“I need to talk to you, too,” Emily gasped.
Spencer wordlessly pulled her across the dance floor. Mason Byers was in the middle, making a jackass out of himself. Hanna was talking to her father and Mrs. Cho, her photography teacher. Hanna looked up as Spencer, Mona, and Emily approached, her face clouding over. “Do you have a sec?” Spencer asked.
They found an empty booth and piled in. Without a word, Spencer reached into her beaded purse and pulled out a photograph of Ali and Ian Thomas. Someone had drawn an X over Ali’s face and had written, You’re dead, bitch, in spiky letters at the bottom.
Emily clapped a hand over her mouth. Something was very familiar about the photograph. Where had she seen it before?
“I found this in my purse when I was in the bathroom.” Spencer turned the photo over. Better watch your back…or you’ll be a dead bitch too. Emily recognized the spiky handwriting immediately. She’d seen it scrawled on a PFLAG application just the other day.
“It was in your bag?” Hanna gasped. “So does that mean A is here?”
“A’s definitely here,” Emily said, looking around. The male model cocktail waiters swirled. A bunch of girls in minidresses flounced by, whispering that Noel Kahn had smuggled in alcohol. “I just got a…a message, sort of, saying so,” Emily went on. “And…you guys. Aria told the cops about A. Some cop came up to me saying he wanted to ask me questions. I think A knows about that too.”
“Oh my God,” Mona whispered, her eyes wide. She looked from one girl to the other. “That’s bad, right?”
“It could be really bad,” Emily said. Someone elbowed her in the back of the head, and she rubbed her skull, annoyed. This party wasn’t exactly the right venue to be talking about this.
Spencer ran her hands along the velvet couch cushion. “Okay. Let’s not panic. The cops are here, right? So we’re safe. We’ll just find them and stick by them. But this…” She tapped the big X over Ali’s face, then You’re dead, bitch. “I know who wrote this part of it.” She looked around at them, taking a deep breath. “Melissa.”
“Your sister?” Hanna squeaked.
Spencer nodded gravely, the party’s strobe lights flickering against her face. “I think…I think Melissa killed Ali. It makes sense. She knew that Ali and Ian were together. And she couldn’t take it.”
“Rewind.” Mona put down her can of Red Bull. “Alison and…Ian Thomas? They were together?” She stuck out her tongue, disgusted. “Ew. Did you guys know?”
“We only figured it out a few days ago,” Emily mumbled. She wrapped her coat around her body. Suddenly, she was freezing.
Hanna examined Melissa’s signature on her cast against the writing on the photo. “The writing is similar.”
Mona stared at Spencer fearfully. “And she was acting so weird in the bathroom just now.”
“Is she still here?” Hanna craned her neck to look around the room. Behind them, a waiter dropped a tray of glasses. A crowd of kids clapped.
“I’ve looked all over for her,” Spencer said. “I couldn’t find her anywhere.”
“So what are you going to do?” Emily asked, her heart pounding faster and faster.
“I’m going to tell Wilden about Melissa,” Spencer said matter-of-factly.
“But, Spencer,” Emily argued. “A knows what we’re doing. And A knows Aria told. What if this is just some sort of big mind game?”
“She’s right,” Mona agreed, crossing her legs. “It could be a trap.”
Spencer shook her head. “It’s Melissa. I’m sure of it. I have to turn her in. We have to do it for Ali.” She reached into her sequined bag and found her phone. “I’ll call the station. Wilden’s probably there.” She dialed and pressed her phone to her ear.
Behind them, the DJ shouted out, “Is everyone having a good time tonight?!” The crowd on the dance floor screamed, “Yeah!”
Emily shut her eyes. Melissa. Ever since the police had deemed Ali’s death a murder, Emily hadn’t been able to stop herself from imagining just how the murderer had done it. She’d envisioned Toby Cavanaugh grabbing Ali from behind, hitting her on the head, and throwing her into the DiLaurentises’ half-dug gazebo hole. She’d tried to picture Spencer doing the same thing to Ali, distraught over Ali’s relationship with Ian Thomas. Now she saw Melissa Hastings grabbing Ali’s waist and dragging her toward the hole. Only…Melissa was so thin Emily couldn’t quite believe she’d had the strength to coerce Ali into doing what she wanted. Perhaps she’d had a weapon, like a kitchen knife or a box cutter. Emily winced, imagining a box cutter at Ali’s delicate throat.
“Wilden’s not answering.” Spencer threw her phone back into her bag. “I’m just going to go down to the station.” She paused, smacking herself on the forehead. “Shit. My parents drove me here. We came straight from New York. I don’t have a car.”
“I’ll take you.” Mona leaped up.
Emily stood up. “I’ll go too.”
“We’ll all go,” Hanna said.
Spencer shook her head. “Hanna, this is your party. You should stay.”
“Seriously,” Mona said.
Hanna adjusted her sling. “This party’s been great, but this is more important.”
