•

"Pilot"

ONE YEAR LATER

Halle Brewster sat in the front seat of Eric Kahn's car. They had just pulled up outside her family home, the second to last house on Bridgewater Terrace, before the road curved. It was a street for the few that had plenty — one of the richer neighbourhoods in Rosewood. The cute Suburban houses were pristine, all spaced out and elegantly posed; each with its own look about them.

All but one.

The end house.

A Victorian-style home — curtains drawn; flowerbeds empty; the porch bare. It wasn't like the rest. Haunted, the DiLaurentis house hadn't been same since the day Alison went missing. The house was vacant, of people and life. It mirrored the empty place scorned in Halle's heart where Alison DiLaurentis once was. That night she lost Alison, Halle broke.

"Halle? Halle?" Eric's hand landed on his girlfriend's thigh. Her attention switched from the house to him, her giving him a questioning look. From the moment they pulled up, she hadn't been paying any mind to the boy next to her. She saw that house and only that house. "You zoned out, you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just looking at Ali's," said Halle. A small, barely visible smile appeared on her face. Nowadays, it was the most Halle could muster; she didn't smile anymore, not really.

Eric gave her a sympathetic look and her thigh a comforting squeeze. "I know today is hard for you," said Eric. "With Ali still missing, and her parents selling the house," he let out a breath, "I can't believe it's been a year." Eric saw the frown upon the pretty brunette's face and sighed. "Look, if you don't wanna be here, we can leave. We can go back to the cabin, extend the weekend."

"I can't, I have school tomorrow," Halle said.

"I can drop you off," replied Eric. "We can even leave early and grab a coffee before." He flashed her a grin. "My treat."

Halle smiled softly back at him, her lips together. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," she said sweetly. "But I can't, I promised my mom I'd be here for this dinner."

"She's really going ahead with this, then?" Eric asked her, and Halle nodded as a response. "Hey, I can always stay, have this dinner with your family," he offered kindly.

She shook her head, no. Halle reached up her hand and cupped his cheek. "I don't even want to have this dinner. I don't want to put you through, too," she said. Halle reassured her boyfriend with a loving smile — still, a closed lip one — and she then she kissed him.

Eric smiled into it. He loved her and she loved him. At least, that was what Halle told herself and told him. She did really care for him. Eric was good; he was safe and she never would had gotten through the year without him. So, in a way, Halle never lied when she said she loved him because she did have love for him. She loved Eric — Halle just wasn't sure if she was in-love with Eric.

"I'll call you later, okay?" Halle said.

"You better," he told her.

Halle gave him one last smile, the corners of her lips only just twitched up that time, and then climbed out of his convertible. She grabbed her duffel-bag from the backseat and made her way up the driveway to her house. There was a time — before Alison disappeared — when Halle used to wait on the porch, key in door, and watched Eric drive away. It used to be her favourite thing; she'd wave him goodbye, step inside and throw herself back on the door in a giddy state. Now, Halle didn't. Something changed her that summer and her body had been off since.

The smell of honey-roasted ham travelled up her nose the moment she stepped into her home. Halle didn't have much time to process it before nails scraped at the floor and a long-haired German Shepherd collided with her legs. She found herself genuinely smiling — teeth showing — and Halle bent down to fuss the dog. "Hey, sweet boy." He started to lick her face in excitement, his tail madly shaking. "Have you missed me? I've missed you, I have," she said. Halle stroked his head. "My sweet boy."

Pressing a firm kiss to the dog's head, Halle felt strangely more like herself. Pacha the German Shepherd was the family dog, but always had a strong bond with Halle especially. He was bought after Halle's younger sister was born, to help Halle with the transition to big sister since Halle — at the time — was still a quiet and shy child. Her and Pacha had been inseparable since; he slept on her bed, curled up with his head rested on her feet, every night for the past year like he knew she needed him more.

"Where's everyone, then? Waiting for me no doubt," she said, stroking his glossy mane. "Let the beasts have me."

Halle stood up, dropped her bag at the bottom of the stairs, and walked further into the home. Pacha followed her, glued to her side like he tended to be when Halle just got in. Soon, she was met with animated chatter. In the back of the house was the kitchen and at the island-bar, sat Mrs DiLaurentis holding conversation with Halle's parents.

Her mother, Luisa, noticed Halle the moment she entered the room and smiled broadly. "Oh, good, you're home," she said. "I was just about to call and see where you got to. I told Jessica you'd be here already."

Luisa was an attractive woman, in her mid-forties; slim-figured with a pretty face. Halle's mother was know as a 'pillar' of the Rosewood community. No one could drive past her without her rolling down the window and saying hello. Luisa Brewster was Rosewood. She lived and breathed the small town. Luisa knew just about everything about everything, and nothing annoyed Halle more.

All her life, Halle had been told she was an exact replica of her mother — though she had the same dark brown eyes as her father — and she never had a problem with it. Halle adored her mother and had done since she was a child, but it paid the price. To have a mother as known and as loved by a town as her own was, Halle was surrounded by people who believed they knew her. Halle could think of nothing she wanted less; the girl had no desire to stay in a town like Rosewood, all because of the way her mother lived.

"Well, I'm here," Halle offered.

"Hello, Halle. You look well," Mrs DiLaurentis had politely said to the now sixteen-year-old.

Halle greeted the woman with a sad, gentle smile. She hadn't meant for it to be sad, but it was how it was whenever the DiLaurentis family were concerned. "Hi, Mrs D, it's good to see you."

"Luisa," Jessica DiLaurentis moved her attention back to the woman now carving the ham while she spoke about Halle, "she's just beautiful, isn't she? Such a beauty."

