A/N: Hey y'all, I'm back for a limited time (aka tonight) with an awesome one-shot that I started waaay back in the day. And when I say waaay back, I mean waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back, we're talking, like, pre what-the-heck-is-Ezra-doing and definitely pre Ezra-gets-shot. In other words, most of this was written before "Free Fall" (4x20), but I read the spoilers so I knew about Ezra's sketchy book-writing-ness, and when it was more of a rumor that he was going to get shot/fall off a building or something. Anyway, this takes place after the season four finale and it's a bit different because, like I said, I started writing it before I knew how the rooftop scene was going to go down, so...yeah.

Enjoy, love Ezria and Sparia and whatever other ships you love, and hopefully I'll see you soon with other updates!

Bullet in the Dark

No matter how hard Spencer Hastings tried, she couldn't forget the sound of the gunshot from that night for a second of peace.

Sitting across from Spencer with a toiling expression on her face was Aria Montgomery. Her eyes darted to the crucifix on the wall, to the stain glass window, to the bible opened to the story of Jonah and the whale, to the candles burning brightly in the dimly lit hospital chapel. She was looking at anything except Spencer. Frowning, Spencer drew her feet up on the seat and squished herself into a ball, feeling guilty. She placed her forehead on her knees and closed her eyes to block out the light. However, it was still no use; the scene kept playing out behind her eyelids, too.

Finally, a tiny, weak voice broke her solitary turmoil. "Spencer?" Aria squeaked.

Spencer's heart leapt when she heard Aria speak. For a while she thought her best friend would never forgive her (after all, it was partially her fault for what had happened—or, more likely, what she had assumed). But now Aria, broken and beaten down, opened her mouth.

"Yes?" Spencer spoke softly, trying to be as kind and sympathetic as she could to her friend.

"I want to say this before Emily and Hanna come back," she whispered while adjusting the hoodie she wore. Spencer flinched when she saw the blood stains on Aria's pants and jacket pockets, remembering that she had practically washed Aria's hands for her in the hospital bathroom a few moments ago, the red-tinted water swirling down the drain as Aria stared numbly at her somber reflection in the mirror. Gulping, Aria's eyes, glinting with fear, bore into Spencer's. "I'm scared."

"And you have every right to be," Spencer croaked. Daringly she stood up and sat next to Aria, pulling her into a hug. It was the first time Spencer had forgotten the blood on Aria's clothes.

"No." Aria's voice quivered. "I'm scared that I won't be able to say goodbye."

"What?" Spencer gaped, her mind spinning. "No, Aria. He's going to be fine."

"You don't know that," Aria snapped, her voice rising. Her hysterical expression shifted, however, and she crumbled. "When you ran after Wren…"

"Oh God," Aria gasped as she peered down at the cement two stories down. "It's too far to jump."

"Ali," Emily panted, grabbing Ali's arm. "We have to go back."

"No!" Ali screamed while shoving Emily off. "We all saw him! We can't risk going back into the school."

"But the only way is to jump!" Hanna shrieked. "And I'm pretty sure none of us want to die, Ali."

"Listen," Ali spoke up, her jaw clenched. "Wren is dangerous. He took over Mona's crazy A idea and turned it into something insane. Now he has a gun." She enunciated the last word. "This is it," she said, defeated. "It's really over."

"Don't say that, Alison!" Spencer yelled. "We have a minute, two tops, until he finds us up here. Instead of ranting about your poor judgment, we should be planning an escape."

Unbeknownst to the Liars, Wren had stealthily entered the rooftop entrance and crouched in a corner. He snickered silently to himself, his shoulders moving up and down as he squinted his eyes and cocked the gun slowly. Earlier that week, he had learned that Ezra had found him out, so he knew exactly who he was going to aim at first.

As the girls fought and panicked, Aria crossed her arms at her chest and took a couple steps back to clear her mind. She had no idea a gun was being aimed at her or that she was making herself an extremely easy target by breaking away from the group. Suddenly, a voice called out from the rooftop doors, "Aria?" Eyes wide and swirling with emotions, Aria looked up. It was Ezra.

Blinking, Ezra allowed his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness before noticing the shadow in the corner. "Look out!" he yelled, but that wasn't enough time for Aria to react, so he jumped in front of her instead. The gunshot rang out.