Mona bit the edge of her lip awkwardly. “I think you should stay for a little while longer.”
Hanna raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Mona rocked back and forth on her heels. “We got Justin Timberlake to come.”
Hanna clutched her chest as if Mona had shot her. “What?”
“He was my dad’s client when he was just starting out, so he owed him a favor. Only, he’s kind of late. I’m sure he’ll be here soon, but I wouldn’t want you to miss him.” She smiled sheepishly.
“Whoa.” Spencer widened her eyes. “Seriously? You didn’t even tell me that.”
“And you hate him, Mon,” Hanna breathed.
Mona shrugged. “Well, it’s not my party, is it? It’s yours. He’s going to call you up to the stage to dance with him, Han. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”
Hanna had liked Justin Timberlake as long as Emily had known her. Whenever Hanna used to talk about how Justin should be with her instead of Cameron Diaz, Ali would always cackle and say, “Well, with you, he’d sort of get two Camerons for the price of one—you’re twice her size!” Hanna would turn away, hurt, until Ali insisted that she shouldn’t be so sensitive.
“I’ll stay with you, Hanna,” Emily said, grabbing Hanna’s arm. “We’ll stay for Justin. We’ll stick really close together, next to that cop over there. Okay?”
“I don’t know,” Hanna said uncertainly, even though Emily could tell she wanted to stay. “Maybe we should go.”
“Stay,” Spencer urged. “Meet us there. You’ll be okay here. A can’t hurt you with a cop nearby. Just don’t go to the bathroom or anywhere else alone.”
Mona took Spencer’s arm, and they slid through the crowd toward the tent’s main opening. Emily shot Hanna a brave smile, her stomach churning. “Don’t leave me,” Hanna said in a small, terrified voice.
“I won’t,” Emily assured her. She took Hanna’s hand and squeezed hard, but she couldn’t help scanning the crowd nervously. Spencer had said she’d run into Melissa in the bathroom. That meant Ali’s murderer was here with them right now.
33
THE MOMENT OF CLARITY
Standing up on stage with the real Justin Timberlake—not a wax figurine at Madame Tussauds or an imposter at the Trump Taj Mahal in Atlantic City—was going to be surreal. It would be Justin’s real mouth giving Hanna a big smile, Justin’s real eyes canvassing Hanna’s body as she danced around, and Justin’s real hands as he gave her a round of applause for having the strength to pull through such a devastating accident.
Unfortunately, Justin hadn’t shown up yet. Hanna and Emily peeked out one of the tent’s openings, keeping their eyes peeled for a convoy of limos. “This is going to be so exciting,” Emily murmured.
“Yeah,” Hanna said. But she wondered if she’d even be able to enjoy it. She felt like there was something really, really wrong. Something inside her wanted to break through, like a moth struggling inside a cocoon.
Suddenly, Aria emerged from the crowd. Her dark hair was tangled and there was a bruise on her cheek. She still wore her Rosewood Day blazer and pleated skirt, and looked very out of place amid the other dressed-up people at the party. “You guys,” she said breathlessly. “I need to talk to you.”
“And we need to talk to you,” Emily shrieked. “You told Wilden about A!”
Aria’s eyelid twitched. “I…I did. Yes. I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“It wasn’t,” Hanna snapped, her body filling with rage. “A knows, Aria. A’s after us. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I know A knows,” Aria said, seeming distracted. “I have to tell you guys something else. Where’s Spencer?”
“Spencer went to the police station,” Emily said. The disco lights came back on, turning her face from pink to blue. “We tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up.”
Aria sank down into a nearby couch, looking a little shaken and confused. She picked up a carafe of sparkling water and poured herself a huge glass. “Did she go to the police station because of…A? The cops want to ask all of us more questions.”
“She didn’t,” Hanna said. “She went because she knows who killed Ali.”
Aria’s eyes were glassy. She seemed to be ignoring what Hanna just said altogether. “Something really weird just happened to me.” She drained her water glass. “I just had a long conversation with Jenna Cavanaugh. And…she knows about that night.”
“What were you doing talking to Jenna?” Hanna barked. Then the rest of what Aria had said finally registered, the same way, her physics teacher had explained, it takes radio waves years to reach outer space. Hanna’s mouth fell open, and all the blood drained from her head. “What did you just say?”
Aria pressed her hands to her forehead. “I’ve been taking these art classes, and Jenna’s in my class too. Tonight, I went up to the art studio and…and Jenna was there. I had this horrible fear that she was A…and that she was going to hurt me. I had a panic attack…but when I woke up, Jenna was still with me. She had helped me. I felt terrible, and I just started to blurt out what we did. Only, before I could really say anything, Jenna interrupted. She said that she remembered everything about that night, after all.” Aria looked at Hanna and Emily. “She and Ali set up the whole thing together.”
There was a long pause. Hanna could feel her pulse at her temples. “That’s not possible,” Emily finally said, abruptly standing up. “It can’t be.”
