Wanted

That was the first day Ali had ever talked to any of them, and for a while, she’d seemed almost friendly. She didn’t even stop the conversation when Mrs. DiLaurentis stepped out on the porch and told Ali she was leaving. Looking back on it now, Emily wondered if Ali’s family was taking Courtney to the Preserve, the new facility. If she’d paid more attention to the DiLaurentises’ Mercedes as it pulled away from the house, would she have seen a face eerily identical to Ali’s in the backseat?



The waitress approached their table and asked if they’d decided what they wanted for breakfast. Carolyn ordered a western omelet, and Emily requested a Belgian waffle. After the waitress strode away, Carolyn dumped a container of creamer into her coffee mug. “Courtney seems really different than Ali.”



Emily stirred her hot chocolate, trying to remain neutral. “Why do you say that?”



“I’m not sure. I can’t really put my finger on it, but the differences are there.”



The bell on the counter rang. The waitress carried two trays of food in her arms, teetering slightly beneath the weight. Emily wished she could tell Carolyn the truth about Ali, but Ali had sworn her to secrecy. Emily wondered just how long Ali would have to pretend to be Courtney. Until she was eighteen? Forever?



Carolyn raised an eyebrow, looking past Emily at something out the window. “Isn’t that Officer Wilden?”



Emily turned. Two people were huddled together across the parking lot. A blond girl in a checkered coat was talking to a familiar cop. It was Wilden and Spencer’s sister, Melissa. Whatever they were saying looked heated.



Melissa shook her finger in Wilden’s face. Wilden said something back, waving his hand like he didn’t believe what Melissa was saying. Melissa threw her hands in the air in apparent frustration, and Wilden walked away. She called out to him, but he didn’t turn around.



“Whoa,” Carolyn said quietly. “What was that all about?”



“No clue,” Emily said softly.



The door of the diner opened, and two guys in Tate Prep Diving warm-up jackets strutted in. Carolyn turned back to Emily, taking another sip of coffee. “So are you and Isaac going to the Valentine’s Day dance? I haven’t seen him around lately.”



Isaac. For a moment, Emily couldn’t even remember her old boyfriend’s face. Not long ago, she’d thought Isaac Colbert was the love of her life—enough even to sleep with him. But then he hadn’t believed Emily when she told him that his mother was tormenting her. It felt like it had happened a millennium ago. “Uh…I doubt it.”



“What happened?”



Emily pretended to be fascinated by the laminated place mat in front of her, a kitschy, fact-filled map of the United States. Her parents and sister still thought she’d gone on a choir trip to Boston with Isaac a few weeks ago, but she’d really been in Amish Country, unearthing information on Wilden’s past. When the cops brought Emily home the night she’d almost broken into the Rosewood PD evidence room—the same night Jenna was killed—she’d told her mom she was dressed in Amish garb for a role-playing game she’d taken part in during the Boston trip. Emily was pretty sure her mom didn’t believe her, but Mrs. Fields hadn’t pressed the issue.



After a couple of seconds of Emily not answering, Carolyn shifted her weight, a smile crawling across her face. “You’re not with Isaac anymore, are you?”



“No,” Emily admitted, choosing her words carefully. “I like someone else.”



Carolyn’s eyes widened. It probably wasn’t hard for her to guess who: Mona-as-A had made Emily’s longtime crush on Ali very plain to the entire school.



“Is Courtney…like that?” Carolyn whispered.



“I don’t know.” Emily pressed her thumb into the tines of the fork. I always wanted to do that again, Ali had said. Was Ali like that? Why else would she say those things?



The waitress set down their plates. Emily stared at her syrup-and-butter-laden waffle. She was suddenly too nervous to be hungry.



Carolyn placed her palms flat on the table. “You should ask her to the dance,” she decided.



“I can’t!” Emily exclaimed, a little surprised that her sister was being so open-minded.



“Why not? What do you have to lose?” Carolyn popped a bite of omelet into her mouth. “You can ride with me and Topher. We’re renting a limo.” Topher was Carolyn’s longtime boyfriend.



Emily opened her mouth, and then shut it again. Carolyn didn’t understand. This wasn’t a normal crush like the one she had on Maya or Isaac. For years she’d thought of being with Ali, of going to Stanford with her and then maybe—if she was lucky—getting a little house together with one of those cute rooster weather vanes out front. The idea of coming on too strong and ruining her chances with Ali paralyzed Emily. Ali’s opinion meant everything, and if Ali rejected her, Emily wasn’t sure what she’d do. There was no risk in getting crushed if she kept her feelings to herself.



Emily’s phone buzzed again, and she yanked it open. Ali had texted back with a line of Xs. Then again, what if Ali wanted this, too?



17



WHO’S AFRAID OF THE BAD, BIG SISTER?



Around the same time that morning, Spencer climbed into Melissa’s idling SUV and waited as her sister ran inside to get her sunglasses. In a rare show of helpfulness, Melissa had offered to drive Spencer to school. Spencer dropped her Kate Spade tote on the backseat. The car smelled overpoweringly of cinnamon gum, and the radio blared. “After a message from our sponsors, we’ll discuss the photographs that shed new light on the Rosewood Serial Killer case,” a reporter announced.