With a shriek, Aria scampered backwards as Ezra fell to the ground, his hand clasping his side. Moaning, he gritted his teeth and prayed that that was Wren's last bullet. "The police are coming for you," Ezra called out with his best ability to a still-hidden Wren. As soon as he said that, a siren went off in the near distance. Inwardly he smiled knowing that finally this A thing might be over.

Breathing heavily, Wren stepped out of the darkness, the gun still pointed at Aria, who was now shaking from shock yet somehow still standing. When Ezra's words processed in his head, he quickly jammed the gun back in his pocket and made a dash for it. Spencer whooshed right behind him, followed by Emily. Only Hanna, Ali, and Aria stayed behind.

"Ezra," Aria whimpered while collapsing to the ground.

"Hey," he whispered in his best attempt at lightening a dark situation. "I told you I couldn't stay away from you."

"Shut up," Aria ordered bitterly, her eyes tearing up. She was still so broken, so angry, at him. How could she feel bad for him even now? But then she saw his eyelids fluttering and the breath was caught in her throat. "Don't," she croaked.

"Don't," Ezra panted, finding it hard to speak and breathe, "w-what?"

"Close your eyes," she responded. Hanna, who also had tears in her eyes, sent a despondent look to Alison. Despite the dire circumstances, Alison seemed unfazed, probably pissed that Aria had stolen away a guy she'd neutrally dated for a short time. "Keep them open, please."

However, Ezra couldn't deny that his vision was getting fuzzy. "I'll try," he stammered, attempting to block out the colors flashing in front of him. He had to keep his eyes open. For her. Because she was telling him to, and he could hear the strain in her voice as she attempted to keep her true emotions buried deep underneath.

"Please," Aria repeated, turning hopeless. Realization had dawned on her as she crumbled in front of him: She still loved him. Even after he'd taken her heart and crushed it in his fist, she still loved him more than she wanted to admit. "Don't."

Gulping, Ezra looked up at Aria's tear-stained face and was flooded with memories, good and bad. He wished he'd known before walking into the bar that day. Maybe then he would have walked away from her and prevented her feeling the level of betrayal he had caused. Just have walked away and finished his book, the book he'd left abandoned on the forest floor even when he had the chance to go back and pick it up. He was done with that book, he realized. He was done with a successful head start in his dream career. All he really wanted now was Aria.

If only he'd told her from the time they met, "I'm writing a book about your friend. I knew her once, but our relationship was mostly mutual. This might sound crazy, but I'm going to fall in love with you. And then I'm going to stop writing that book and collecting information that was clearly betraying your trust. But then I'll pick it up again and notice that what I had written down could help you and your friends, maybe even Alison, end this torture. You know who A is, right? Of course you don't. It hasn't started yet. But this 'A' person is everywhere and nowhere, and I want to help. I want to set you free, Aria. Just let me show you what I found."

Ezra had found out about Wren a few weeks ago after countless months of interviews and research. To his discomfort and surprise he'd successfully hacked into A's computer system and watched the countless photos being taken file in. Then he'd installed cameras of his own in his apartment and cabin, in case A found out about his clandestine stalker-ish research and tried breaking in. What Ezra learned the most from, though, was that wherever the girls were, A was there, too. With all of that info he had somehow put the pieces together—Wilden, Garrett, Cece, Grunwald, Mona—and solved the never-ending mystery. It was a good thing Aria had trashed his collection of notes, newspaper clippings, and timelines; by that point, he didn't need it anymore and was on his way to find Ali to bring her home.

But then Ali had returned to Rosewood and Ezra had driven to Ravenswood, where he'd last tracked Alison down and talked to her, for nothing. And now he was in this mess.

"Ezra," Aria croaked, and Ezra was snapped back into the fading present. By this point she was gritting her teeth to prevent her bottom lip from trembling. "Don't," she reiterated for the multiple time, the word becoming more of a plea than a command.

Ezra wasn't really sure what there was left to say, but he spoke anyway. "I never meant to hurt you that day at the bar," he said, though it hurt for his chest to rise and fall. "I never meant for any of this." Gazing up at her now, he smiled faintly and with a trembling hand reached out and tenderly grazed the back of his hand against her cheek; he hadn't noticed she was crying until his skin had picked up her salty tears. Despite her bloodshot eyes and distressed face, she looked beautiful under the moonlight. He was so glad for a brief time she'd been his. "I just wanted to keep you safe."

