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Aria gasped.
The camera swung up. It showed Ian, who was looking at something beyond the camera. Off to the right was Spencer, looking longingly at Ian, not realizing he and Ali were touching. The whole thing happened in a blink. But now that she saw it, it was all so obvious.
Someone wanted something of Ali’s. Her killer is closer than you think.
Aria felt sick. They all knew Spencer liked Ian. She talked about him constantly: how her sister didn’t deserve him, how he was so funny, how cute he was when he ate dinner at their house. And all of them had wondered if Ali was keeping a big secret—it could have been this. Ali must have told Spencer. And Spencer couldn’t deal.
Aria put more pieces together. Ali had run out of Spencer’s barn…and turned up not that far away, in a hole in her own backyard. Spencer knew that the workers were going to fill the hole with concrete the very next day. A’s note had said: You all knew every inch of her backyard. But for one of you, it was so, so easy.
Aria sat motionless for a few seconds, then picked up her own phone and dialed Emily’s number. The phone rang six times before Emily answered. “Hello?” Emily’s voice sounded like she’d been crying.
“Did I wake you up?” Aria asked.
“I haven’t gone to sleep yet.”
Aria frowned. “Are you okay?”
“No,” Emily’s voice cracked. Aria heard a sniffle. “My parents are sending me away. I’m leaving Rosewood in the morning. Because of A.”
Aria leaned back. “What? Why?”
“It’s not even worth getting into.” Emily sounded defeated.
“You have to meet me,” Aria said. “Right now.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m punished. I’m beyond punished.”
“You have to.” Aria turned into the booth, trying to hide what she was about to say from the diner staff as best she could. “I think I know who killed Ali.”
Silence. “No, you don’t,” Emily said.
“I do. We have to call Hanna.”
There was scratching at Emily’s end of the phone. After a short pause, her voice came back. “Aria,” she whispered, “I’m getting another call. It’s Hanna.”
A shiver went through Aria. “Put her on three-way.”
There was a click, and Aria heard Hanna’s voice. “You guys,” Hanna was saying. She sounded out of breath and the connection was rumbly, like Hanna was talking through a fan. “You’re not going to believe this. A messed up. I mean, I think A messed up. I got this note from this number and I suddenly knew whose number it was, and…”
In the background, Aria heard a horn honk. “Meet me at our spot,” Hanna said. “The Rosewood Day swings.”
“Okay,” Aria breathed. “Emily, can you come pick me up at the Hollis Diner?”
“Sure,” Emily whispered.
“Good,” Hanna said. “Hurry.”
35
WORDS WHISPERED FROM THE PAST
Spencer shut her eyes. When she opened them, she was standing outside the barn in her backyard. She looked around. Had she been transported here? Had she run out here and not remembered?
Suddenly, the barn door swung open and Ali stormed out. “Fine,” Ali said over her shoulder, arms swinging confidently. “See ya.” She walked right past Spencer, as if Spencer were a ghost.
It was the night Ali went missing again. Spencer started breathing faster. As much as she didn’t want to be here, she knew that she needed to see all of this—to remember as much as she could.
“Fine!” she heard herself scream from inside the barn. As Ali stormed down the path, Spencer, younger and smaller, flew to the porch. “Ali!” the thirteen-year-old Spencer screamed, looking around.
Then, it was like the seventeen-year-old Spencer and the thirteen-year-old Spencer merged into one. She could suddenly feel all the emotions of her younger self. There was fear: what had she done, telling Ali to leave? There was paranoia: none of them had ever challenged Ali. And Ali was angry with her. What was she going to do?
“Ali!” Spencer screamed. The tiny, pagoda-shaped lanterns on the footpath back to the main house provided only a whisper of light. It seemed like things were moving in the woods. Years ago, Melissa had told Spencer that evil trolls lived in the trees. The trolls hated Spencer and wanted to hack off her hair.
Spencer walked to where the path split: she could either go toward her house, or toward the woods that bounded her property. She wished she’d brought a flashlight. A bat swooped out of the trees. As it flew away, Spencer noticed someone far down the path near the woods, hunched over and looking at her cell phone. Ali.
“What are you doing?” Spencer called out.
Ali narrowed her eyes. “I’m going somewhere way cooler than hanging out with you guys.”
Spencer stiffened. “Fine,” she said proudly. “Go.”
Ali sank onto one hip. The crickets chirped at least twenty times before she spoke again. “You try to steal everything away from me. But you can’t have this.”
“Can’t have what?” Spencer shivered in her tissue-thin T-shirt.
Ali laughed nastily. “You know.”
Spencer blinked. “No…I don’t.”
“Come on. You read about it in my diary, didn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t read your stupid diary,” Spencer spat. “I don’t care.”
“Right.” Ali took a step toward Spencer. “You care way too much.”