There was an air of awkwardness around the family. Halle had noted Mr DiLaurentis' absence; it was enough to put anyone on edge and it was all because of Alison. Halle knew Alison would be revelling in knowing she caused such a tense atmosphere, that she was still the pinnacle in every conversation. It was an impossible way of living — for all parties.

Nick Brewster, Halle's father, didn't want to be in the kitchen just as much as his daughter didn't. "Hal, let's go set the table for dinner, hey? Save your mom a job," he suggested, the silverware already grasped in hand.

Subtly hiding her eagerness, Halle nodded. She said, "It's nice seeing you, Mrs D."

Mrs DiLaurentis appreciated the gesture and smiled gratefully at the girl. Out of Alison's friends, it was always very plainly obvious that Halle was the woman's favourite. Maybe it was because Halle's family wealth could compete with their own and the Hastings'; her blind loyalty to Alison matched that of Emily's; and her devotion to Jessica DiLaurentis' daughter equalled that of Aria and Hanna. Perfectly placed, Halle was always made out to be the very best friend Mrs DiLaurentis could have wished for Alison.

"You too," said Jessica DiLaurentis.

Halle then, thankfully, turned on the balls of her feet and walked to the left of the house, into the dining room, where her dad had already started laying out the nice cutlery. Halle closed the shutter-doors connected the room to the kitchen and sighed deeply. She wanted to cry, but she hadn't done that in almost ten months; she wouldn't start today. Halle just wasn't ready for it to be a year already. Halle didn't think she ever would be again.

"Your job is the napkins," her dad told her. "Your mom wants to use the fancy ones."

"Keeping up with appearances now Mrs D is here, then?" Halle asked her father knowingly.

To that, his lips turned up. "Too right she is, but you know your mom," said Nick.

"Yes, for sixteen years, which is equivalent to — I don't know — maybe all my life," Halle said. She grabbed the napkins from the top drawer of the dresser, pressed up against the wall, and brought them to the table. "Believe me, I know her well."

"Well, in that case, you better fold neatly," he jested lighted-heartedly, but Halle never laughed. Nick watched as she hummed in acknowledgment and then lowered her gaze down to the napkins, focusing on the perfect fold.

Nick Brewster was a fairly proud man, known across town by pretty much the entire population of Rosewood. He was a branch-manager at the one bank there in town. He had a good job with great pay and many perks — the large house on Bridgewater Terrace was one. He aged well, with hard features and the same kind eyes he had passed down to Halle. Though, his age begun to show as of last summer; each time he worried about his daughter, another wrinkle appeared carved in his face. Weathered by his love for Halle, Nick Brewster fought fiercely to protect her — her and the family he built for himself.

"So," Halle began. "How was dinner last night? I see Mr DiLaurentis isn't joining us like we thought."

"No, he's not," said Nick shortly, and he carried on laying the table.

Halle quirked her eyebrows up at the man. "The dinner?" she asked. "I asked about the dinner."

Nick sucked in a breath and breathed it out, heavy. "Painful," he said. "Painful but somewhat pleasant. I can't say it was what I'd want to be spending my Saturday evening doing, walking on eggshells and trying not to question how many glasses of wine she had, and this day..." he grimaced, "this damn day." In pure honesty, Nick confessed to his daughter, "I still don't fully understand why your mom insisted on inviting them. Us going to dinner in the city last night with them was enough."

"Mom only thought she'd invited them out of courtesy. I don't think mom thought Mrs D would actually agree. Agree to be sat in a house splat bang in the middle of the house her child grew up in and the house her child was staying at when she went missing, and on the anniversary too," said Halle. Her words were, too, said in honesty — a very blunt version of it. "I wouldn't have said yes."

Her father agreed. "Neither would I." He continued placing down the silverware as Halle put down napkins she folded into triangles. "I suppose, like most, your mom feels guilty. I know I do."

"Why would you feel guilty?"

"My daughter was at the same sleepover, only you came back," Nick said. "And we're neighbours, and she's alone."

She scoffed, "Well, Mr DiLaurentis isn't exactly the sensitive, supportive type."

"No kidding, you'd get more support replacing your shoelaces with dental-floss than you would with Ken DiLaurentis," he told his daughter flatly, and this got a small chuckle in return. Nick smiled at a sound he didn't think he'd hear today. There had been barely any laughter since Alison had vanished and the smiles Halle gave now never reached her eyes; it made him have hope that perhaps, finally, he was staring to get back his little girl — his Halle.

Halle halted her movements, pondering whether to ask her next question — a question she had been dying to know the answer to. She'd only get one if she asked, but she feared it risked suspicion. Deciding she was good liar, Halle asked him. "Did they mention Jason at all? At dinner last night," she clarified. "Did they say anything about how he is, or what he's doing?"

Nick shrugged and said, "Apparently, he's at finishing up college. And he's sober now. He's joined a couple sports teams, put the drink and the drugs behind him. According to Jessica anyway, I'm not so sure."

"Why?" Halle asked, cautious of how it may sound to her father.

"You know what Jason was like that summer Alison went missing, even before that," he remarked. "He was spaced out most of the time. Parties every and any time Ken and Jessica left town. Add that on top of his sister's disappearance and then the college life, it would be easy for him to go back to the drink. It's hard to quit something that was a habit like it was for Jason."

"But Mrs D said he's good? He's doing good?" she asked.

"Yes, from what she said, I believe he is. Why?" Nick asked her, "Why are you asking about Jason?"

"It's nothing, really. It's just... he's Ali's brother and I know I took it hard not knowing, so it must really hard for him— for them," she added briskly before it came across as her being too concerned for the boy. "I guess I'm just wondering how he is, like most of the town, that's all," Halle told him.