"No," Aria croaked when it dawned on her that Ezra's eyes were staying close. "Don't." But Ezra didn't respond. "Ezra, don't!" she shrieked before everything came tumbling down on her and she started to sob.

Pitifully Hanna watched the horrific scene unfold, in shock that her former English teacher was dying right in front of her eyes. Crumbling, Aria shakily curled into a ball and placed her head on Ezra's barely moving chest and her hand on the bullet wound, as though her touch would magically heal it. She was getting blood on her clothes, but she didn't care. Her tiny body contracting, she clamped her eyes shut tightly and freely let her agony take over. She just wanted him to wake up and tell him she believed him—because she hadn't expected to fall in love with him either.

Aria's tiny bit of hope trudged forward when, through the thin fabric of his sweater, Aria made out a barely audible heartbeat. It was the same lulling rhythm she'd fallen asleep to on the nights one of her friends had been her alibi, or what eased out her worries while curled up watching a movie. But it wasn't until that moment that Aria was truly grateful for its comforting properties.

For all she knew, it might be the last time she'd ever hear it.

Back to the present, Aria fell apart again into Spencer's arms. She didn't really know what to say anymore. She just wanted to know if Ezra was going to make it so she could prepare herself if he wasn't.

Sighing, Spencer pulled her delicate friend away and looked her directly in the eye. "Aria, I'm sorry. I was wrong about Ezra. Yes, what he did was wrong, but...he loves you. I'm not saying you should forgive him right away, but you should consider it."

"I don't know, Spence," Aria replied with a stuffy nose. "I believe him, but I don't forgive him. It's weird, isn't it? You'd think I'd forgive him after something like this, but…"

Aria was interrupted by the doctor calling her name. The dreadful lump sunk deeper into her stomach. The news was finally here. "Mr. Fitz is still unconscious," the doctor explained, "but he should awaken soon."

"Oh God," Aria sighed in relief as she placed a hand to her heart and looked up at the painting of Mary on the wall. Instantly her eyes swam with more tears and she encased Spencer in another hug. "See?" Spencer chirped while squeezing her tiny friend. "I told you."

…

A week later, Aria was sitting in the hospital chair next to a dazed Ezra's bed. Recently he'd woken up, but was so disoriented it was hard to hold a conversation with him. However, Aria was content enough just sitting next to him as he slept off his near-death experience, her hand over his. Happily she told him that Wren had been caught and the whole A thing had unraveled at the seams; it was over. When she revealed that to him, a smile crossed his face because his wishes had come true: She was safe and he no longer had to use his creepy stalker moves to hunt down an attempted murderer.

Now Aria was struggling on what to say. The silence was heavy and awkward, and she really wished Ezra would speak up. But he didn't. He just laid in his bed and stared at her with these unreadable eyes, something she'd never seen before.

Clearing her throat, Aria broke the silence. "I have something." She reached into her bag and pulled out a hardcover book. On the cover was the title Winesburg, Ohio by Sherwood Anderson. She ran her finger along the dent that had appeared on the corner after she'd thrown it across her room in a rage. It was the first time in her life that Aria couldn't write down her feelings because they were so intense and so stinging from the lies and betrayal that her heart felt like it was going to break, rupture, or just stop. Then Spencer came, looking drawn-out and weak from the addiction she refused to admit was eating away at her, and told Aria a story.

"Once upon a time there was a horrible person named Spencer Hastings who accused her friend's long-term boyfriend of being a murderous stalker. But before that, she was a broken Jane Doe, searching for the same thing her best friend is looking for now: The hope at the end of the tunnel, a hope that would stop her heart from crumbling into a million pieces. It hurts, Aria." Spencer stopped and stared at her lap, her voice cracking. When her eyes started to water and her lips began to wobble, she looked back up at Aria and saw that her tears had been falling for a long time. "And I don't know what happened, but I'm so sorry." With that, Spencer pulled Aria into a squished hug, never wanting to let go in fear that Aria would just chip away and turn into dust in the wind just like Spencer had after the Toby incident.

Eventually able to pull away so she could speak, Aria laid her head on Spencer's shoulder and gasped from her sobs. "You were right about one thing, Spence," she cried. "He was hiding a secret. A huge one."

