on the Alison, vengeful, while the hard click of the handcuffs clamped down on her wrists.

•

Together, the group felt drained. They were wiped from exhaustion, withered from how long it took they to slay the dragon. It was mostly bittersweet for Hanna, her finding extra support from her four best friend as they walked back to Spencer's. "Come on," Aria comforted, "let's make some popcorn and watch the notebook, you'll feel better."

"That'll make us all feel better," Halle reported lightly, making Spencer chuckle.

"Yeah, but you're gonna pull a face as soon as you find out we only have sweet in," Spencer informed Halle, who frowned deeply. She reached for the door handle for the mud-room. "But we have pretzels."

"Oh, sorted," Halle rejoiced.

"But the deal is we share," Spencer playfully said, as she led the girls inside. "You can't go hogging all the..."

She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence after she locked onto the three people in her living room. Immediately, Spencer paled. Her heart stopped, momentarily paused to see Lieutenant Tanner with her father and Toby. All the joy, though short, was wiped from her with a harsh slap of reality. Spencer had just seen Alison go to jail; now it was her turn.

Her friends stopped also. Their dread returned. They recalled the screaming from when Holbrook dragged Spencer out of The Brew, making a huge declaration of her being a murderer. They had been here before, and a fiery defiance stretched out between them to stop it happening for another time.

"No." Hanna wouldn't allow it. "Not again," she said, and she stepped out in front of Spencer. The others followed. They formed a human-shied around her, blocking them from getting to Spencer. The liars protected their own; it had never been clearer.

"You'll have to get through us if you wanna take her," Emily told them, and Peter gave them the briefest of smiles.

"Girls," said Peter. His voice lilted softly. "Spencer."

For some reason, it comforted his daughter. She felt braver, energised by the strong loyalty her friends displayed, and Spencer raised her chin higher. She looked directly at Tanner, watching as the lieutenant stepped out to meet her. To meet them.

"I wanted to tell you this in person," Tanner started. "We have been reviewing all of the evidence, and we now believe that Mona Vanderwaal was not Alison's first victim."

A beat passed. Spencer's lip quivered. Her eyes were glistening with frightened tears. "Bethany Young?"

Tanner responded with a nod. The liars glanced to each other. Their circle slipped, relaxing as they took in all they were hearing. The dam broke with overwhelming, all-consuming relief when Peter Hastings told them what they had be craving to hear for three long, torturous months.

"The DA is dropping the charges against you," he said, smiling at his daughter reassuringly. His eyes set on Spencer, her mouth hung open in paralysing shock. Peter explained, "The police think Alison set you up."

Spencer didn't say a word. Her breathing became laboured, shallower as she searched for air. All the anguish floated out of her body, rising from her rigid bones, and left her. She was left with the urge to cry, so Spencer did. She let out a sob, relieved and free, and then she began to weep.

"Oh, my god," Aria uttered, sharing in those tears. They all were. Her friends cried with her, clinging to each other in great gratitude.

Toby came for her. He crossed the room, forgetting the uniform he wore to just be who he always was. Toby. Spencer's Toby. He walked past his boss to wrap his girlfriend up in a large hug. "It's over, Spencer," he vowed. "It's all over."

Later, when the crying has ceased and their shared tears had been wiped. The liars sat on Spencer's back porch. They enjoyed the warming night, the air that engulfed them. Spencer could immerse herself in it more freely, not longer shackled to the idea of her bail being revoked or — worst — sleeping in cell with Alison.

Honestly, Emily admitted, "For a minute there, I thought we'd all be in cuffs."

"You and me both," Spencer said humorously.

"Well, if we were, I know who I'm blaming," Halle said, eyes already falling onto the blonde on the step below her.

The other three chorused the answer, "Hanna."

"Me?" Hanna's eyes largened. "Why me?"

"I don't know, maybe it was the shield you had us all do 'round Spencer," Halle chided.

"Okay, you're lucky you've got a friend as loyal as me," Hanna said sassily. "Plus, you didn't have to copy me."

"Copy you?" Aria shook her head, smiling. "No, we stood by you. We stood by Spencer."

