And with that, they were gone. “You don’t understand, I’m Ali,” she repeated a few more times, but as they pulled out of the driveway, she realized it was futile. They didn’t believe her. Her plan had backfired. She’d never, ever be Alison DiLaurentis again.

And worse, they’d somehow figured out what she’d done. Perhaps they thought they were being kind. They could have called the police, could have had her locked up in jail.

But it didn’t seem kind to her. She would have preferred jail. At least she would have gotten a trial. At least she would have gotten her name back.

Mr. DiLaurentis’s face was splotchy as he pivoted to the right and started down the street. Shell-shocked, Ali cranked her neck to the side and watched as the cement truck topped off the hole, leveling it with the rest of the yard. She’s buried forever. Her sister’s words spiraled through her head: I just want a sister again. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. It had stopped her, at least for a moment. They passed the Hastingses’ house. Spencer stood on the porch, looking worriedly into the yard—maybe she’d heard Ali’s calls. “Get down,” Mr. DiLaurentis barked, roughly shoving Ali’s head into the footwell just as Spencer noticed the car.

After they passed, Ali sat up again and stared at Spencer’s back. She was Ali’s sister, too. Except all Ali felt for her was hate. When you got down to it, this was all Spencer’s fault—and Aria’s, Emily’s, and Hanna’s. They were the ones who’d intercepted her sister in the yard that day a year and a half ago. They were the ones who’d facilitated Courtney’s ascent into Ali-dom. A new batch of hate flooded her body. It was no longer her sister she was angry at. It was them.

Mr. DiLaurentis put on his blinker at the corner. Mrs. DiLaurentis let out a tormented sniff as they turned onto the main road, leaving their quiet, happy little street behind. Ali peered out the back window, wondering if she’d ever see it again. She would, she decided. She would find a way to come back here, to clear her name. And once she did, she would get her revenge—for real this time. She’d make those bitches pay. She’d make them wish they were never Alison DiLaurentis’s friends in the first place. She didn’t know how, and she didn’t know when, but at least she had one person she could count on to help her carry it out. Together, they were going to make it happen.

Even if it killed her.



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