Spencer slumped against the wall. “Which means she might want to search my house next. Or Hanna’s.”
“Or Aria’s,” Emily whispered.
“Where is Aria?” Spencer asked worriedly.
Everyone scanned the room. Then Hanna strode toward a girl near the buffet. She wore a black tiered flapper gown and a 1920s hat, and she was holding Hanna’s prom queen scepter in her hand. A pin that read ROSEWOOD DAY ALUM was on her breast. She smiled when Hanna approached.
“Hey there, queen!” she trilled, offering the scepter back to Hanna. “I love how you made everyone else queen for a dance!”
Hanna grabbed the scepter, then frowned. “I did?”
“So innovative—I love it!” Ryan held up her hand for Hanna to high-five. “It’s too bad the decor chairwoman didn’t get pictures, though.”
Spencer and Emily exchanged a look. Aria was the decor chairwoman. “Do you know where she is?” Spencer demanded.
Ryan cocked her head. “Actually, I thought she was with Hanna. Didn’t you see her in the graveyard for your picture? She and the king left for there about fifteen minutes ago.”
Hanna’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t at the graveyard.”
“Oh.” Ryan looked confused. “I saw you leave, so that’s what I assumed.”
Spencer stiffened. “So Aria is at a dark graveyard with Noel . . . alone?”
Hanna swallowed hard. “Oh, God.”
Ryan’s eyes searched them. “What?”
Spencer wheeled around and ran for the lobby. The others followed. All sorts of terrible things swirled in Spencer’s mind. Aria was with Ali’s coconspirator right now, the very person who’d helped burn and ruin and kill. Ian’s lifeless body swam into her mind. That horrific fire in the woods. That twisted laugh they kept hearing high above the trees.
They spilled into the front drive of the hotel and stared out at the busy city street. Spencer turned to Hanna. “Do you know where this cemetery is?”
Hanna nodded shakily. “I-I think so. It’s about a ten-minute walk.”
“Then let’s go,” Spencer said, heading for the sidewalk. “I just hope we aren’t too late.”
30
Digging His Own Grave
Even though the Rittenhouse cemetery was off a busy section of the Ben Franklin Parkway, there was something about the way the buildings hemmed it in that made it seem like Aria and Noel were in the middle of the countryside. Twisted vines surrounded the small space. Centuries-old gravestones jutted out of the ground like crooked teeth. Mist swirled around a large stone statue of an angel. An old, rusted fence surrounded the whole place. A loud squeak sounded from the hinges when Noel and Aria opened and shut the wrought-iron gate.
Aria gazed at the names on the gravestones, then ran her fingers along a large stone cross. Her bracelet glittered in the dim light. She ran her fingers along the links again, and they tinkled together.
Noel came up behind her and snaked his arms through the crooks in her elbows, lacing them around her front. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well . . .” Aria touched the top of an angel’s wing. A bit of her confidence had flagged since sitting at the bar. Was this place really private? It certainly wasn’t a panic room. What if A was listening?
But then she turned around and tried to focus. This would bring them together. And they could fight A as one. “You know I love you, right?” she began.
Noel’s eyes softened. “I hope you do. You’ve been acting so strangely.”
“Of course I do,” Aria breathed. “I’ve been acting strangely because I’ve been keeping things from you, though.” She spoke into her chest, too afraid to look Noel in the eye. “Big things. For your own good. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Noel nudged Aria’s chin back up so she would look at him. “Haven’t we gone over this? You can tell me anything. No matter how bad it is. No matter if it puts me in danger.” Then he stepped away. “Are you in danger?”
“I . . .” At that very moment, her new cell phone beeped. Aria peeked into her clutch at the message that had popped up on the screen. Get away from Noel! Spencer wrote in all caps. He was Ali’s secret boyfriend! We have definite proof!
Another text popped up from Emily: Noel visited Ali in the hospital. Iris knows it for a fact.
And then from Hanna: Graham just told me that Noel was the one who was watching you on the boat!
Aria clapped her hand over her mouth. No. It couldn’t be. There had to be an explanation.
“Aria?”
When she looked up, Noel was staring at her. His gaze drifted down to her open clutch, too. Aria snapped it shut, the breath leaving her lungs. Had he seen the texts?
She backed away, running into a grave marker. Noel stood where he was, his hands crossed over his chest, a weird smirk on his face. Or was it just the light? She closed her eyes tightly, trying to recenter herself. As much as she tried to purge the texts from her mind, to twist this into something innocent—a misunderstanding—a siren rang in her head again and again.
She swallowed hard and looked up at Noel, who still hadn’t moved. “Do you remember that séance we did together?” she blurted out.
Noel smiled. “What do you think? That’s where I got you to like me.”
Aria winced. She didn’t like that wording. “Do you remember when I got locked in that bathroom? Someone turned out the lights on me, maybe trying to freak me out?”
Noel nodded. “I guess.”