"Ruin one of us, ruin all of us," Emily repeated her same sentiments from new years'.

"So—" Halle looked around at them and wondered, "what's next? I mean, we can finally cross off A from our lists, what's under it?"

Thinking on it for a moment, Hanna answered, "Graduating."

"Hmm," Halle agreed, reminded easily of that daunting prospect first. "There is that."

"And then college," Emily added, not noticing how Aria's smile died. "We can leave. Get out. Spread our wings. Leave Rosewood behind."

"That sounds amazing," Hanna voiced.

"Yeah, I agree," Spencer told them.

"Aria?" Halle's gentle gaze had landed on her quietest friends. "You okay?"

It chewed Aria's insides up. She couldn't tell them about college, not when they were all so hopeful and she wasn't. But they were looking at her. Halle had drawn them all in and they were awaiting an answer to her obvious misery. So, Aria scrambled for something else to give them. "Uh... you know how the DA came to me last month with the option to sue Ezra's estate," she started.

"Yeah, and you said no," Emily recalled. "You didn't want to go through it all again."

"Well, that option wasn't just given to me," Aria told them. "They gave it to Alison, too, and she's going for it."

"You're joking!" exclaimed Hanna in shock.

"That's awful," Emily sighed.

"It's more than awful," Spencer argued in disgust, "that's inhumane."

Halle voiced her appalled attitude, "She can't seriously be going ahead with it."

"Well, she is," Aria admitted. "I tried keeping it from you guys, I thought I could tell you when I knew it was over for me, but they're both dragging me into it."

"Both?" questioned Halle seriously.

"Alison and Diane," Aria revealed to them, and they all huddled closer to her.

Dropping her hand on Aria's knee, Hanna sympathised, "Aria, I'm so sorry."

"We all are," Emily shared. "And we'll all be there for you every step of the way."

"Thanks, guys," Aria appreciated, and held tight to Hanna's hand. "I couldn't get through it without you."

"You won't ever have to," Halle confirmed for the group as a whole.

In declaration, Spencer said, "I think that settles it. After all this is done, and we've slayed our other beasts, we should all think about getting out of here, and we can go anywhere," she added firmly. "I mean, Ali's in jail, nobody thinks I killed anybody, you're gonna get through this, Aria," she sweetly promised. Rubbing her palms up the length of her thighs, Spencer let out a soft exhale. "Nothing's keeping us here anymore."

Emily smiled. "After we graduate, we can go wherever we want to."

"Ali kept us in this town like we were magnetised," Spencer said, and she connected with each of her friends' tender gazes. "That's over."

Quietly, Hanna let out a bittersweet, "The spell is broken."

Carrying on, Spencer added, "We've all got college applications out, so it's not too later." She sucked in a breath, "If we can achieve escape velocity, we can have a chance at our own actually lives."

"No gates, no dams, no barriers," Hanna said happily.

"An actual life," Emily said.

"Peace," Halle finished, and they all smiled at the thought of that.

Their glee — their hope for a calmer, near-distance future — was short-lived. The liars were sat, huddled closely to one another on the step, in collective joy when it was stolen. In a blink of an eye, in the chime of a text — it was gone. They were plunged into chaos as their phones rang out to signal they were wrong to be happy.

"No, no, I don't accept this," refused Spencer strongly when her eyes met the message.

"Alison is A, and Alison is in jail," Emily remained adamant.

"—Oh, my god," gawked Halle.

An irritable Hanna overlapped her, "They don't allow phones in prison."

"No," Aria started to frantically panic, "no, no, this has to be something that she set up before they got her, right? It's gotta be automated. This can't be happening."

I DID WARN YOU.
-- A.

•

AUTHOR'S NOTE
I'm letting you guys know that neither of Spencer's extra love interests this season exist (aka Johnny or Colin). Neither does Talia. I'm currently working on writing out Leslie Stone entirely because she adds nothing to my version. Obviously, scenes that have specific changes and additional plot value will be written, but not all, for example: swapping out Ezra's scenes in the show for anyone when the dialogue doesn't change or adds nothing.
Everything that is VITAL will be in this book.

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