"Jessica said he's fine, there's not much more to tell you, Hal," Nick said. "If I'm being honest with you, I don't think they mention him often because of last summer. I hope he's clean, for Jessica's sake. She's going to need him."

Halle hummed, "Yeah, I guess so."

Before anything else was said, two sets of feet came bounding down the stairs. "I'm going to get you!" Myles, Halle's older brother, and their little sister burst into the living room, adjacent to the dining room and connected by an archway. He was chasing her, letting her slip from him just before he touched her.

Myles, the eldest of the Brewster children, looked more like their mother than Halle did and where he didn't share much physical resemblance with his father, Myles was like him traits-wise. Sensitive and smart, he excelled with numbers and figures. He was a star student — a mathlete and played basketball for the school team. He often put Halle to shame as he set all expectations far too high and she failed to measure up every time. Halle hated when he did that.

The youngest, Riley Brewster was brighter than any seven-year-old. She was kind and chaotic, and Luisa Brewster often called her a calamity. Riley had the most enviable trait — she was born with the ability not to care about what anyone thought. She was told all the time that she didn't just look her mother, but she looked identical to Halle, and Riley didn't care a single ounce. Sometimes people even struggled to speak to her and not call her Halle, still Riley didn't care. When she was told she was smart like her brother, she didn't care either. Sweet and innocent and young, she was a much better person than her sister was; she stole hearts with a smile.

Snaking his arms around Riley's little waist, Myles lifted her high into the air. He laughed manically at her, "I've got you! I've got you!"

Riley squealed, "Argggh!"

The child giggles so loudly, it became off-putting to Halle. Halle turned her head away from the sight. Afraid she might cry, she began blinking away the water welling in her eyes. Halle hadn't experienced happiness like her siblings in a year; she couldn't remember what it felt like to laugh properly — not like they could.

"Halle! Halle— it's Halle!"

Riley wriggled in her brother's arms, smile widening at the sight of her sister, and Myles put her down instantly. His laughter and smile had gone. Myles watched as Riley ran to hug their sister, sticking to Halle's side from the moment they embraced. One thing that strained the sibling-bond was that Myles went green with envy because Riley adored the bones of Halle — worshipped the ground Halle walked on, though she wasn't anywhere near as involved with Riley as he was.

And Halle knew it. It was the only thing she had over her big brother.

The shutter-doors opened fully. "Come on, everyone, dinner is ready," announced Luisa. She walked into the dining room carrying the roast-ham; Mrs DiLaurentis behind her with a glass of wine in her hand and Pacha stayed by Luisa's side, eagerly drooling for a slice of the meat.

"I'm starving," Riley said, rubbing her stomach.

"Me too," agreed Myles. "It smells amazing, mom."

"It all looks divine, Luisa," Jessica DiLaurentis complimented. "Are you sure you don't need my help?"

"We've got it covered, thank you, Jessica," Luisa answered kindly. She glanced at her children and made a gesture with her head towards the kitchen. "Will you guys go fetch the sides please?" she asked of them. "And then we can sit up at the table."

"Sure, mom, I got it," Myles said, kissing his mother's temple as he went to pass her.

"Oh, Halle, you'll sit beside me," said Jessica DiLaurentis when Halle went to follow her brother.

Halle's back tensed. She turned her head to look back over her shoulder. Her eyes met with her father's, a sad exchange behind both pairs of dark eyes, and then Halle gave a small smile to Alison's mother. "Happily, Mrs D."

•

Halle was thankful that the past year gifted her with good teammates. They weren't the girls, but they were solid and she'd rather that than be alone, though it took a while to realise it. It was one of the seniors from the cheer-team who took the first step, having grown friendly with Halle at parties last summer. Halle would have never made the first move — she wouldn't. The only friend she had ever chose was Alison; after that, it was Alison who chose all the others, giving Halle the very best.

Her friends now were different from Alison and the girls. Halle didn't have any friends her own age, they were older and in the squad. They were all the same, too. Not one of them differed from the other. They were carbon-copies — like Halle had said, "this one will do," and hit copy.

But still, she wasn't entirely alone.

"Thanks," Halle said, thanking her older brother. She got lifts to school from her brother; she was grateful for her brother and his willingness to drive her places. Deep down, she knew it was only because it was better than the alternative — their mother dropping Halle off and seeing everyone staring at the best friend of the missing girl. Neither sibling wanted to put their mother through that, not again.

"I have basketball tryouts after school. They should run for an hour, maybe longer. So I'll meet you here at five, right? After cheer practice?" Myles said to his sister.

"Yeah, sure. I'll text if anything changes," Halle said. She went to leave, her hand on the handle, when she heard the door click. Halle span her head around and gave her brother a hard look. "You have to unlock the car, we actually have to go in there."

"I want a quick word," Myles said. He was searching Halle's face for any rebuttal. When he didn't get any, he started to search for something else. She knew this look well, he did it often when he was trying to figure her out. "I want to check in with you, check you're all good."

"I'm fine," said Halle.

Myles shook his head. "You're a bad liar, Halle."

"Hmm, sure," Halle hummed.

"Look, this is your junior year and you might think it doesn't matter, but trust me, it does. This is the year to secure your senior year," Myles explained. "You can't mess around, Halle, this is important for you—"

"I know that!" Halle snapped.

"No, I don't think you do," Myles argued back with her. He raised his voice slightly to tell his sister that he wasn't playing. "It isn't the same for us as it is for everyone else. We have to try twice as hard as them because nobody is going to look twice at the black kids if it's not part of their diversity policy, trust me."

Halle rolled her eyes and said, "Not everything is about race."

"Everything is about race," he told her firmly. "In this town, our skin matters. Everything we get is down to our colour, vice versa with everything we don't. You can't slip up, you can't afford to."