Spencer could feel the pain her friend was going through and knew that the best thing to do was not to ask. So she held Aria there and wondered just how badly she'd been shattered by the truth, something Rosewood residents just couldn't get right.

Now Aria opened the book and skimmed her index finger over the message. When you need to leave Rosewood… One corner of her mouth turned up in a crooked half-smile, reminiscing the beginning of their relationship while trying to block out the ache that still encased her heart.

Slowly Ezra lifted his hand weakly and scooted his finger across the page to meet hers. Aria stared at their touching fingers that reminded her of the couple of times they had shared a touch like that, something subtle and sweet. But then she remembered what he'd done and, though redeemable, was not ready to forgive him quite yet.

Clearing her throat, Aria moved her hand back to her lap and left Ezra's hand alone on the page. Awkwardly he picked it up and laid it back next to his bandaged side. "I thought you would like something to read," she said rapidly, flustered. Biting her bottom lip, she handed it to him, heart pounding in her throat.

At first Ezra gazed at her, and Aria tensed; she knew he had a way of reading her mind. Then he pushed the book away. "I'd rather listen to your voice read it."

With a long, drawn-out sigh Aria stared at the book cover and ran her finger along the words, a nervous habit. "Ezra, can I say something?" she asked and quickly added, "Without meaning to hurt your feelings."

Reluctantly Ezra nodded his head; every breath he took still hurt, and Aria understood how hard it was for him to speak. "I'm not here to make up with you," she said slowly, processing the words before they came out of her mouth. "I haven't forgiven you, and who knows if I might? But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you, and I don't want you to be bored so I brought you this book…" Pausing, Aria took a deep breath and metaphorically ripped the bandage off. "…to keep."

At those words, Ezra's hopeful face fell and was replaced by a frown. He winced as a sudden pain from the wound on his side reverberated across his body, mimicking exactly what his heart was feeling. Aria, licking her dry lips, placed the book on the side table. "I don't need it anymore."

"But it's a gift," Ezra spoke up, hoping he didn't come off too desperate.

"A gift that…doesn't seem so much as a gift anymore," Aria said as dispassionately as she could. "I'm sorry, Ezra. I am. But I can't accept it. It's just a reminder of…" She stopped herself, unable to continue without another tear fest.

"I know," Ezra whispered. Though he didn't want a repeat of Aria's panicked confrontation a week ago, he preferred a hysterical Aria over one who didn't show any emotion at all.

After staring at him for a few more seconds, an unreadable expression glinting in her eyes, Aria got up from the chair, said, "I'll be back in a few hours," and exited the room. Ezra watched her leave, barely able to believe that the past week had happened and wondered if he would wake up from a bad dream in the cabin, an unknowing Aria sleeping peacefully next to him.

Ezra glanced at the book on the table next to him. How he longed to relive that weekend in the woods one more time, to reenact the pillow fights, late movie nights, and to sleep in until noon. At least he knew that the Aria in that memory had been happy.

…

Later in her home, Aria was jotting down her streaming thoughts furiously in her overflowing journal. Her hand had started aching and cramping a few minutes ago, but it was like when she had that bad habit of snapping her wrist with an elastic when she got anxious: No matter how much it hurt, she just couldn't stop.

Her words stumbled, fell, and jumped over each other, almost like they were racing to keep up with her speedy pencil. There were an array of scratches, eraser marks, and smears from the perspiration on her palm dotting the pages. The pages she had written since Ezra's accident were an absolute mess.

Just then there came a knock at the door and Aria dropped the pencil as though the sound had caused a shockwave through her fingertips. Putting her overworked hand on her chest, she breathed heavily as she glanced over her freshly written words, steam practically rising from the pages she'd been writing so fast and nonsensically.

"Uh, come in," she croaked while shutting the journal closed and putting the pencil in the wooden cup she had painted with daisies and roses when she was in middle school.

When the door opened, it was, as always, Spencer. "Hey," she said, a bit more cheery than usual, probably because Ezra was healing and no one was planning another funeral. "How are you feeling?"

Aria had no idea where to start answering that question, and though she had just written so much in a matter of minutes she couldn't think of one word to say. "It's hard to say," she responded instead; at least it was the honest truth.

"Oh," Spencer replied, not really sure what to say either. Shuffling through her bag, she changed the topic by walking in and sitting on Aria's bed. "I can't stay long because Toby and I have a date, but there was something I've been meaning to give you."

