PART TWO

Hanna knew Mona was arriving sometime soon, but she still hadn't told the girls. She was enjoying seeing them all together again too much, and she hadn't quite found the time to mention it. Now that Aria had returned from her honeymoon, Alison had all the girls get together to decide on dresses and the uber bachelorette party for two. They were eating brunch at The Grille, almost like they did when they were but teenagers.

Only, Hanna found that things were simply not the same as before. Spencer was constantly on her phone, checking emails and text messages for work, Aria was writing in some new journal she wanted to cart around everywhere with her (an Ezra writing tip, apparently), and Alison and Emily were literally sitting at the table talking about the twins' flower dresses for their wedding in a couple huddle. Hanna just ate her French fries in silence, watching her friends as their lives continued around her. Her fashion business was doing well, her relationship with Caleb was stable, and she was finally pregnant, but she couldn't help but feel like something was just… not right. Out of sync. Grunwald would tell her that her psyche was telling her something, but what?

"Do you think Lily and Grace would look better in green or yellow?" Ali abruptly asked the group, "Emily wants yellow, but I think green might be a good idea."

Spencer's eyes flitted up from her phone. She paused and suggested, "Neither. Blue. It will match their eyes."

Alison made a face, but then said, "No, you're right."

There was another pause. Aria stopped scribbling in her book. She was staring off into the crowd of people. Then, she said, a little hesitation and surprise in her voice, "Is that Mona?"

Hanna breathed in sharply. She was hoping that Mona would be arriving tomorrow or another day this week, but sure enough, Mona was walking into The Grille and the girls were gaping at her in surprise. She was dressed in some French designer clothing, and her face was straight and determined. Hanna glanced at the girls and threatened, "Guys, be nice."

Alison shrugged nonchalantly, "Why wouldn't we be nice? Mona was a life-saver when-" She broke off, and all of the girls looked at a mildly uncomfortable Spencer. No one verbally mentioned her twin sister or Mary Drake. Even Hanna didn't want to bluntly bring it up as she did other things.

"Just—you know what I mean," Hanna rolled her eyes, "Sometimes Mona is the mole and we are the bat, is all."

"Hammer, Han," Spencer corrected curtly, "You wack a mole with a hammer." Hanna didn't say anything. She was beyond used to Spencer's obsessive need to be completely correct and organized at all times. But even then, when Spencer didn't correct her, Aria wasn't far behind.

"Well, if it isn't the Scooby Doo gang." All of the girls whipped their heads towards Mona, who had finally arrived at their table. She didn't bother standing. She quickly grabbed a chair and pulled it up to their table as if the chair was always there for her. She then openly glared at each girl looking for someone to challenge her presence. Not a single one did. Satisfied, she smiled.

Spencer was the first one to break the silence, which wasn't at all shocking to Hanna. She had a knack for taking charge in uncomfortable altercations, like social cat fights or police investigations. Honestly, it was a relief sometimes. Spencer was just too damned witty when it came to tense moments, and she was smart enough to get the girls out of many dangerous situations. Hanna always thought it had something to do with being raised a Hastings.

"So, what brings you back to Rosewood, Mona?" Spencer asked, putting her cell phone down for the first time in the entire brunch. All of her attention was on Mona. Hanna forgot how intense Spencer could be.

Mona looked straight at Spencer with the same determined, steely look as when she entered The Grille. In all seriousness, she said, "Not now, Spence. Wait for it."

Spencer set her jaw and unset her jaw before responding, "I'm not exactly a patient person, Mona." Hanna frowned. Did she not just ask Spencer to be nice?

"Don't I know it," Mona rolled her eyes, "What are you going to do, drop me off another cliff? Trust me, love, I need to talk to you. I need to talk to all of you. Just not here."

There was a moment of silence. Spencer didn't skip a beat from the cliff comment (honestly, Hanna had completely forgotten all about that incident at Lookout Point), but she also didn't say anything. Mona smiled, breaking into her bubbly and passive-aggressive self, "Now, what are we wearing for this gal-on-gal wedding I've been hearing about? Gosh, don't you just love a good wedding!"

The girls didn't say anything. They all just stared at Mona in disbelief, but Hanna could see it in all of their eyes. They knew just like she did. This wasn't good. Whatever Mona needed to speak to them about was not good. As a matter of fact, it was never good when they were all in Rosewood, all at once.

Just why, why couldn't they all be in one place and happy all at the same time? Hanna really did jinx themselves before Aria left for her honeymoon.

God, I have such foot in mouth syndrome, Hanna thought.

Spencer was glad to leave a surprisingly emotionally charged brunch early. She had nearly forgotten that her mother asked her to pick up Melissa from the airport. And no one could really say what Melissa's temper would have done had Spencer actually forgotten to get her. Even getting along, Melissa was temperamental.

