The door swung open again, and Aria turned her head, worried it might be a nosy reporter wanting to ask questions. But Noel stepped through instead. As soon as he saw Aria, his face crumpled. He ran to her bedside. Byron and Ella moved apart to let him get close.
“H-hey,” he said, trembling.
“Hey,” Aria said. All at once, the dream rushed back to her. Sinking underwater and finding Noel nowhere. Never getting to touch him again. She reached out and squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. And then he leaned forward so that his face was close to hers. At first, Aria thought he was going to kiss her—and she wanted him to.
He moved toward her ear instead. “You saw her, didn’t you?” he whispered.
Aria’s eyes widened. She nodded, then glanced toward the door, where Fuji had disappeared. “But no one believes us.”
“I believe you. I’ll always believe you.”
He drew back, and Aria stared at him, half in shock, half grateful.
Thank you, she mouthed, her eyes full of tears.
But she wanted to tell Noel to forget about Ali. She wanted everyone to forget about her. Her mind went to a dark, terrible place. We won’t find a trace of her, Fuji had said. All at once, Aria knew they wouldn’t. No fingerprints on the gun she was holding. No blood on the floor. No long, blond hairs on the carpet. Not because Ali hadn’t been there.
Because Ali was smarter than all of them.
A nurse poked her head into the room and frowned at all of the guests. “Okay, visitors, everyone out,” she demanded in a no-nonsense voice. “These girls need their rest.”
Noel patted Aria’s hand. “I’ll be right outside,” he said. Aria nodded, then watched as everyone else trailed out, too. The nurse dimmed their lights, and for a moment, the room was silent. Then Hanna reached for her remote and turned on the TV that hung from the ceiling. Serial Killer Taken into Custody, blared a headline on CNN. Of course it was all over the news.
The camera showed the outside of the old farmhouse. A cop shoved Nick into the backseat, his hands pinned behind his back. Ambulances whirled in the background. Aria wondered if she’d been inside one of them, unconscious.
“I hate him,” Spencer said quietly, when a mug shot of Nick popped up.
Aria nodded, saying nothing. He totally deserved this. But he was only half the problem. If only the cops had caught Ali, too.
The police car rolled away on the screen, but the cameras remained on the police activity on the farmhouse for a moment. It was crawling with police officers, forensic teams, and dogs. Aria listened hard over the sounds of sirens for that telltale high-pitched giggle, anything that would prove Ali was still here. But there was nothing. Of course there wasn’t.
“What now?” she asked, when the news cut to commercial.
Spencer sighed. “It’s hard to know. We lost everything. But now maybe we can do anything.”
Anything. They stared at one another, absorbing the possibilities.
Hanna looked down at her phone, which was still tucked in her pocket. “I keep expecting this to go off any second.”
“With a text,” Spencer whispered.
Aria stared at her phone, too, but no texts came. They wouldn’t, of course. Ali wasn’t dumb enough to send one right then.
Aria looked at her friends nervously. “Do you think we’ll ever hear from her again?”
Hanna shook her head, a look of determination on her face. “No. It’s done.”
“Definitely,” Spencer agreed.
But Aria knew they didn’t quite believe it. They might not hear anything from Ali for a while—maybe a long while. But she wasn’t gone from their lives forever. She was still out there . . . and they were still alive . . . and that meant her job wasn’t done. Knowing her, she’d only stop when she got what she wanted. She’d only stop when they were dead.
It was just a question of when.
ALI, INTERRUPTED
Alison ran and ran until her muscles ached and her lungs burned. The more she ran, the less she thought, and the less she thought, the less she cared. And by the time she was where she needed to go, she was resolved in her decision. This was the only solution. She’d saved herself.
She walked up to the place she’d set up weeks before without Nick knowing, the place that was all her own. She pulled the keys out of a secret pocket sewn into her jeans and unlocked the door, striding down the dark hall and sinking into the freshly made bed without even glancing at the pile of mail she’d left there the last time she’d come in, all addressed to Maxine Preptwill, her new alias. It was always a name she’d found funny, sort of an anagram of Nick Maxwell and also the name she’d used with Noel for their secret communiqués. For a long time she’d thought about what sort of person Maxine would be. A quiet girl who kept to herself. A friendly face around the neighborhood, a standout at the community college she would eventually enroll in with the remaining cash from Nick’s trust—she’d tucked away small amounts every time she came here, building up a nest egg. She’d use it to get her teeth fixed, too. Her hair properly cut. Plastic surgery for the burns. She’d become beautiful and irresistible again. She needed to put someone new under her spell.
She lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling, her mind working over the day’s events. She poked at the Nick wound, but she felt nothing. Well, good. It was better to feel nothing. No regrets. No entanglements. She was free.
She thought about turning on the television—she’d jerry-rigged the antenna with aluminum foil so she could at least get the news. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to see the carnage yet. Man Arrested for Clark Murder. Pretty Little Liars Finally Tell the Truth. And there would be Nick’s mug shot, his hollowed eyes, his dazed expression. He was the smartest guy Ali knew, but he still wouldn’t know what had hit him.