"Who says I'm going to slip up?" Halle asked, insulted.

Myles sighed. "Look, you've had a rough year."

Halle cut him off with a scoff. "You think?"

"And mom's worried about you," Myles said. "You need cheerleading to get into a good college."

"Why? Because I'm not smart enough?" Halle shook her head in disbelief, her tongue poking at the inside of her cheek. "You really have been talking with mom, haven't you?" Halle lowered her voice, serious, "I know I need cheerleading for college. It's my only big-ticket item, I know that. I'm on the team, ain't I?"

"That's not enough anymore and you know it," Myles shot. "You need this. You can't afford to have another year like the last. The team is the way to your future. No college is gonna give you a place without it, it's your only way in."

"I get it! Can I go now?" Halle asked him, growing impatient. She was done with this conversation. She was when it began, if she was being honest.

"Not until I get a 'Go Sharks'," Myles told her.

Halle laughed dryly at him. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."

Myles had a large grin on his face. "I want a 'Go Sharks'."

She rolled her eyes, but gave in. Halle shook the pom-poms resting in her lap and with a tight smile, she said, "Go Sharks!"

The door unlocked. "You might wanna work on your cheer," he commented.

"You might want to work on your delivery," Halle retorted. She flung open the car door. "See you later," she said, and then proceeded to slam the door once she had gotten out.

Of course their mother went to Myles. Smart Myles. Kind Myles. Sensitive Myles. Perfect Myles. Why did Halle expect anything less?

"Hey, Halle." Her eyes met Emily Fields. In the space of a year, Emily had changed the least. Still sweet and smiling, she was a rarity — an oasis in the middle of a dry, baron desert. "Hey, how was your summer?" asked Emily. She and Halle were the most friendly of the girls now, the closest to actual friends, but it wasn't the same. No matter how hard they tried, it was never the same.

"Good. Uneventful, which is how I like it," Halle said.

"I get that," mused Emily. She took in her old friend's appearance, her too sporting trainers and a duffel-bag emblazoned with the school colours only Halle's bag had pom-poms clipped to the strap. "I see you're with the cheer squad. Junior captain this year, right?"

"Yeah, hopefully. If I goes the way I want it to," Halle answered. Then, she noted Emily's matching bag and nodded towards it. "I'm guessing your place is on the swim-team again, Em." Even after all this time, Halle still only ever affectionately called Emily 'Em'.

"You know me, swimming's my life," Emily replied.

"I'll be routing for you — Go sharks and all," Halle said, pretending to shake an imaginary pom-pom. Her lips curved upwards into a smile, but she was drained on the inside. The smile itself at faded quickly enough, too, as her thoughts went to yesterday. Halle spoke softly, "It's good to see you, Em. Seeing someone else who really knew her, you know? Yesterday, it was..."

Emily nodded, following with what the cheerleader was getting at without actually saying it."How did you spend it?" she asked. Emily mentioned, "My mom tried to do just about anything to distract me from it."

"Sounds like Pam Fields," Halle joked, nudging Emily's side with a gentle elbow. Any amusement went soon after and Halle kept walking alongside the girl. "Doesn't work though, does it? All Eric wanted was to keep me away from town. My mom had different plans entirely. She invited Mrs D for dinner," she confessed to Emily.

Emily's mouth fell open. "She didn't come, did she? She did?" Emily saw Halle nod with her lips tightly pressed together. "How was that? How is she? I haven't seen her since they moved out of that house," Emily said.

"Needy, sad, drinking — all the things I'd be if I was her," Halle remarked.

"Nothing's changed, has it? We're still those people who lost her, aren't we?" Emily said sadly

"We were never anything more, Em," returned Halle truthfully.

As she went to agree, Emily caught sight of a familiar face and never got the sentence out. She tapped Halle's shoulder, alerting the other girl to the short, dark-haired brunette passing by. Emily called out her name in question. "Aria?"

"You're playing!" Halle followed shortly behind Emily to greet the girl they once called their friend.

Aria Montgomery and her family jetted off to Iceland not long after Alison went missing. It had only been a couple of months, and then the Montgomery's packed up and moved out. It was to give Aria space to heal without being constantly around it all — Halle longed for the same.

"Emily? Halle?" Aria said in surprise.

"When did you get back?" Emily asked, no hesitation as she went straight in for a hug. They embraced happily, joy shared on both their faces.

"Yesterday," answered Aria, now hugging Halle hello. She was beaming like all the dread of the day gone in a blink of an eye.

Halle pulled back from the hug first. She didn't get overly friendly with people anymore. She never used to either, but that was before the girls became her friends. Halle mentioned, "I wouldn't have recognised you if Em hadn't said something."

"I think the last time I saw you, you both had pink streaks in your hair," Emily recalled fondly.

"Yeah, well, when your parents want you to be yourself... and you don't know who you are—" Aria motioned to her hair, laughing it off. "And then you're too scared to do it alone so..." she finished while gesturing to Halle.

Jokingly, Halle bowed her head. "Happy not to let a friend make a stupid mistake alone."

A real laugh left Halle as she joined them in laughter. Emily said, "Well, you both wore it well." The three of them started to head towards the high school, together — like old times. Emily picked up on it and said, "You should have called, it's weird just running into you here."

"Oh," Aria shrugged and said, "well, we kind of lost touch, Emily, remember?"

"Maybe that's what we had to do," Emily said lowly.

Letting out a long sigh, Aria said, "I saw a poster of Alison yesterday."

"It's awful," Emily said sympathetically. "I mean, we all know she's dead," she bluntly added after.

"Wow, Em, morbid much?" said Halle as they lingered on the spot, she and Aria both stunned by Emily's observation.