“When the light came back on, I saw Ali’s Missing flyer. For a while, I thought she had done it to me. But later, I figured it was someone else.”
Noel searched her face. “Yeah, I don’t know,” he said finally. “Maybe that place was haunted.” He leaned over and smelled a bouquet of flowers someone had left on a grave.
“Why did you come to that séance?” Aria demanded.
Noel righted himself and squinted at her. “I told you—because of my brother.”
“But why that séance. Did you know I’d signed up? Were you following me?”
Noel shrugged. “So what if I was?”
Aria stared at him. Because it matters, she wanted to say. That was how I fell for you. I need to know if it was for real or not.
All she saw, in her mind, were those texts from Noel’s phone. Anything you need. And, Thanks for helping me. What if Ali made Noel follow Aria? What if Ali had whispered, Go in there, Noel, and hit on her. Get on her good side. You have to do what I say. Then I’ll love you forever. Maybe he’d balked when she told him to shut her in the bathroom and turn off the lights . . . but he’d done it anyway.
Noel leaned against a tall headstone. “What does this have to do with what you had to tell me? Is this what you’ve been keeping from me?”
Aria shut her eyes. “Kind of.”
When Noel touched her arms, she tried not to flinch. “Whatever it is, just tell me. I love you, Aria. I can take it.”
I love you, Aria. Something about the way Noel said it right then ignited a memory in her mind. Aria remembered lying in that little bed in the Icelandic guesthouse the night everything happened. Feeling the throb of guilt for kissing Olaf and stealing that painting. Sensing Noel shift beside her, trying to get comfortable. There had been an ocean of space between them, emotionally as well as physically. She had felt, in that moment, that they might never reconnect.
But then Noel had rolled over and taken her into his arms as though everything was right between them. “I love you, A . . .” he’d murmured into Aria’s ear. Aria had thought he’d meant to say Aria, but he hadn’t. He’d said someone else’s name instead.
I love you, Ali.
Aria studied his face in the dim light. She suddenly felt like she was looking at a stranger. I love you, Ali. It was as clear in her mind as though it had only been a few moments ago. Maybe he had loved Ali. Her heart felt like it was tumbling down a long, dark grave. Noel had betrayed her, really betrayed her. She had trusted him, and, deep down, he hated her guts.
Slowly, she unclasped the bracelet and let it fall to the ground. Noel stared at her, his brow crinkling. “What did you do that for?”
“Do you love Alison DiLaurentis?” Aria whispered haltingly.
Noel froze. “What?”
“You visited her in the hospital after she killed Courtney, didn’t you? The Preserve.”
Noel turned away sharply, placing his palm on the flat part of a headstone. “Why does it matter?”
Tears began to cascade down Aria’s cheeks. “What is that supposed to mean? Of course it matters! Did you realize she was the one who killed Courtney? How long did you visit her? How long have you loved her?”
Noel turned around to face her, his mouth an ugly triangle. “No one else was. I felt bad for her. She didn’t seem crazy at the time. And of course I didn’t know she’d killed her sister.”
Aria was so angry and scared she was actually trembling. She’d never heard anything so insane in her life. And suddenly, it dawned on her: That was what the Thanks for believing in me note on the back of the ticket stub meant. Noel believed all along that Real Ali wasn’t crazy. He was the only one who thought she’d been locked up unfairly. He’d been the only one on her side.
She raised a shaky finger at him. “You didn’t visit her because you felt bad for her. You visited her because you loved her. Just admit it.”
Noel blinked at her, his mouth hanging open. But he didn’t deny it.
“And you know, don’t you?” Aria whimpered. “You know she’s still alive. And you knew Tabitha Clark long before we went to Jamaica. That’s why you didn’t want me to hang around with Graham—you were afraid he’d say something to me, connect you to her. Or that you and Ali were secretly together.”
Noel made a strange noise at the back of his throat. “Yeah, I knew Tabitha Clark. But it was only in passing years ago. She seemed familiar to me in Jamaica and on the news, but I didn’t really know, and—”
“And you’re working with Ali,” Aria cut him off. “All this time you’ve been with me, it was only because she told you to be. She made you go to that séance. She had you scare me in the bathroom. She had you get close to me and then betray me so I’d go to the Poconos with her.”
“Whoa.” Noel stepped toward her, his arms outstretched.
She ducked away. “You’re the one we’ve been after all this time. You’re the one who tormented Spencer and Emily and Hanna and now even me with the stuff we did last summer. And now you’re framing us for killing Tabitha—even though that was something you did. You told Agent Fuji on us, too. For Tabitha? The painting? Maybe everything—because you’re A!”
“Aria!” Noel darted toward her again.
Aria lurched out of the way. Her gaze swung around the cemetery, but there was only one way out—the closed gate. She shot for it, but her heel twisted in the wet grass. Noel clamped a hand around her ankle and tumbled on top of her. He pressed all his weight on her. She struggled beneath him, kicking and clawing.