Spencer shook her head as she drove her car towards the Philly airport. She still couldn't shake the ominous feeling that vibrated throughout her entire body. The familiar flow of anxiety and tension burst through her veins as if they had been dammed indefinitely. She almost welcomed the uncomfortable feelings after all this time, but the dread was too much. Mona Vanderwaal and whatever bad news she was going to drop on them like a bombshell straight out of hell.

Spencer's brain was racing a mile a minute. Her thoughts jumped from one tangent to the other. Mary Drake—Alex—Mona—911—no follow-up—Mona's back—where are—? She nearly missed her exit to the airport thinking about Alex coming for her, coming to steal her life and make her go away forever. And Mary Drake wouldn't—or couldn't—stop her. Would she be ready? Would she be able to win this time?

Calm down, Spencer, she told herself. Get it together, girl.

After several deep breaths and a series of panicked thoughts, Spencer found herself in the busy airport parking lot. She shook herself out of her reverie and jumped into the bustling crowd to find Melissa—only to learn that Melissa's flight wasn't going to arrive for another half hour because of delays. And where does Spencer go when she has idle time and a permanent state of anxiety? She sat at one of the fancier airport bars.

"What can I get for you, ma'am?" The bartender asked.

"A vodka soda—." A pang of hurt hit Spencer in the chest as she envisioned Wren. "Actually, no. Make that a martini with extra olives, please," she amended.

"On me," spoke a voice from right behind her. Spencer glanced up to see a tall and muscular figure. His hair was scuffled and he was wearing a flannel shirt. Pretty eyes.

Spencer leaped out of her chair and threw her arms around none other than Toby Cavanaugh. He welcomed her hug with one of his own. A small, hesitant laugh fell out of his mouth as he expressed his happiness to see Spencer. It had been a couple weeks since they went out for drinks when Spencer and he finally had a night off together.

Spencer broke off the hug and smiled at Toby. She sat down and gestured for him to sit with her. He sat down loosely, smiling back at her. Just as the last few times she had seen him, it felt both natural and awkward to be with Toby. They were rekindling some old sparks after all that time, but it still didn't erase their past. The lingering tension was filled with old arguments and habits, Yvonne, and Alex Drake.

"What are you doing here, Spence? Going abroad again?" He asked.

Spencer laughed, sipping the martini the bartender handed her, "Oh, no. I don't have time to travel right now."

"Ces't dommage," Toby sighed, saying it's a pity in French, "I'm starting to find that I rather enjoy travel now that I've left the Rosewood P.D."

Spencer smiled, remembering the moment Toby was referencing with the French phrase—the moment they sat on his porch step talking the romance language and murder investigations. Though, she never smiled more than when she was with the good old carpenter.

"And what about you?" She bit her lip, "Going to go build more houses in Africa?"

"Ah, sadly no. As much fun as it was to help others," Toby picked up her drink and took a sip, wincing a little at the taste, "Think I'll stick to beer… No, but I just got in from a quick trip in the slums of Mexico. I spent a week helping some of the poorer citizens without jobs. Jason needs me to help out of the nonprofit here in Philly again, though. Besides, I'll get to see you even more often than before." He put his hand on hers, pulling her long fingers out and folding them over in his palm.

Spencer bit her lip, watching as his hand moved over her closed fingers and wrapped around her wrist. She felt that familiar feeling build up inside—today was all about familiar feelings—and she thought, I still have time before Melissa arrives… Maybe we could go to a bathroom or a closet. It's not like Aria hasn't done the same with Ezra before, right?

Toby moved his hand down to her knee before abruptly retracting it. Spencer was confused, but then she heard a certain tapping noise that irritated her to no end. And sure enough, Spencer turned to leer towards the eerie blind girl creeping her way over to the bar.

"You have got to be kidding me," Spencer breathed, her voice low enough that Toby couldn't hear. Louder, she turned to Toby, "What is she doing here? Doesn't she teach at Rosewood High as a life skills coach?"

Toby eyed his step-sister with suspicion, nodding his head slowly. Jenna Marshall halted at the bar, a few feet from Toby and Spencer. She tilted her head to the side before smiling in the creepy way that she always did when she identified her surroundings.

"Fancy seeing you both here," Jenna remarked, "Spencer. Toby."

"Going on vacation?" Spencer snickered, "I didn't think you were one to go sightseeing."

Jenna frowned, but she didn't seem offended by the comment. Toby looked a little disappointed, but Spencer ignored him. She always had a strong disliking for Jenna. She used to feel bad for what she and her friends did, but after learning and watching the videos of what Jenna did to Toby, Spencer could never feel guilty again. Bitch got what she deserved.

Sighing, Jenna explained, "I have a doctor's appointment out of town to see another surgeon. I'm sure you know by now that my second surgery failed."

Toby spoke briskly, "My father told me."

"And you didn't call," Jenna whined, "How sad."

Spencer snorted in disbelief. Jenna sure was consistent.