"We all know it. Right?" Emily asked, looking for agreement, and she got it, eventually.

The bell rung and Aria said, "I've just never heard anyone say it."

•

Emily Fields was too nice. Too sweet and tender of heart, she was desperate to make sure Aria felt comfortable. And Halle got lost within it — caught up in the niceness. It was as if she had gone back to when she had real friends. Being back together was infectious to her — to them. It was like before, when Alison was still there.

"So, I hear the new teacher's really hot," Emily gossiped.

Halle chuckled, "I'm sure Eric wouldn't mind me looking."

"You're still with Eric?" asked Aria, a little shocked, while they took to their seats.

From her very first day, Halle chose to sat at the back of every class she could. Her desk was in the far left of the classroom and she claimed it with each passing year. "Yeah, together for almost a year now," she said.

Aria was about to ask more when in walked Hanna Marin. Big, bold, and fabulous, people took notice when she walked into a room. Bouncy waves of blonde hair and expensive clothes were Hanna's personality. Her lips were always glossed and she was never seen in heels less than three inches. Hanna had changed the most. Somehow, she had morphed into Alison and taken her place proudly.

"Is that Hanna?" Aria asked, gawking at the transformation.

"She's the it girl now," Emily told her.

Halle leaned in, elbows on her desk. "And where there's Hanna, there's Mona," said Halle plainly. She got no enjoyment out of the popularities of high school, but Hanna and Mona sure did entertain her.

Aria's jaw almost hit the floor. Gobsmacked, she said in exclamation, "That's Mona?"

Her reaction amused Emily. Emily said, "Can you believe it?"

"Wow, talk about a makeover," Aria said, raising her perfectly plucked eyebrows. She looked over to Hanna again to now see the blonde smirking, wiggling her fingers at them in a mocking fashion. Aria turned to Emily and Halle; her face had fallen. "What's up with her? Are you three fighting?"

Then, Emily broke the news to her. Emily confessed, "We didn't just fall out of touch with you, Aria. We all fell out with each other."

It confused Aria. "But you... you and Halle?" She looked between them, questioning them both.

"We're the best outcome," Halle offered, though she wasn't convinced it counted. "It ain't much, but it's something," she said, sending Emily a small smile.

Just then Spencer Hastings made her entrance. All prim and proper, her clothes were tailored to fit her perfectly — the Hastings way. Spencer was always immaculate, not a hair out of place. Perfect grades, perfect reputation, perfect daughter. The girl flashed a brief smile at Hanna, not one too dissimilar to the one Halle had previously given Emily.

"They're not so close anymore either," explained Emily.

"So, they're friendly but not friends," Aria concluded, and the bell rang out again.

"Like I said, best outcome," said Halle, shrugging before she reached for her bag.

Emily and Aria followed suit, collecting the items they would need for their English class from their bags. They didn't even notice the new teacher walk in and start to write his name on the chalk-board. People did notice when he turned around to face his first class and his eyes landed on a certain person.

"Holy crap."

Everyone faced Aria Montgomery. It was clear the teacher recognised her and she recognised him by the way her face, like his before, fell. Her phone saved the moment when it chimed, cutting off her stunned reaction. She scrambled to get it; alarm had shaken her as she pushed out a "sorry."

And the teacher tried to start over. "Uh, I'm Mr Fitz," he said. "Your new English teacher." He had a boyish charm about him; he was young, too naïve for a high school teacher, Halle thought.

He wouldn't survive the year.

•

Halle was in the kitchen helping prepare dinner. She peeled leaves from sweetcorn as her father based the chicken. Nick Brewster kept looking at her, checking up on her. Halle picked up on it fast enough; she could tell her wanted to ask her a question, but was going over a hundred different ways of wording it in his head. So, Halle decided to save him the worrying.

"You can just ask me," said Halle. "It'll be easier on the both of us." Calling him out caught him off-guard, but she reassured, "It's okay, Dad. Ask away."

"It's only your mom said Ella Montgomery came into the gallery yesterday, inquiring about her old job," Nick said to his daughter. "You didn't mention they were back."

"I didn't think to," Halle answered with a shrug.

"Aria was one of your best friends, Halle," Nick said. "You dyed your hair pink for her. Then kept it just to annoy your mother, but still. You were close."

She gave another shrug. "So?"

"So? So — you should have told us, that's so," he said bluntly. "Your mom was blindsided by Ella, especially when Ella mentioned Aria said she saw you— ate lunch with you," Nick added further.

"So what if she ate lunch with me and some of the team? She's practically a newbie, I couldn't leave her to fend for herself." Halle said, "Look, I'll apologise to mom for blindsiding her. Lord have mercy, she didn't know every little thing that happened in Rosewood."

Nick put down the spatula and gave Halle a stern look. "It's not about knowing every little thing, it's about knowing what's going on with our daughter," he told her firmly. "We're worried about you."

"Jeez, I just spoke to her!" exclaimed Halle. "I won't do it again if it's that—"

"And Emily," Nick cut his daughter off, and she stopped taking instantly. He had gotten her there. Nick sighed and said, "I thought you didn't talk to any of them anymore. You said that they've changed."

"They have!" Profusely, she argued, "They have changed!" Halle dropped her voice, quietly adding, "...We all have."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked.

She let out a frustrated groan. "What do you want me to say, exactly?"

"The truth, Halle, I want the truth," he said. "Is that so hard?"

"You try losing a friend and we'll see how hard it is, give me a break," she countered in irritation.

"I can't— because of that," her dad argued back fiercely. "That is precisely why I can't give you a break."

"Dad! Dad!"

Momentarily, Nick Brewster's attention shifted from Halle to his youngest. Riley was came running into the kitchen, jumping up and down and pulling at her father's shirt eagerly. "Yes, what's happening? Someone spike your juice box?" he joked, but when he didn't get a giggle back, he knew something was off.

