Nick thought for a moment. “I had this friend a while ago. She was awesome—really sweet, really funny—but it turned out she had this dark side.”
Ali raised an eyebrow. “Was this a girlfriend?”
“Not exactly,” Nick said. “She was a girlfriend’s friend. A real psycho.”
The word psycho ripped through Ali’s body like a gunshot. “How did your girlfriend know her?”
“Hang on,” Nick said, and there was a pause. “Sorry,” he said, getting back on the line. “I thought my mom was calling me.”
Jackhammers started up in the backyard, and Ali groaned. “What’s that?” Nick asked.
Ali sighed. “Workers are digging this hole in my backyard to make way for a gazebo. It’s the longest process ever.”
“Why would workers need to dig a hole to build a gazebo?”
“That’s the question I’ve been asking,” Ali said, laughing. “Who knows? Maybe we’re putting in a bomb shelter instead. Or maybe this gazebo needs a basement.” She moved the phone to the other ear. “So I’m going to have a party before graduation. Just a small group of friends, but I’d love for you to come.” Her heart pounded unexpectedly. It surprised her how nervous she was asking Nick out. This was the first time since she’d become Alison that she worried about a boy saying no.
“When is it?” Nick asked.
“Friday,” Ali said. “Just at my house. Totally casual.”
“Um . . .”
There was a creak behind her, and Ali turned. Her mother was standing in the hall, a nervous expression on her face. It was the kind of look one didn’t ignore.
Ali clutched the phone to her ear. “I have to go. To be continued.” Then she pushed END.
Mrs. DiLaurentis took a few steps into the room. “Can you come downstairs for a sec? Your dad and I want to talk to you and Jason about something.”
For a moment, Ali’s legs felt glued to the bedspread. Her mind flashed instantly to her mom and whoever that guy from the mall was the other day. The way that guy had touched her mom’s cheek. Maybe it would be better not to go downstairs at all.
“Come on,” Mrs. DiLaurentis said, offering her hand.
Ali didn’t know what else to do but follow her. Her heart thudded loudly as she trudged down the stairs and made the turn into the kitchen. Mr. DiLaurentis sat at the table, and Jason leaned against the counter, snacking on an open box of Cheez-Its. Ali tried to make eye contact with him, but he looked away.
She sat down at the table and stared at the floral centerpiece.
Mrs. DiLaurentis broke the silence. “Honey, we have some news about Courtney.”
Ali’s head shot up.
“She’s been doing really well lately. She isn’t calling herself Ali anymore. She’s taking her meds and getting along with the other patients and the staff. You saw it yourself at the hospital a few weeks ago—she seemed happy.”
“She seemed crazy,” Ali interrupted sharply.
Her mother held up a finger. “Just let me finish, okay? We had a long talk with her doctors, and they’ve recommended that we try her out at home for a while. She’ll be here next week, and then we’ll go from there.”
Ali understood each word individually, but together they made no sense. “Next week?” she asked, then scooted the chair backward. “But what about my end-of-school party? I invited lots of boys, kids from Rosewood Day.”
“We’ll pick her up the Tuesday after—how does that sound?”
Ali just blinked. “But she’ll be here for graduation? The sleepover? She’s not coming to graduation, is she?” And she definitely wasn’t coming to the sleepover.
“Oh, no, one of us will stay with her.” Mr. DiLaurentis placed a hand on her arm. “It’ll be okay, honey. We promise.”
“No, it won’t.” Ali’s voice cracked. “This is a terrible idea.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Mrs. DiLaurentis said gently. “And we’ll be here to help you through it. But, honey, we really think she’s not going to hurt you anymore. Try to look at this compassionately—if it were you in the hospital, wouldn’t you want us to get you out of there?”
Yes! Ali wanted to scream. I wanted that so badly, and you never did!
She looked around the room. Everything seemed different somehow, the walls closer together, the clock bigger, the oven too shiny. Outside, a huge crow perched on top of the tree house, looking ominous. “She’s not calling herself Ali anymore?” she croaked.
“That’s right,” Mrs. DiLaurentis said. “That’s a really good thing, don’t you think?”
Ali wasn’t so sure. Unless she really had gone insane, the most logical reason her sister had for not calling herself Ali anymore was so that doctors would deem her sane and send her home. And then what would happen? Would she take her rightful place as the real Ali and force Courtney to keep quiet or else? Or—more likely—would she figure out a way to get Courtney to go back to the hospital so she’d be the one-and-only DiLaurentis girl again?
“Are you going to tell everyone who she is?” Ali asked. “Will I have to tell my friends? Everyone at school? What are people going to think?”
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Mrs. DiLaurentis said. “Right now, we’ll just try her at home for a few days. We’ll keep Courtney inside like we did the last time she was here.”