As Aria took her hand, Emily felt…better. Her stomach unknotted and her neck relaxed. Suddenly it smelled so good back here, like fresh flowers. She felt that Ali—the sweet, wonderful Ali from her memories—was here, telling them that everything would be okay.
She glanced at the others. They all had placid smiles on their faces, as if they sensed something too. Maybe Marion was right. Maybe there was something to this ritual. It was time to put the whole dreadful fall to rest—Ali’s killer had been caught, and the whole A nightmare was behind them. The only thing left to do was look toward a calmer, happier future.
The sun was sinking through the trees fast, turning the sky and snowdrifts a milky lavender. The Hastingses’ windmill slowly rotated in the breeze, and a group of squirrels began fighting near a large pine. If one of the squirrels climbs the tree, things have settled down for good, Emily said to herself, playing the superstitious game she’d relied on for years. And just like that, a squirrel scampered up the pine, all the way to the top.
2 WE ARE FAMILY
A half hour later, Hanna Marin burst through the front door of her house, nuzzled her mini Doberman, Dot, and flung her embossed-snakeskin satchel on the living room couch. “Sorry I’m late,” she called.
The kitchen smelled like tomato sauce and garlic bread, and Hanna’s father; his fiancée, Isabel; and Isabel’s daughter, Kate, were already seated in the dining room. There were big ceramic bowls of pasta and salad in the center of the table, and a scallop-edged plate, napkin, and tall flute of Perrier waited at Hanna’s empty seat. On her arrival Christmas Day—practically seconds after Hanna’s mother had boarded a jumbo jet to her new job in Singapore—Isabel had decided that every Sunday dinner would be in the dining room, to make things feel more special and “family-esque.”
Hanna slumped in her seat, trying to ignore everyone’s looks. Her father was shooting her a hopeful smile, and Isabel was making a face that indicated that she was either trying to contain a fart or was disappointed that Hanna was tardy to Family Time. Kate, on the other hand, tilted her head pityingly. And Hanna just knew which of them would speak first.
Kate smoothed her irritatingly straight chestnut-colored hair, her blue eyes round. “Were you with your grief counselor?”
Ding ding ding!
“Uh-huh.” Hanna took a giant gulp of Perrier.
“How did it go?” Kate asked in her best Oprah voice. “Is it helping?”
Hanna sniffed haughtily. Honestly, she thought the meetings with Marion were bullshit. Maybe the rest of her old best friends could get on with their lives post–Ali and A, but Hanna was struggling with not one best friend’s death, but two. Hanna was reminded of Mona practically every moment of her day: when she let out Dot to run around the frozen backyard in the Burberry plaid doggy coat Mona had gotten him as a birthday gift last year. When she opened her walk-in closet and saw the silver Jill Stuart skirt she’d borrowed from Mona but never returned. When she looked in the mirror, attempting to say Marion’s lame-ass chants, and saw the teardrop earrings she and Mona had stolen from Banana Republic last spring. She saw something else, too: the faded, Z-shaped scar on her chin from when Mona had hit Hanna with her SUV, after Hanna realized that Mona was A.
She hated that her future stepsister knew every detail of what happened to her this fall—especially that her best friend had tried to kill her. Then again, all of Rosewood knew; the local media had talked of little else since. Even weirder, the country had been infected with A mania. Kids across the country had reported receiving texts from someone called A, all of which ended up being from jilted ex-boyfriends or jealous classmates. Hanna had even received a few faux-A texts of her own, but they were obviously spam—I know all your dirty secrets! And hey, wanna purchase three ringtones for a dollar? So lame.
Kate’s gaze remained fixed on Hanna, perhaps waiting for her to spill her guts. Hanna quickly grabbed a piece of garlic bread and took a giant bite so she wouldn’t have to speak. Ever since Kate and Isabel set foot in this house, Hanna had been spending all her time either locked in her bedroom, retail-therapying at the King James Mall, or hiding at her boyfriend Lucas’s place. Even though things had been shaky between them before Mona died, Lucas had been unbelievably supportive in the aftermath. Now they were inseparable.
Hanna preferred to be out because whenever she was in plain view in her house, her dad kept assigning little chores for Hanna and Kate to do together: clearing out Hanna’s extra clothes from Kate’s brand-new bedroom closet, taking out the garbage, or shoveling snow off the front walk. But hello? Wasn’t that what housekeepers and snow removal services were for? If only the snow removal people could remove Kate, too.
“Are you girls excited to start school again tomorrow?” Isabel wound pasta around her fork.
Hanna shrugged one shoulder and felt a familiar pain radiate down her right arm. She’d broken it when Mona slammed into her with her SUV, yet another lovely reminder that her friendship with Mona had been a sham.
“I’m excited,” Kate filled the silence. “I looked through the Rosewood Day catalogue again today. The school has really amazing activities. They put on four plays a year!”
Mr. Marin and Isabel beamed. Hanna ground her molars together so furiously, her jaw started to go numb. All Kate had talked about since arriving in Rosewood was how thrilled she was to be going to Rosewood Day. But whatever—the school was huge. Hanna planned on never seeing her.
“The place seems so confusing, though.” Kate daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin. “They have separate buildings for different subjects, like a journalism barn and a science library and a greenhouse. I’m going to get so lost.” She twirled a piece of chestnut hair around her index finger. “I would love it if you showed me around, Hanna.”
Hanna almost burst out laughing. Kate’s voice was faker than a ninety-nine-cent pair of Chanel sunglasses on eBay. She’d pulled this let’s be friends act at Le Bec-Fin, too, and Hanna would never forget how that had turned out. When Hanna fled into the restaurant’s bathroom during the appetizers, Kate followed behind, acting all sweet and concerned. Hanna broke down and explained to Kate that she’d just received a note—from A…er, Mona—that Sean Ackard, whom she’d thought she was still dating, was at the Foxy benefit with another girl. Kate immediately sympathized and urged Hanna to ditch their dinner, go back to Rosewood, and kick Sean’s ass. She even said she’d cover for her. That’s what almost-stepsisters were for, right?
Wrong. When Hanna returned to Philadelphia, surprise! Kate had tattled instead and told Mr. Marin that Hanna was carrying around a bunch of Percocet in her purse. Mr. Marin had been so angry, he’d cut the trip short…and hadn’t spoken to Hanna for weeks.
“Of course Hanna will show you around,” Mr. Marin piped up.
Hanna clenched her fists under the table and tried for a dismayed tone. “Oh, wow, I’d love to, but my school day is so jam-packed!”
Her father cocked an eyebrow. “What about before school or at lunch?”
Hanna sucked her teeth. Way to sell me out, Dad. Had her father forgotten that Kate had stabbed Hanna in the back at their disastrous dinner at Le Bec-Fin in Philadelphia this fall—the dinner that was supposed to be for Hanna and her dad only? But then, her dad hadn’t seen it that way. In his mind, Kate wasn’t a backstabber. She was perfect. Hanna looked back and forth from her father to Isabel to Kate, feeling more and more helpless. All at once, she felt a familiar tickle rising in the back of her throat. Pushing back her chair, she stood up, let out a grunt, and stumbled to the downstairs bathroom.