The barn had been so old school looking, not as creepy in the day.

Emily hadn't suspected a car to be parked and on, filling the barn and Emily's lungs with the poisonous fumes.

Her lungs burned.

A was trying to kill her.

First the stomach ulcer, now this.

A wasn't on any side but her own.

She set them up, like dolls in a dollhouse, and played with them whenever and however she wished.

A was sick.

Dr. Sullivan was by chance dead, because Emily and the others had pulled her into the dollhouse.

To die.

I do not own Pretty Little Liars.