"There's police outside," Riley told them. She sent her older sister a look. At seven, Riley knew far too much; she was far too aware of everything going on around her. "It's for Alison," she said.

Halle's face paled. The corn slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor with a thud. Before anyone stopped her, Halle's legs carried her through the house and to the front door. She opened it to hues of blues and reds; stacks of police cars littered her street as did on-lookers, all enchanted by what was happening in their small town.

The power Alison still had.

"Halle— Halle, honey, come inside," said Luisa Brewster. The woman had just arrived home when chaos irrupted on the street. She had to go through police barriers to get to her own home. Her first thought was of Halle. Luisa had been keen to keep Halle away, but she was too late.

Halle stood motionless on the porch, teary-eyed and the door wide open behind her. Luisa tried to coax her daughter back inside, but failed. Halle took off down the street, ignoring her mother's pleas.

"Halle!" she cried out loudly. "Halle, come back!"

But her cries weren't heard.

Her daughter had taken off to where she had spotted Spencer Hastings before, uncertain of which emotion to feel or let out. "It's Ali," Halle said.

"I know," Spencer replied, and she took Halle's hand in hers. They stood together watching the chaos unfold.

Aria came over. The girl was driving home when she saw police cars rush up Bridgewater Terrace and decided to pull over. She walked up the path and found her once-friends by the gate to the Hasting' yard. "I heard the cops took Hanna to the police station today," she said.

Spencer's head span around. "Wait, you don't think she'd ever talk about—?"

"About The Jenna Thing?" Hanna Marin came to stand beside them. She, too, had been caught up watching the flashing lights and coroner's van. She shook her head and said, "We made a promise."

•

She looked pretty in her dainty, black dress and block-heels. Halle entered the church; her parents were still outside as they conversed with the Father. When her parents came out, they made an appearance; they knew everyone, spoke to everyone. Halle had Eric Kahn by her side, hand on back reassuringly, and he too, like her parents, liked making it known he was in a room.

Halle almost went unnoticed by Eric's side. Almost. She was at her best friend's funeral after all.

Alison DiLaurentis was found dead. Now when people looked at Halle, they started to whisper, "her life is over," and, "she's never going to get over this." And the truth was, Halle believed that too.

She felt someone watching her and she looked up. Her eyes met those of Jason DiLaurentis — Alison's brother. His head was hung low as if he was trying to hide behind his hair, but his eyes still held her gaze. His eyes were green, like she remembered. Jason looked older; much cleaner than he had done before. His hair was a little shorter than it was that summer and his suit fitted him nicely. It was clear he had been told to make a DiLaurentis-effort by his folks — one close to that of a Brewster.

Halle excused herself from her boyfriend's hold and the game of politeness her mother had her playing with anyone who spoke to her. Halle left Eric talking with Principal Hackett and she headed for Jason. A feeling of awkwardness bubbled in her stomach while she made her way to him after so long. She barely remembered how to speak with him, but it came back.

It always came back.

"Jason, hey."

"Hey," he was surprised she had taken the time to come over. Jason had expected to go the day without speaking with her, only to see her in that pretty dress from afar.

"How are you?" Halle asked him the stupid question knowing too well it was stupid and knowing Jason knew it was stupid as well. Still, she had to ask.

"As well as most would, I'm at my sister's funeral," Jason replied.

"Of course," she nodded.

"And you? How are you holding up?" Jason gestured to her and said, "You look good."

"I can say the same about you. Sobriety is working," she said.

He raised his brows at her. "How did you know I was sober?" He asked the question and as soon as he said it, he knew. Jason nodded his head. "Ah, my mother."

"She may have mentioned it— to my folks not me," Halle confessed.

"I suppose I should be glad to hear my mother still mentions me to others," Jason said.

"Well, it was only once, don't take your victory yet," Halle jested, poking fun at him.

A smile crept its way onto Jason's face. He placed a hand over his chest, where his heart would be. "You wound me, Brewster."

"Good," Halle gave him a soft smile in return and added, "it means you've got something to wound. It might even be a heart, or maybe it's just your ego."

He was fighting back a smirk. "Do you always insult the brother of the deceased?"

"Always."

He went to laugh, but it was cut short. A figure approached the couple — Eric Kahn. Eric's hand landed on the small of Halle's back and he looked down at her. "We should join your parents. All the good seats will be taken otherwise," he joked, but it wasn't funny.

Halle could tell instantly Jason didn't think it was funny and she cringed at the thought of how he'd react.

"Was that joke? At my sister's funeral, Kahn?" Jason questioned, frustrated and with anger slowly building up tight in his chest. Jason had a short-fuse temper, especially when he was drunk or high. Thankfully, he wasn't either today, but he was grieving. A mix Halle had yet to see Jason have. She supposed Jason wouldn't give Eric the same as he did her: light-hearted jokes between them in church.

"I meant no offence," Eric said. He extended out his hand to Jason as a truce. The signature, charming Kahn-smile on his face. "No hard feelings," he said. The smile itself would had worked on most, only Eric forgot he went to school with Jason — graduated in the same class — and Jason bought none of the Kahn-crap they'd been selling for years in Rosewood. So, Eric withdrew his hand after seeing Jason made no move to shake it. "All I wanted to do was make my girl smile," said Eric, pulling Halle closer into his side.

Jason watched as Halle seemed off-put by the affection Eric gave her. Maybe it was because of where they were and why they were there. Maybe it was because of who it was in front of. Jason recalled when Halle first started dating Eric and how one night, Jason caught her. He remembered that night well.

As did Halle.