"What is it?" Aria asked curiously. It was unlike Spencer to keep evidence to herself, always wanting a detective buddy whether it was Aria, Hanna, or Emily, though she had kept her suspicions about Ezra a secret for the greater good.

"Well…," Spencer hesitated. "I was going to give it to you a few weeks ago, but I was scared you were going to burn it."

"Spencer," Aria said warningly. Spencer was definitely covering it up.

Spencer jutted out her arm, an oddly familiar journal in her hand. "Here," she sputtered and stood up. "I stayed behind to collect some of Ezra's research, and I found this under a smashed picture of you two. I skimmed through it and…I think you should read it."

As though it was some rare artifact, Aria held the book gently in her hands, her eyes widening when she realized what it was. "This is Ezra's journal," she said aloud, and she flipped through it. "I would see him write in this whenever he thought I wasn't watching." When Aria looked up at Spencer, she was met by a confused face. "I mean, when I would sleep over, there were times when I would wake up and open my eyes and he would be sitting at his desk hunched over this thing." Vividly, Aria remembered the thoughtful, absorbed countenance Ezra had when he thought she was asleep, and she had always wondered what he was writing so attentively about. "He never let me read it."

Noticing that Aria was slipping into her own reverie, Spencer took that as a sign to get going. "Well, that's all then." She checked her watch. "Toby's picking me up in ten minutes, so…" She drifted off, waiting for something, anything.

Aria's eyes drifted across the leatherback book and her fingers traced the bumpy texture of the cover. Every kind of emotion she felt with him tingled against the tips of her fingers, the words just aching to be read and acknowledged; Ezra's writing was no longer his secret to keep, it seemed like. "Thank you, Spence," Aria said, truly honest. "I really mean it."

Spencer smiled softly and leaned down to give Aria a tight squeeze. "No problem," she sighed over her friend's shoulder. After pulling apart, she said, "I'll text you when I'm at the hospital later," and left. Aria watched her departing back, taking a sincere amount of time to think of how lucky she was to have Spencer as her friend, before turning back to Ezra's journal.

Preparing herself, Aria took a deep, drawn-out breath and plopped on her chair, the journal propped on her lap. After a short moral debate, Aria did what she'd been aching to do since the moment she'd first seen Ezra writing in this book: She opened it and began to read.

I saw in the news today that Alison had gone missing. Though we had only known each other for a short time, I never would have thought she'd wind up like this. The more I see the posters, the more her disappearance piques my interest. After all, she wasn't a stranger to me, though she may as well be; but I had still conversed with her about Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Faulkner, though now I know that that was all a lie. Yet every time I see those posters I wonder what had happened to her, if anyone would ever know…

A cold lump took ahold of Aria's stomach, knotting up her insides and making her cringe in disgust. She hated that Alison had manipulated Ezra just so she could, what, have some fling with a college guy? Flipping through the pages, a few sentences caught her eye.

She hates her laugh, or so she says.

This definitely didn't seem like it was about Alison.

I asked her why and she said it was because she had a bad habit of snorting. So I told her a story about Hardy that got her laughing so hard, she snorted as she had said. Covering her cute mouth with her hands, her eyes widened and she punched me in the shoulder, her face flushing red. I then asked her why she was so embarrassed and she said it was because she had just snorted rather loudly when she was laughing. I told her I didn't hear anything, and she gave me this skeptical look until it dawned on her that that was my charming way of saying I loved her laugh. And I've told her that multiple times since then, her laugh always following my compliment as though she was flattering me.

Oh my God, Aria thought. He was writing about her. And not just about her, but flowery, beautiful things a stranger would never say.

I never really thought about it before, but the day we met at that bar I believed it was supposed to be a one-time thing, even when she gave me her phone number. Maybe a part of me told me that wasn't true and she'd come back in my life somehow. Whatever I was thinking a year and a half ago, one thing was for sure: I didn't think I would fall in love with her. I love the pink streaks in her hair in her picture from Iceland, her bold clothing choices, the absurd ties she buys me no matter what the occasion, the look she gets on her face when she's reading, the way her lips move to the words she's writing down when she thinks I'm not looking.

When Aria reached up to touch her face, she noticed she was silently crying. She couldn't believe Ezra had written all of this about her.

