“Whoa,” Aria whispered. Ali, confessing to being A? That was a new one.

Ella let out a tsk. “I guess she’s trying to plead insanity. Otherwise, why would she admit to all that?”

Aria winced. “Does that mean she might get out sooner?”

Ella shook her head. “Doubtful. In prison, you serve your sentence, and then you can go. At the psych ward, they can extend your stay indefinitely.”

Aria rolled her jaw. Maybe that was so, but Ali was smart. She wouldn’t have gotten herself thrown into the psych ward if she didn’t think there was something in it for her. Probably she thought she could figure out how to escape from it.

Then Emily appeared on the screen, giving a brief recap of how she’d tracked down Ali in Florida. Aria beamed with pride. Emily had told them the whole crazy story yesterday, including the part about Mrs. DiLaurentis hiding Ali, and Emily confronting her, and Ali popping out with the gun. She’d also explained how she’d called 911 but left the phone in her pocket, banking on the call being recorded and the police realizing something terrible was happening. It had been a risk, Emily said, but it had paid off, as the cops arrived just in time to save Emily from Ali’s wrath. Aria couldn’t believe the good luck of it all. It felt like fate had intervened, like the universe had realized that Ali couldn’t get away with it again.

Then the news showed a shot of Mrs. DiLaurentis. Ali’s mom’s head was down, her hands were cuffed, and two police officers were leading her into what looked like a jail. “Jessica DiLaurentis is being charged with harboring a known criminal,” blared a reporter. “Her trial is set to begin next week.”

Then Ali’s father, looking bewildered and exhausted, popped on camera. “I had no idea my wife was hiding our daughter,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning down. “I have nothing else to say on the matter.” For whatever reason, Aria believed him.

“So that’s that,” Ella said softly as she scraped the eggs from the pan and onto a plate. She handed Aria one serving and kept another for herself, and the two of them sat down to eat. After picking at moldy prison food, the eggs were the most delicious thing Aria had ever tasted.

“So that’s that,” Aria repeated, looking down.

Ella cocked her head. “You don’t seem so thrilled.”

“I am . . .” Aria trailed off. “It’s just . . . weird, you know? We were so used to no one believing us. I even got a call from Jasmine Fuji yesterday, apologizing.” That had been a huge surprise. It certainly felt good to hear Fuji say she was sorry. “But it’s hard to actually let go,” Aria added. “I keep thinking Ali’s still out there, plotting her next move against us.”

Ella chewed thoughtfully. “Are you worried about the Ali Cats?”

Aria fiddled with the napkin on her lap. “Maybe,” she admitted. “What if she gets in touch with them in prison? What if she asks them to hurt us, somehow?”

Ella shook her head. “They won’t let her have visitors, and they won’t let her use the internet.” She patted Aria’s hand. “You can’t keep being afraid of her. You have to live your life. Otherwise, she really has won.” Then Ella brightened and pushed her cell phone across the table. “And actually, I have some news for you. In the past weekend, demand for your artwork has gone up tremendously. Everyone wants an Aria Montgomery piece now. Which means you, my dear, have to get painting.”

Aria looked at the email on Ella’s screen. It was from Patricia, her agent in New York, stating that six people had put bids on yet-to-be-painted Aria works. “Wow,” she breathed.

“Right?” Ella’s eyes shone. “You’re going to get to live the life you want after all, honey. And you shouldn’t let anyone keep you from being happy.”

Aria tried to smile, but suddenly she felt another twinge. She did feel happy. But one thing was missing: Noel. Another Google Alert had said that Noel might receive two years in prison because he’d followed Aria to Amsterdam, but in the Ali scuffle, Aria hadn’t heard anything more. She’d called him the moment her phone had been returned to her, but his phone went to voicemail every time. Was he already in jail? What did he think about all this?

She looked up at her mom, suddenly determined. “I have to go do something,” she blurted, and rose from the table. Ella looked at Aria curiously, but she didn’t ask any questions as Aria, still wearing her pajamas and a robe, grabbed the car keys and headed out the door.

The gate to Noel’s family’s house was open, but Aria still parked on the street, feeling apprehensive about dropping in unannounced. As she walked up the path, she relived all the times she and Noel had lay in the front yard, gazing at the stars, or having a picnic, or making a snowman. It was strange to return here with the situation so changed. The grass looked the same, there were the same flowers in the beds, but she was so different . . . and Noel was, too. Maybe too different.

Swallowing hard, she rang the bell, praying Noel’s mother didn’t answer the door—Aria hadn’t seen much of Mrs. Kahn after they’d reconnected, but Noel’s mom hadn’t been a fan of her after Noel was attacked at prom, and she probably blamed Aria for dragging Noel to Europe. Three chimes rang out, and Aria tapped her toe nervously. After a moment, she heard footsteps. Then the door flung open. Noel was on the other side.

He wore a hoodie over a faded T-shirt, and his sneakers were untied. The first thing Aria did was search for an ankle tracking bracelet peeking out from under his jeans. She didn’t see one.




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