It wasn't late. They had only just starting to see each other properly — after months of bumping into each other at parties since Halloween — and Eric Kahn was still trying to impress her parents. He had her back before ten each time they went out. He was the perfect gentleman. He knocked on the door, bought her flowers, spoke to her parents, paid for every meal. It was Halle's first experience with dating, and Eric was making it perfect.

Too perfect, a part of her screamed.

"Thanks, I had a good time tonight," said Halle politely.

"You don't need to thank me for every date," Eric told her with a chuckle.

"How about..." Halle leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I do that instead?"

Eric smirked. "That could do it."

She let out a laugh, still rather innocent when it came to boys, but she stopped it quick. Halle had Alison's voice in her head, stop acting like a child, he's a man, he wants a woman. Halle sat up straighter and said, "I should go"

Halle climbed out of his convertible, holding the strap of her purse against her shoulder, and she shut the car-door. She went to head up her driveway but Eric spoke again. "Tomorrow," he said, and she turned back to him with a questioning smile on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow. Wear something pretty."

She barely nodded before he kicked up his car and sped off, probably to some college party he didn't want to drag a high-schooler to. Halle couldn't care less about that; she was too busy biting back her smile.

She was starting to like Eric.

"Wear something pretty." Halle heard a scoff from behind her. She looked over to see Jason DiLaurentis by his own car, leaning against the door and watching her. Jason said, "Eric Kahn... Interesting choice, Brewster."

"Why interesting?" asked Halle curiously.

"He's a party boy, and your parents..." he tutted, "they're not the biggest fans of them."

Halle laughed at him. "Pot meet kettle, the biggest party boy in all of Rosewood." Halle said, "And F-Y-I, if you kept it a secret like most people, my parents would like you."

"I don't like secrets, they're really lies," Jason pointed out. He pushed himself off of his car. "Tell me, how would mommy and daddy react if they found out their daughter was a bit of party animal herself? I'm sure they'd love to hear the story about you trashed and dancing on Toni Smith's kitchen table."

Her face dropped. "You know about that?"

"I saw that," Jason told her with a smirk. "Toni's brother went to college with a friend of mine. I used to see you with those cheerleaders. It was weird not seeing you glued to my sister."

"Ali's not my only friend," Halle said.

"Ouch, don't let Ali hear you say that," he joked.

"I know, she'll shave my head in my sleep," Halle quipped, and they both laughed.

"Don't joke, she'll do it," said Jason.

"Oh, I know, I don't put anything past Ali," Halle replied.

"Smart girl." Jason went to go, but he kept glancing back at Halle. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he settled on asking. "Hey, you wanna smoke?" he asked, gesturing towards where Halle knew the woodshed was. Jason saw she was hesitant, so he tried to persuade her. "Come on, I'm guessing you haven't sparked up since that party and I'm not much for smoking alone." He then resulted in teasing her, "Unless you have a curfew, Brewster."

Halle shot him a sarcastic smile. "You know I do. But... I haven't actually gone home yet." She said proudly, "It's a nice technicality for someone whose parents think they're still on a date."

With a Kahn as well, lucky parents," he added, but she glared at him. Jason held up his hands to her. "No more Kahn jokes, I promise."

"Good." Halle walked to him, shoving her purse at his chest and letting him grab it. She used his arm for balance as she leant down and took off her heels, sighing when her feet were released from their prison. Halle stood straight and smiled up at him. "Lighter's in the bag. Let's go, sparky."

Jason couldn't help but let out a low chuckle as he watched her start for the woodshed. He smiled to himself before he took off after her. Halle surely wasn't the good girl he had her pegged down as, nor was she the same girl Alison thought she was — Halle was different. Slowly, Jason was discovering just how wrong he had been about her and he wanted to see more.

He did see more. He got to know more, too.

"Yeah, you should keep her close. She's a good one," Jason said, his eyes firmly on Halle. His words brought her straight back down to reality — from the memory she had reeling around her head. Jason had meant the words he said, too. Had he forgotten how they ended?

Halle hadn't. The night Alison disappeared, Halle lost two people.

"I know that," Eric replied as he tugged Halle closer.

"We better go sit down. I'll see you around, Jason," Halle said, wanting to escape. She and Eric turned and started to walk away, but they never got far before Jason stopped them.

"Hey, Halle?" Jason called out her name, and she came to a stop, turning back around to face him. "It was good seeing you again, really."

Halle simply gave him a smile, the saddest one Jason ever saw. The girl he knew had changed. Gone was the care-free, fun-loving girl he remembered. In her place was a sad, quiet one. It wasn't the Halle Jason knew.

Allowing Eric to whisk her away in search of her parents, Halle put her back to Jason. Her phoned chimed. Without a second thought, Halle dove into her purse and pulled it out, flipping it up to read the message. It was from a blocked user and the message was one she never wanted to see.

ERIC'S GOT THE GIRL,
BUT JASON HAD HIS GIRL.
DOES HE KNOW YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET?
--A.

Her stomach dropped. She felt physically sick. That summer.She glanced up at her side and felt a tremendous guilt seeing Eric, so she turned away. Next, Halle found Jason. At the back of the church, stood by the entrance, daylight illuminated Jason's figure in a halo of white; Halle thought she'd burn in this church.

She had sinned.

"Hey, better put that away," Eric said, and she snapped down her flip-phone briskly. He joked with her, "God is watching."

"Ha!" Halle faked a laugh and slid her cellphone back into her purse, putting aside that message as best she could. She caught sight of Mrs DiLaurentis and said, "I just remembered, Ali's mom asked us girls to sit up front with her. You go sit with my folks. I'll find you after."

"Okay, I'll be right over there," Eric said, and he kissed her cheek.