One time I told her, "You whisper when you write." She just looked up at me with this flirtatious smile, closed her notebook, and fired back, "And you laugh when you sleep." She always knows how to render me speechless. Her wittiness is one of the many reasons I had fallen in love with her in the first place.

Suddenly, Aria found herself reading the entire journal from front to back. It was touching how much time he had spent recording little to milestone moments.

We tried making falafel today. It didn't work out, so we ended up carb-loading on whatever snacks were in my bare pantry. It was more brutal than we thought and we ended up complaining about our bloated stomachs all night. Another thank you to Spencer for being our alibi. Should I send her a part of my salary?

Leaving to New York wasn't my first choice, but it was my only choice at this point. What was there left keeping me anchored to Rosewood other than her? This time Aria didn't even ask for an alibi. She said she'd never given herself to any man before and she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else. Though it was a somber and tragic point in our relationship, we had transformed it into something special and sweet. We were up until the early morning, and we slept in past breakfast. When I told Aria her dad was going to be suspicious, she told me there was nothing left to be done anymore except to let the scattered pieces fall into place, then she curled up closer to me and said she wanted just another minute of undisturbed peace. I let her have all morning until early afternoon, and then I was up packing, both of us too aware that last night had passed a line we'd never dared pass before. During the moment I had thought it would be easier leaving with that memory of her in my mind, but I was proven wrong: It just made it harder to give her up.

Of course when I return to Rosewood after my job hunt in a nearby city Aria surprises me. Last time, it was me who had surprised her at her school dance, but this time it was her, and she had cut her hair. I was so used to it being long that when I would play with it, it would always fall off my fingers way too soon and I would complain about it. Then somehow things would get frisky—it must be something in the summer air—and I would forget all about my complaints.

The entries went on and on, and eventually Aria had to set it aside just to process it all. It was nearing the evening and she had promised Ezra she would return to the hospital, so unconsciously she got up and grabbed her bag. Without even realizing what she was doing she grabbed the journal off her desk, aware that the journal was not Ezra's. If he was so true about his feelings, then it was time Aria was, too.

…

When Aria barreled around the corner and into Ezra's hospital room, she tried to catch her breath as Ezra poked at the IV drip in his arm. His blue eyes widened when Aria came storming in and he stopped picking at the sticky tape. "Hey," he greeted her, obviously aware of the glazed look in Aria's eyes.

"I read your journal," Aria blurted out without really thinking. Shocked, Ezra shuffled awkwardly in his bed, painfully cognizant of what he had written in it. "And I had no idea that's what you were writing about so late into the night."

Sighing, Ezra sat up more comfortably. "Yeah, it just flowed onto the paper and…" He seemed embarrassed. "That's what came of it."

"Spencer gave it to me," Aria continued. "She found it and was smart in not giving it to me just yet. Otherwise I would have burned it and…" Aria stopped, the right words slowly progressing to her tongue. "And I wouldn't have realized that sometimes everything else trumps the bad. In this case, these beautiful words you wrote and what they mean… I'm still hurt, and confused, and angry, but this has made me realize that things can heal. We can heal."

Astounded, Ezra blinked at Aria. He was surprised Aria was throwing herself into this so soon again. Reaching out for her hand, he told her to calm down and that it was okay to take it slow and not jump into it just yet because this time he wanted to do it right. No more secrets, hiding up in isolated cabins, or family drama. He didn't know whether honesty would always be around or not, but at least now he knew better than to hide from what he didn't want to remember. He told her that the best place they could start for now was good friends.

The two kept chatting animatedly, and Aria handed him her own journal, saying he could read it as long as it wasn't in front of her. When Spencer showed up to visit, she debated whether to interrupt their attentive conversation or not. Smirking, she thought better and walked away, sending Aria a quick text saying she was still with Toby and wasn't going to make it. Unbeknownst to Spencer, Aria's phone laid, abandoned, on the table next to Ezra's bed. She was too absorbed in berating Ezra for writing some of these riskier stories of them to notice it had vibrated.

And it wasn't until eleven, when Aria was leaving the hospital after having poked fun at the hospital food they had had for dinner and watched I Love Lucy reruns on the small TV, that Aria finally saw it and texted back, Nothing interesting happened anyway. And though Spencer didn't believe her, she knew that it was better not to pry.

Some things were better off not knowing. And Aria just wanted to keep that memory of her and Ezra reconnecting in the hospital to herself.