by Sara Shepard
For the millionth time in the past hour, Aria wished she hadn’t agreed to this. But she was here now. The damage was done. She took a deep breath. “Can I speak to Noel for a few minutes?”
Mrs. Kahn backed away. “I don’t think so.”
Unbelievable. Aria grabbed the door before Noel’s mom could shut it. “My mom is right there. It’s fine.” She gestured toward the curb, where Ella was waiting in the Subaru. Aria was surprised Ella had said yes about bringing her to Noel’s, given that Aria had disappeared from graduation. But maybe Ella figured that there wasn’t really anything worse the cops could do to Aria that they weren’t already doing. Her mother had spent a good deal of time crying over the last month, but now she just seemed kind of spent and exhausted.
“We’ll talk out here, and she’ll watch us the whole time,” Aria added to Noel’s mom.
Mrs. Kahn squinted at the Subaru but didn’t wave—she probably thought Ella was a criminal by association. “Five minutes,” she said tightly. “Then we have to get to a graduation party.”
She shut the door halfway. When it opened again, Noel stepped out. “Aria,” he said. His voice cracked. He was holding his graduation cap in his hands.
“Hey,” Aria said softly, her heart pounding fast.
It felt like ages since she’d talked to him. Suddenly, here they were, standing within inches of each other on his porch. Part of her wanted to give him a huge hug. Another part worried he’d push her away—she hadn’t heard from him since the arrest. Another part, an angry part, yearned to run.
When he met her gaze, his eyes were soulful, concerned, and uncertain. The bruises on his cheeks had faded to yellow, and the stitches on his jaw were no longer puffy and Frankenstein-monster-like. He had a cast on his arm, too, but he was mostly the Noel she remembered. Aria glanced at the Nike lacrosse T-shirt, feeling an ache. He’d worn it the day she’d returned from Iceland, the first day they’d sort of talked. Did he remember that? Was he wearing it today on purpose?
“Are you . . .” Noel started.
“Have you . . .” Aria said at the same time. She stopped. “You first.”
“No.” Noel swallowed. “You.”
She stared at the basket-weave brick pattern on the porch floor. All at once, she had no idea what to say. “Congratulations,” she finally mustered, pointing to the cap.
“Thanks.” Noel set it down and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. A hawk screamed loudly in the sky overhead. “I don’t believe it, you know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell me, but I think I know who’s behind this. Am I right?”
Aria nodded, her insides twisting. “That’s why I need your help.”
Noel’s brow furrowed. “Me?”
“You were her friend. Are you sure you don’t know where she could be?”
Noel shook his head vehemently. “I have no idea.”
Aria sighed. Above them, bronze wind chimes knocked together. The sun came out from behind a cloud, making slanted stripes across the vast front lawn. “Okay, then,” she said, turning. “I guess I’ll go.”
“Wait.” Noel’s voice was like an oar cutting through water. Aria turned, and there was a strange, tortured look on his face. “There was no e-mail or phone at The Preserve, so we used to have a secret code for when she needed to talk.”
Aria sucked in her stomach. “Have you used this code recently?”
“Of course not. Even if I did know she survived the fire, I would have done everything in my power to hurt her, not help her.”
Aria walked back to the porch. “Could you use it now?”
Noel glanced around the front yard, as though he thought Ali might be watching. “I don’t know. She might not fall for it.”
Aria wrapped her hands around the railing that surrounded the porch. “We’ve been getting A notes—from her. But no one believes us. We’re grasping at straws. Believe me, I didn’t want to ask you, but you’re our last hope. We don’t want to go to Jamaica.”
Noel slumped against one of the Adirondack chairs. “I don’t want you to go to Jamaica.”
“Then help us.”
The door opened behind him, and Mrs. Kahn stuck out her head. “Noel? We need to get going.”
Noel glanced at his mother, annoyed. “One sec, okay?”