"Is there a problem, Spencer?" The blind girl snapped her attention to Spencer, enunciating her name, "Are you having trouble using your voice?"

Spencer smirked, "Oh, no. My voice is fine, just like my other senses." Toby's eyes widened at Spencer's bold comments—he hadn't seen her talk that way since they were in high school. Even Spencer was a little surprised by her upfront insults, but she chalked it up to her usual impulsiveness and the raging nostalgia that was waving over her.

Jenna just shook her head, almost smiling. She stepped closer to Spencer, almost in her face with her stick, and said in a low tone, "Do you know how I knew it wasn't you when that bitch took over your life? It wasn't just her perfume. She was too nice. But you… Well, Alison might have gotten good at pretending to be nice, but you haven't changed a bit, have you? You can take the mean girl out of high school, but you can't take the mean out of the girl."

Before Spencer could respond, Jenna pushed her stick out and tapped her way into a different airport bar. Spencer didn't even bother looking at Toby. She felt ashamed, but not because of her actions. She felt ashamed because she lost. She was a Hastings, that was for sure.

Alex was tired of sitting restlessly and staring at blank, dimly lit walls. Her mum might have been satisfied doing just that, but she wasn't. She bounced off of her bed and sat on the floor, pulling the cheap metal frame towards her. She had always had a hard time sitting still.

"What are you doing?" Mary Drake's head spun towards Alex from the loud scraping noise of the bed.

Alex rolled her eyes. She remarked, her accent almost enhancing her sarcasm "Oh, now you want to talk? Right when I start to do somethin'".

Her mum didn't say anything. Alex jerked her attention back to the frame. Earlier, when she was bored, she noticed that the frames were cheaply built and poorly welded. She could easily bend most of the metal with her bare hands. And that is exactly what she did.

Alex pulled one of the legs of the bed off, bending the welded part back and forth until it released its hold. She started to work her hands to shape the cheap metal into something sharp, almost like a shank.

Her mum moved closer to her, observing her work. "What are you doing?" She asked again.

Alex glanced at her, but her focus was on the metal in her hands. She answered briskly, "Makin' a weapon. Food comes at the same time each day. Next time, I'll be ready."

Her mum didn't say anything. She didn't protest nor did she help. Alex questioned whether or not she had given up. Had her mum finally resigned to the fact that she was never going to be free, ever? Her twin sister had put her in a straight-jacket, her own actions had isolated her away from her family, and one of her daughters had caused her to confess to murder and imprison herself. Alex wouldn't be surprised if her mum really was just done trying. She would be, too, after all of that.

Except Alex wasn't tired. She was motivated. Her story had only just begun, and she wasn't going to let it end with someone else writing the conclusion. So she worked the metal piece with her hands.

Aria's head was still reeling from brunch. Spencer had skipped out early, but she had to endure Mona and Hanna discussing the differences between French croissants and American croissants all while contemplating what Mona could possibly want to talk to them about—and why she couldn't talk in The Grille. Aria was still distracted even when she got home, dropping her keys on the floor instead of the counter. She picked them up slowly, her eyes turning to the burn mark in the floor.

Still can't believe I left a burning phone on the apartment floor, she mused. Life sure was crazy then.

"And it might just get crazier yet," she said aloud to only herself. A dark cloud loomed over her. She didn't want to be afraid anymore. She was tired of being afraid. She thought it was over, finally over. But even so, old habits die hard.

So when her phone buzzed, she nearly jumped a foot. Glancing down, she read a group text from Mona that was addressed to all the girls:

The Lost Woods. Tonight. 8 pm. –Mona

Aria glanced at the time. She had almost 8 hours of anxiety to live through, and Ezra was at a press meeting with their boss Julian for another hour. Taking a deep breath, her pulled out her laptop. Maybe writing would put her jitters at ease.

Emily read Mona's text aloud to Alison, but she didn't like the look that Alison gave her in response. Ali didn't say anything, but Emily knew that she was not happy. Mona meant trouble. Her presence in Rosewood was trouble, and Emily knew that Ali was watching her back because of the Addison Derringer disappearance.

She didn't say anything, either. She didn't know what to say this time. How many times could she tell Alison that everything was going to be okay? How many times could she tell Alison that she would protect her no matter what? But even Emily knew that she couldn't protect Alison from Alison herself. And even she knew that she went to bed each night occasionally wondering if Alison really did have anything to do with Addison's disappearance, especially after Alison had mentioned the idea of knowing someone to get rid of the terrible teenager.

But Emily tried to look beyond that. She and Alison were going to get married, and they had two beautiful twin daughters that they promised they would raise right (that was a conversation that occurred after the Spencer and Alex fight—twins in the Dilaurentis family didn't have the best track record). And Alison was different now.

There's nothing to worry about, Emily told herself, It's just Mona. Nothing is going to happen to Alison.

She wouldn't let anything happen to her. She'd kill Mona before she would let anything happen to Alison.