Jason saw. His and Halle's eyes met afterwards. Jason was watching her and someone else was too — far too personally for Halle's liking. 

Who was A?

Halle joined the four girls, now segregated from the rest: Aria, Hanna, Spencer, Emily and now Halle —the last to be seated. It seemed that finding Alison's body broke the silent barrier the year without her built them. They found odd comfort — a familiarity — with each other. One Halle never thought she'd feel again.

She found herself staring at the photograph of Alison DiLaurentis. Halle knew Alison was pretty. Alison had always been pretty, but Jessica DiLaurentis picked the most beautiful photograph. Alison almost looked grown up. She was a beautiful girl, and her life was gone. Halle felt nothing but pity. Over the past year, she had pent up so many emotions — relief, pain, hate, grief, love, anger — she held them together, congested in her chest. Now, they had vanished. They was no use holding onto them anymore and pity took their place.

Alison was dead.

Gently, Emily spoke. "Poor Ali."

Halle's hand landed upon Emily's hand — the one rested on her knee — and she squeezed it. Their eyes locked on one another and understanding past between the two. As if they had never stopped doing it, Halle and Emily slid back into old habits and their pinkies entwined together. Again, they knew they had got each other once more.

"Can you believe what a scene this is?" Hanna asked, her smile amused as was her voice.

"Alison would have loved it," agreed Aria.

"Loved it? Honey, Ali, would have lapped it up," jested Halle. She playfully slipped into her best 'innocent' Alison impression, with her free hand over her heart. "All this for moi, you shouldn't have."

Spencer smiled, a little chuckle leaving her also. "Popular in life and death," she mused.

It seemed while four smiled fondly at the thought of their mutual friend, one did not. Emily — she took it much harder than the rest of them. Her expressions were ones of hurt and physical pain, torn apart by Alison's passing. Emily wasn't coping the way the others were; she couldn't.

Hanna pulled out a flask and waved it in front of Emily. Emily's eyes locked onto it and she, shaking her head, immediately said, "No, thanks. I don't—"

But Hanna cut her off. "Today you do," said the blonde, smiling softly. Hanna reassured Emily it was okay and after a few seconds of contemplation, Emily politely accepted the flask and shoved it into her own purse for safe keeping; she left go of Halle's hand for that.

There was a wave of silence, until Aria's phone broke it. The chime sounded repeatedly; each girl shifted anxiously on the bench, with eyes glued to the screen as Aria checked it.

"Anyone we know?" asked Hanna, her voice shaking.

"No, it's just my mom sending me a text," answered Aria, relieved herself. When she shut the phone and turned back to the group, Aria saw they all mirrored the fear she had. "Emily and I aren't the only ones who got messages from A, are we?"

Sudden chatter behind them caught Spencer's attention. Her face fell. "Oh, my god, it's Jenna," Spencer alerted them to another problem of theirs. The others turned in shock. They all watched.

There was Jenna Marshall dressed in black, complete with sunglasses and a dutiful step-brother, both at Alison's funeral despite what she had done across them.

The DiLaurentis family then moved to take their seats up front. Again, Halle's gaze landed on Jason; there was no escaping him today. The five girls shuffled along on the pew and let Alison's family join them.

Jessica DiLaurentis learned towards the girls. "Did you see that Jenna Marshall was here? I didn't realise she and Alison were friends," she said.

Halle stiffened on the front pew. "They weren't."

•

Together, they exited the church. The girls had a lot to talk about — texts from a blocked used for one. Their suddenly sparked friendship aroused no suspicion from their parents. In fact, it was understood why they'd want to spend the day with each other. Linked with Emily and Spencer, Halle was hoping to get away without any pitying questions, but she ran out of luck.

"Emily," came a male voice. The girls stopped in their tracks to face the man in a dark suit. It became very clear he wasn't just there for Emily. He knew exactly who each of them were; he listed them off in order of how he saw them. "Halle, Spencer, Aria and Hanna." He definitely knew Hanna Marin.

"Do we know you?" Spencer asked in a polite manner.

"I'm Detective Wilden," he said. The man reached into his inner-blazer pocket and pulled out a card, handing it over to Spencer. "I understand you were all good friends with the victim."

"Yeah, we were," Aria confirmed.

Halle, glancing down at the card in Spencer's hand, realised what this was. She knew he wanted answers from them — to catch them out. Halle suddenly remembered the promise she made: to protect those girls no matter the cost. Halle knew she couldn't provoke him; she had to change the play. So, she made herself meek. "I'm sorry, Detective, but we've had a long day, as you can probably imagine, and I think we'd really like to go home now and grieve for our friend alone."

"Very business," he noted. "Is that your mom or your dad speaking?" Wilden asked her, seeing right through her act. Halle was going to have to do better than that with this guy; he had read up about each one of them and he knew Halle wasn't meek. Detective Wilden looked at them, mainly Halle as though he was scolding her. "I'm gonna need to talk to each one of you," he said.

"We talked to the police when Alison went missing," Spencer said.

"And I intend to go over every one of your statements, as this is no longer a missing persons investigation." He explained, "it's murder." His voice dropped, stern and threatening. "And rest assured, I will find out what happened That Summer."

They watched as the detective walked away, confident in his steps, and then, the girls clubbed together into a circle. Aria was the first to panic. "Do you think he knows about the—?"

"No!" Hanna shut down Aria firmly. "How could he?"

If it couldn't get any worse, all their cell-phones went off at the same time. They shared nervous looks, reached into their bags and pulled their phones out to see a new message.

"Oh, my god," Aria uttered.

Hanna gulped, "It's from—"

"I got one too," Emily said.

Halle looked to her friend and said, "I think that's the point. We all got one."

"'I'm still here, bitches. And I know everything'."

•