Mrs. Kahn reluctantly shut the door again, though Aria could tell by the light through the window that she was hovering close by. Noel pulled out his cell phone, then called up an electronics website on his browser. Aria watched as he ordered a single package of AA batteries. On the order page, he listed his name as Maxine Preptwill and that his address was the Rosewood Public Library. In the special instructions section, all he wrote was: 9 PM tonight.
“Who’s Maxine Preptwill?” Aria whispered.
Noel shrugged. “I don’t know. Ali suggested it.” He gestured to his phone. “It’s a dummy site. Somehow it always gets to her.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “It’s done. We’re meeting up tonight at nine at the Rosewood Public Library.”
Aria’s heart thudded fast. She was at Byron’s tonight. It would be easier to sneak out. “Will you be able to get away from your graduation party?”
“I’ll figure something out.”
Aria nodded. “Okay. We’ll be hiding nearby, waiting.”
Noel looked alarmed. “Just you guys? Shouldn’t you call the police, too?”
Aria shook her head. “She’ll never come if a bunch of cop cars are there. We’ll all ambush her. Jump on her. Throw her in my car. And then we’ll take her to the police station.”
An uncertain look clouded Noel’s face. “That sounds so dangerous. And violent.”
Aria swallowed hard, hating that she’d become someone who even considered throwing another person into the back of her car. “I know,” she admitted. “But I don’t know what else to do. This might save us.”
“Okay. I’m in.” Noel nodded, then turned for the door. His mom shifted inside. “See you tonight.”
Aria nodded, too, pivoting toward the waiting Subaru. She was about to step off the porch when Noel called, “Why didn’t you tell the cops what I knew about Ali?”
Aria whirled around and looked at him. His eyes were wide. His face was open and vulnerable. His beautiful, kissable, pink lips were parted just slightly.
“I-I couldn’t,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Noel stepped toward her. When he was close enough to give her a hug, he reached out and touched the edge of her chin, tilting it up. “I miss you so much,” he whispered. “If I could take all of this back, I would. I wish they’d find Ali. I wish they’d kill her. And I wish, when it is over, that we could be together again.”
His green eyes met Aria’s, and the look brought back hundreds of memories. How hard they’d laughed in cooking class. How Aria had had to hold Noel’s hand on the Batman roller coaster at Great Adventure because he was secretly terrified. The look on his face when he’d picked her up for homecoming. The first time he said he loved her.
She reached out for Noel, but she hesitated before taking his hand. Her fingers remained open in space for a few long beats, just inches from his. All sound fell away. All Aria could see were Noel’s thick eyebrows, his square jaw, his strong shoulders.
“I wish we could, too,” she blurted. And then she ran to her mother’s car as fast as she could. If she’d have stayed on that porch for a second longer, she would have never been able to leave.
29
STAKEOUT
Later that same night, as the digital clock in the bank across the street clicked to 8:56 PM, Emily, Aria, Spencer, and Hanna stood behind a line of bushes at the Rosewood Public Library, a stone building in the same complex as the King James Mall. A spotlight illuminated the library’s front walk. Another light shone on the book return slot, which had been decorated with a blue-and-white banner that said, CONGRATULATIONS, ROSEWOOD GRADS! Inside, the place was locked up for the
night. The aisles were empty, the desks unoccupied, all the seats pushed in. Not a single car was in the lot; Noel had picked the girls up in his Escalade then parked it by the mall. Now, a few paces in front of them, Noel sat on a bench in the shadows, knocking his cast-bound arm against the wooden seat again and again.
Emily’s stomach jumped just looking at him. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. Then again, everything was a bit unbelievable these days, including what she’d almost done on the bridge. She was so thankful that her friends had come to her rescue, and she felt much calmer. But the teetering danger of the situation resonated with her. What if Ali fell for it? Could they really capture her? What if they actually got her?
What if they didn’t?
“He seems nervous,” Hanna whispered, brushing against one of the bushes. The shrubs were a bit thorny, but they wanted to be close to Noel if he needed them—if Ali actually showed up.
“I would be, too, if I was going to come face-to-face with the person who left me for dead,” Spencer mumbled. Aria shuddered. Emily squeezed her hand. “Are you okay?”
