She watched another movie called “Fight #5,” but it wasn’t what she thought it would be—she, Ali, and the others were making chocolate-chip cookies and got in a food fight, flinging cookie dough around Hanna’s kitchen. In another, they were playing foosball on the table in Spencer’s basement.
When Aria clicked on a new MPEG that was simply called “DQ,” she noticed something.
By the looks of Ali’s haircut and all their new warm-weather clothes, the video was from a month or so before Ali had gone missing. Aria had zoomed in on a shot of Hanna downing a monster-size Dairy Queen Blizzard in record time. In the background, she heard Ali start making retching noises. Hanna paused, and her face quickly drained of color. Ali giggled in the background. No one else seemed to notice.
A strange sensation slithered over Aria. She’d heard the rumors that Hanna had a bulimia problem. It seemed like something that A—and Ali—would know.
She clicked on another. They were flipping through the channels at Emily’s house. Ali stopped on a newscast of a Gay Pride parade that had taken place in Philly earlier that day. She turned pointedly to Emily and grinned. “That looks fun, doesn’t it, Em?” Emily turned red and pulled her sweatshirt hood around her head. None of the others batted an eye.
And another. This one was only sixteen seconds long. The five of them were lounging around Spencer’s pool. They all wore massive Gucci sunglasses—or, in Emily and Aria’s case, knockoffs. Ali sat up and pushed her glasses down her nose. “Hey, Aria,” she said abruptly. “What does your dad do if, like, he gets sexy students in his class?”
The clip ended. Aria remembered that day—it had been shortly after the time she and Ali had discovered Byron and Meredith kissing in Byron’s car, and Ali had begun dropping hints that she was going to tell the others.
Ali really did know all their secrets, and she’d been dangling them over their heads. It had all been right in front of them, and they hadn’t realized it. Ali had known everything. About all of them. And now, A did, too.
Except…what was Spencer’s secret?
Aria clicked on another video. Finally, she saw the familiar scene. There was Spencer, sitting on her couch with that crown on her head. “Want to read her texts?” She pointed at Ali’s LG phone, which was lying between the couch cushions.
Spencer opened Ali’s phone. “It’s locked.”
“Do you know her password?” Aria heard her own voice ask.
“Try her birthday,” Hanna whispered.
“Were you looking at my phone?” Ali screamed.
The phone clattered to the ground. Just then, Spencer’s older sister, Melissa, and her boyfriend, Ian, walked past the camera. Both of them smiled into the lens. “Hey, guys,” Melissa said. “What’s up?”
Spencer batted her eyes. Ali looked bored. The camera zoomed in on her face and panned down to the closed phone.
“Oh, this is the clip I’ve seen on the news,” said a voice behind Aria. The waitress was leaning against the counter, filing her nails with a Tweety Bird nail file.
Aria paused the clip and whirled around. “I’m sorry?”
The waitress blushed. “Oops. When it’s dead like this, I turn into my evil eavesdropping twin. I didn’t mean to look at your computer. That poor boy, though.”
Aria squinted at her. She noticed for the first time that the waitress’s name tag said ALISON. Spelled the same way and everything. “What poor boy?” she asked.
Alison pointed at the screen. “No one ever talks about the boyfriend. He must have been so heartbroken.”
Aria stared at the screen, baffled. She pointed at Ian’s frozen image. “That’s not her boyfriend. He’s with the girl who’s in the kitchen. She’s not on-screen.”
“No?” Alison shrugged and started wiping the counter again. “The way they’re sitting…I just assumed.”
Aria didn’t know what to say. She set the video back to the beginning, confused. She and her friends tried to hack Ali’s phone, Ali came back, Melissa and Ian smiled, cinematic shot of closed phone, finis.
She restarted the movie one more time, this time at half-speed. Spencer slowly readjusted her crown. Ali’s cell phone dragged across the screen. Ali came back, every expression languid and contorted. Instead of scurrying past, Melissa plodded. Suddenly, she noticed something in the corner of the screen: the edge of a small, slender hand. Ali’s hand. Then came another hand. It was larger and masculine. She slowed down the frame speed. Every so often, the big hand and the little hand bumped each other. Their pinkies intertwined.
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.”