The broadcast cut to a commercial for Treasures in the Attic, a local antique shop, and Spencer snapped the radio off. She’d received a text from Aria this morning about the photos she’d found in the woods, but Spencer hadn’t seen them yet. All she knew was that the photographer might be a girl. Spencer had been doing her best to ignore the inconsistencies in the case against Billy, but now…



An icy hand curled over Spencer’s hand and she jumped. “Earth to Spencer,” Melissa chirped, slamming the door. “Are you in there?”



“Sorry,” Spencer said as Melissa pulled out of the driveway and almost backed into the Jenna shrine. It had grown to three times its original size. The Ali shrine at the base of the DiLaurentises’ old curb was going strong, too, full of candles, flowers, stuffed bears, and old photos of Ali as a kid.



If only people really knew, Spencer thought. The girl in those old photos was still alive. It was so hard to believe.



Melissa was eyeing the Ali shrine, too. “Has Courtney seen that?” she asked.



Spencer’s stomach swooped. It was strange to hear the name Courtney now that she knew the truth. “I don’t know.”



At the end of the street, Mrs. Sullivan, who lived on the corner, was out walking her two Shetland sheepdogs. Melissa turned out of their neighborhood, and they drove in silence for a few minutes, sweeping past Johnson Farm, which sold organic butter and veggies, and then the big township park. A couple of people were jogging, their heads down and braced against the wind.



Melissa pushed her aviators to the top of her head and glanced at Spencer out of the corner of her eye. “Have you hung out with Courtney at all?”



“Uh-huh,” Spencer answered, pulling the sleeves of her coat over her bare hands.



Melissa tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”



They paused at a stop sign. A squirrel darted across the road, its bushy tail high in the air. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Spencer asked.



Melissa tapped her left foot on the floor. “You don’t know much about her. When Jason told me about her, he said she was really unstable.”



Then she hit the gas again, jolting across the intersection. Spencer wished she could tell Melissa exactly what she didn’t know—that the unstable sister was dead. “You’ve never even spoken to her,” she said instead.



Melissa’s voice hardened. “I just think you should be careful with her. Don’t jump into a friendship too fast.”



They pulled up the drive of Rosewood Day and came to a stop behind a bunch of yellow school buses. Kids trudged down the bus steps and ran to the double doors, eager to escape the biting cold. Spencer pointed at her sister accusingly. “You’re just saying that because you hated Ali and you don’t like Courtney by extension.”



Melissa rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a drama queen. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”



“Sure you don’t,” Spencer growled. “Because you’ve certainly never tried to hurt me.” She jerked the door open, climbed out, and then slammed it behind her.



The halls smelled like freshly baked pastries from Steam. As Spencer approached her locker, Ali emerged from the bathroom. Her blue eyes twinkled, perfectly matching her school blazer. “Hey!” she cried, wrapping an arm around Spencer’s shoulders. “Just the person I wanted to see. We’re going to get ready for the dance tomorrow together, right?”



“Yeah,” Spencer said, spinning the combination dial of her locker too fast and missing one of the numbers. Frustrated, she kicked the metal door.



Ali frowned. “Is something wrong?”



Spencer rolled her head around her neck, trying to settle down. “Melissa is driving me crazy.”



Ali put her hands on her hips. A couple of guys on the soccer team passed, giving her appreciative whistles. “Did you have another fight about your mom?”



“No…” Spencer finally got her locker open. She shrugged out of her coat and jammed it on the hook. “Actually, it was about you.”



“Me?” Ali pressed her palm to her chest.



“Yeah.” Spencer barked out a laugh. “I told her we were hanging out. She said I should stay away from you.”



Ali picked at an invisible imperfection on her blazer. “Well, maybe she’s looking out for you.”



Spencer sniffed. “You know Melissa. She definitely wasn’t looking out for me.”



A muscle in Ali’s neck tensed. “So why did she say it?”



Spencer chewed on her bottom lip. Melissa and Ali had never gotten along. Ali was the only one who hadn’t sucked up to Melissa back then. Right before she’d disappeared, Ali had even teased Melissa that Ian might get a new girlfriend while Melissa was on vacation in Prague. And Melissa had definitely suspected that Ali was fooling around with Ian. A couple of months ago, Spencer and Melissa were in the family’s hot tub in the backyard, and Melissa said she’d known that Ian had cheated on her in high school. “Ian is going to regret it for the rest of his life,” she’d said. Spencer asked what she was going to do to the girl he’d cheated with, and Melissa smiled deviously. “Who says I haven’t done something to her already?”



A locker slammed close by. Someone’s cell phone tinkled. The between-classes music halted, a clear indication that they had to get to homeroom. Spencer glanced up at Ali, who was staring at her, probably wondering what she was thinking. “Do you think there’s any way Melissa could know you aren’t Courtney?” she asked.