Aria shrugged. She’d been quiet this whole time, and Emily had noticed that she and Noel had shot each other a few shy glances. But then, after each look, Aria seemed to pull away sharply, as if ashamed.
Aria peered at the others. “So let’s run through the plan one more time. In a few seconds, we all spread out. When Ali shows up, Noel will give the signal that it’s her. Then we ambush.”
“Aria and I pile on her, then drag her to the car,” Emily added.
“Hanna and I are on the lookout for Helper A,” Spencer said. “And Noel’s in charge of calling 911.”
“If Helper A does show up, we bolt,” Aria said.
“But not before we get a picture of Ali with our phones,” Emily recited. “Proof that she’s alive has got to help us.”
“And if they catch one of us, we immediately call the police,” Spencer said.
Emily looked at Noel again, her heart thumping. She hated the idea of Ali or her helper hurting one of them. Still, it was a possibility. They had to consider every angle.
The bank clock ticked to 9:00 PM on the dot, and the girls took their places. Emily’s nostrils twitched with the smell of fresh mulch and some sort of fertilizer. She scanned the area, but no one appeared at the library entrance. Mall traffic whizzed past them. An eastbound SEPTA train clacked on the tracks. Noel shifted on the bench and checked his phone. The minutes crawled by. The bank clock clicked to 9:05, then 9:06. Dread blossomed in Aria’s stomach.
Suddenly, a blond figure in a hooded sweatshirt appeared and walked toward Noel. All four girls leaned forward. It was a girl.
Emily felt a million emotions rush over her at once. Disbelief. Fear. Hatred. She looked at the others. Hanna clapped her hand over her mouth. Spencer widened her eyes. Emily looked at Aria. Should we do it? she mouthed.
The figure stopped in front of Noel; no one could see his expression. Nor did he give the signal: three fingers held up behind his back.
Still. It had to be Ali. Right? Go, Aria mouthed to the group, pointing toward Noel.
They burst out of the shrubs. Emily’s heart pounded faster and faster as they approached the figure, who was still talking to Noel. In just seconds, I’m going to look directly into Ali’s face, she thought.
Suddenly, the figure moved away from Noel and started running. Emily still couldn’t see who it was, only the dark hoodie over her head. “Hey!” she screamed, chasing after her. The others followed. The figure raced across the two-lane road that connected the library to the mall and dove into a line of bushes. We’ve nearly got her, Emily thought excitedly. Getting out of those bushes would slow her down.
They crossed the street, and there was a horrible screech. Headlights shone in their faces. Emily screamed as a car barreled toward them. “Oh my God!” she cried, the light illuminating Hanna’s outline in front of her. She reached out and shoved Hanna out of the way. The car zigzagged past, missing Emily by mere inches. She tumbled to the grass, scraping her knee on the curb. Spencer fell face-first next to her, and Aria crashed into a road sign. Hanna sat in the middle of the road, looking stunned.
“Are you okay?” Emily asked, scrambling up and running to her.
Hanna nodded shakily, staring at the car’s taillights in the distance. “It came right for us. It could have killed us.”
Emily helped her up, then ran toward the bushes into which the figure had disappeared. She wasn’t there anymore. No one was darting through the parking lot, either.
Then Emily turned back to Noel on the library bench. He was standing now, staring at them in alarm. She followed Aria and the others over. “Was that her?” Aria asked him. “What did she say?”
Noel shook his head dazedly. “It wasn’t her. Just a random blond girl asking if I had a light. And then she saw you and took off. Are you guys okay?”
Emily and Hanna exchanged a look. “I don’t know if any of this was random,” Hanna said shakily.
Noel nodded, fear in his eyes. “Do you think this was a setup?”
Everyone stared at one another, then down the lane where the car had disappeared. No one had thought to get a license-plate number.
“Yes,” Aria whispered. “It was Ali.” Maybe she’d paid a blond girl to walk up to Noel to distract them. She’d probably sensed their plan all along.
