The red dress looked good. Hanna twirled at her reflection in the mirror, watching the way the fabric hugged her skin without drawing attention to any one point. She loved it. And she loved the way it hadn't hurt her bank account. It was perfect for her dinner. She was so wrapped up in the feeling that the knock on the door didn't even register on her consciousness.

She pulled the dress over her head and hung it with the utmost care on her wardrobe door. Next of her agenda was a shower. Everything for tonight was going to be perfect.

In order to make the trip from her bedroom to the bathroom she pulled a boyfriend t-shirt on. She never made the distance.

Before she could place her hand on the door handle of the bathroom her mother called. It had been so long since she'd heard the worried tone of voice that demanded her immediate attention. From the top of the stairs she could see the flashing lights of a police car dancing along the wall. Had someone died? Was it Mona? A distant relative? Her father?

"Hanna, will you come here please."

Her legs felt like lead as she descended the stairs. At the door stood two men. An older gentleman, with salt and pepper hair and a stern, straight expression, and a younger, squarer looking man, whose steel grey eyes were fixed on her in such a way that she unconsciously tugged the hem of her shirt down to cover more of her legs. She wished she'd put underwear on.

"What's going on?"

"Hanna Merin?"

"Yeah?"

The young police man took a step into the house. Her mother stepped away without putting up a fight. The air he gave off demanded obedience.

"We received a call this afternoon from the Rosewood Mall," her fingers turned to ice. "We have reason to believe that several items were taken from a Boutique, during school hours, which makes you truant as well as a thief."

"What he means to say," the older man interrupts, with a scowl. "Is, we need you, and your mother, to accompany us to the station."

Hanna got dressed in silence, under the silent and judgemental glare of her mother. She hadn't said a word since the police officers had made their accusations. She reached for her phone only to find it swiftly swiped from her grasp.

"I need to text Sean…"

"It can wait."

And that was the end of that conversation.

The police station was ugly and claustrophobic. Hanna's mother had been in a room with the younger cop for almost forty minutes. Then she was called in, and her Mother left. Wasn't that, like, illegal? She was a minor after all. Shouldn't her mother be present? What did it even matter if she took a dress. It's not like she'd killed anyone. Besides, lots of people shoplifted. Its what teenagers do.

"Hanna."

"Officer."

He nodded and shuffled some papers on his desk. "Detective Darren Wilden. You can call me Detective Wilden."

Hanna took an immediate dislike to him. "Whatever."

"Let's get to the point. I told you Mom out there that I was going to use this time to scare you straight about shoplifting and being an all-round teenage dead-beat," he raised his hand before Hanna could retort. "But I'm not going to do that. I'm going to make you a deal."

"Look, I have no idea what you're talking about and even if I had taken anything, which I obviously didn't, just give me my slap on the wrist and let me go."

A smirk spread itself across the slimy features of the officer. "The security tag is still on your sunglasses. The sunglasses that look surprisingly familiar to those you put on in this CCTV tape I have in my drawer."

Hanna swallowed thickly but quickly regained her flippant composure. "You said something about a deal?"

"I did," if it was possible his smirk grew wider. "This," he slid a slip of paper across the table. "Is my address, and a time. You're, what, seventeen?"

"Sixteen," Hanna mumbled. Her heart was sinking into her stomach and a cold sweat had appeared on her forehead. The way he was looking at her was no longer stern, but predatory. His hand pushed the slip of paper closer to her, and she took it, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Don't tell Mommy, Hanna," he said, almost as an afterthought. "Wouldn't want to get her in trouble for bank fraud, or something."

A fire stirred in her belly. Now he was threatening her Mother? How could she have been so stupid, so naïve, so… how could she have done this? How did shoplifting lead to this situation here?

"My Mom has never done anything wrong in her life," she spat. Despite the angry scowl on her face her hands still shook. "Don't you dare."

"Are you sure Hanna? Are you really sure?"

She stood fast enough that her chair flew backwards onto the floor. Detective Wilden raised an eyebrow and matched her stance. He moved around his desk in a fluid way, almost like a slither. She shuddered as the images of snakes flooded her mind.

He pulled the chair back up and then placed a hand on the small of Hanna's back. She recoiled from his touch but he just moved with her, and directed her toward the door.

"I'll be waiting," he said, closing the door behind her.

Careful Han, prison clothes are so unflattering.

The car ride home was made in stony and cold silence. At no point did Ashley even look at their daughter until they made it to the front door. She placed her hand on the door knob and paused. Hanna sucked her lower lip into her mouth.

"I'm so disappointed in you Hanna," she said.

Hanna fixed her eyes on the floor and followed her mother inside. The slip of paper with Wilden's address on it was burning a hole in her pocket.

…

The daylight had vanished by the time Aria had returned home. Her thoughts were consumed with images of the man from the bar. Ezra. The feel of his skin on hers and the warmth he radiated. She closed her eyes and sighed, happy for the first time in a while.

That feeling quickly vanished when the door swung open to two very stern looking parents with their arms folded over their chests. Ella and Byron were fighting with the feelings of concern, anger and disappointment. Unsure which one to express to their daughter.

"Urm, hi guys."

"We got a call from your therapist this afternoon Aria," Ella said. "You didn't turn up to your appointment."

She closed the door behind her and leant against it. "About that…"

"Aria, part of the reason we were able to come home is because you promised to keep up with your appointments."

Suddenly she felt the twisting knot of frustration reappear in the pit of her stomach. How dare her father lecture her about responsibilities. She felt venom beginning to build on her tongue. "I'll just go tomorrow."

"That's not the point Aria."

"Whatever," she muttered. "I'll go tomorrow," she sighed. "I promise. It was just… really strange being back in Rosewood."

It seemed like those were the magic words. In synchronisation, her parent's shoulders relaxed and they dropped their arms. They exchanged a look between them and Ella stepped forward, pulling her daughter into a reluctant hug.

Aria stiffened in her mother's embrace. Ella didn't seem to notice. "I know it must be hard coming back here."

That's not the only hard thing around here.

If it was possible, Aria was sure the voice in her head was laughing.

She retreated to her bed room as soon as her mother released her and was disappearing up the stairs before her parents could say another word. She shut the door immediately and collapsed onto her bed. Maybe skipping her appointment had been a bad idea. Ezra had pushed the invasive thoughts away for a few hours, but now that she was alone it was all she could think about.

The world came crashing down around her. Every limb became heavy and restrictive. She curled up around herself, pulling her knees tight to her chest.

What's the matter Aria? You've just had a one afternoon stand with a stranger, you've got no friends, your dads a cheating asshole. What else could go wrong?

She shivered. Even after all this time Alison was still haunting her. But then, in the middle of her spiral her phone vibrated against her thigh.

Wanna come over? Like old times?

She didn't know it, but Spencer had just provided the perfect, momentary distraction.

Aria sat up slowly, the fog of her intrusive thoughts weighing heavy on her shoulders like a weight. She snuck down the stairs, careful to avoid every creak on the way down. Her parents were sat in the living room, completely oblivious to their daughter.

They were talking about her in hushed whispers. She made every attempt not to listen.

"I'm worried about her," Byron mumbled. "It's so unlike her to skip out like that."

"It must have been so hard for her to come back here, maybe we just need to give her some time."

"We gave her a whole year of time."

"She'll come around."

Aria swiped at her face, dashing away the threat of tears. She didn't mean to worry her parents. She just… it was just… it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The world was not going to wait for Aria Montgomery to get her shit together.

She slipped out of the backdoor and walked swiftly away from her house.