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.