Emily looked at Noel, suddenly desperate. “Can’t you try to contact her again? Maybe we can set up another meeting, before the arraignment.”
Noel stared at her. “She already knows it’s a trap. She might try to hurt you again.”
“Yeah, it’s not a good idea,” Spencer added.
Aria looked at Noel challengingly. “No, Emily’s right. We’ve already come too far. We have to do something. Please contact her again.”
Noel’s shoulders lowered. In a defeated voice, he tapped something into his phone. After a moment, his expression wilted. “Site not found.”
He tilted the screen toward the girls. Aria shook her head. “It’s got to be a mistake.”
“That’s the site. I’m positive.”
Emily watched as Aria took the phone from him and pressed the search button once more, but the same results popped up. Her lip trembled. Emily’s heart sank.
“The site’s gone, because Ali took it down,” Noel said woodenly. “There’s not going to be another meeting. She’s gone.”
Everyone blinked hard, absorbing the shock. The writing was on the wall: This had been their last chance, and they’d blown it. They were out of options. Their arraignment was tomorrow, and they were going to Jamaica—to prison—no matter what.
30
THEIR LIVES END HERE
Friday morning. Arraignment day. Hanna stood in the middle of her silent bedroom, looking at all the items on her shelves. She might never see any of this again. She began to say good-bye to all of it, just like how she used to say good night to all her stuffed animals when she was a baby. Good-bye, Dior perfume. Good-bye, Louboutin heels. Good-bye, fluffy bedspread and earring tree. Good-bye, picture of Ali.
She frowned and plucked it from the corner of her mirror, having forgotten it was there. She stared at Ali’s teasing smile and mocking eyes. Sure, this was Courtney, her friend, but if it weren’t for her—if it weren’t for that stupid Time Capsule flag and that switch and Hanna caring so, so much about being popular, none of this would have happened.
“Hanna?” her mother called from downstairs. “It’s time.”
There was a lump in Hanna’s throat as she walked to the first floor. She gazed at her expression in the big mirror in the foyer. Would this be the last time she’d wear a Diane von Furstenberg dress, gold earrings, and leather boots? Tears filled her eyes as she leaned down and gave her miniature Doberman, Dot, a huge hug. “I’ll miss you, big guy,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.
And then she walked to the car, where her mother was waiting. “You ready?” she asked, t
ears in her eyes.
Hanna shook her head. Of course she wasn’t.
Ms. Marin drove them without a word, mercifully keeping the radio off for the trip to the courthouse, which was only a few miles away at the very top of Mount Kale, just past a cemetery and the Botanical Gardens. Hanna gazed over the cliff that overlooked Rosewood and Hollis, feeling nostalgic and lonely. There was Rosewood Day and its sports fields—she’d never sit at a lacrosse game again. There was the Hollis Spire and surrounding buildings—she’d never go to another bar. Even Ali’s old house was visible through the trees. Okay, she wouldn’t miss that place very much. All it held were bitter memories.
A shiver ran up her spine as she remembered the last time she’d been at the courthouse. It had been for Ian’s arraignment almost a year and a half ago. When they’d come back outside, Emily had grabbed them, swearing she saw Ali’s face in the back of a limo. Of course no one had believed her. But they should have.
The car pulled into the courthouse entrance. As usual, protesters marched in a circle on the sidewalk. The same line of news vans was parked by the entrance. Immediately, a gaggle of reporters swarmed them, staring at Hanna through the window. “Miss Marin!” they screamed, slapping at the windows. “Miss Marin! Miss Marin, will you answer a few questions?”
“Ignore them,” Hanna’s mother said.
It was no surprise that the reporters surrounded Hanna as soon as she got out of the car. They thrust their microphones at her and pulled at her sleeves. Their questions were still the same—stuff about Hanna being a killer and Mr. Marin’s campaign and predictions about going to Jamaica. Hanna’s mom draped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the doors. Hanna’s ankle twisted as she climbed up the first step, but she barely felt it and kept going. She barely felt anything.
