All right guys, insertnameherex is -A, story's over now. :p But seriously, thank you for your review. I try not to start posting stories until I've finished writing them; that way I can update regularly. Glad it's appreciated. :)

ihavealifeiswear - thank you! I had way too much fun writing the '-A' parts, to be honest. One day I'd like to write an entire story from -A's perspective; that's actually what I'd intended to do with this one until I merged it with a couple of other ideas. So maybe I will write an anonymous -A story when I have time.

Forever Courage - Emily's definitely onto something, and this chapter will explain a bit more about the 'Arlene' thing. Be sure to let me know what you think.

Sgdp1261 - there's a lot going on in this chapter too. The show moves pretty quickly and packs a lot into a small amount of time, so I thought I'd try to stay true to that and add plenty of drama and suspense. I'm glad you're liking it, and thank you for being one of the nicest and most consistent reviewers I've ever come across.

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The girls were sitting in Ali's backyard, enjoying the last shreds of summer. Aria lay back in the deckchair, sipping her lemonade and listening to Emily and Hanna debate over whether they should go out for ice cream or froyo after this. She smiled to herself; she was sure the coming year would have plenty of moments like this. It was, as Ali kept excitedly exclaiming, going to be 'the year of Us'.

"Fine," Emily said at last, too blissfully tired from the sunshine to argue further, "we'll go get froyo."

Hanna grinned, enjoying her victory.

"Are you sure you need froyo, Hanna?" Ali said sweetly. "I hear it's pretty big on the calories."

Aria tried not to notice as Hanna's face fell.

"Ali -" Spencer said, jumping as always to Hanna's defence. She was the only one who was daring enough to stand up to Ali, and she always did her best to defend them against Ali's attacks. She was rarely successful.

"Do you have something to say, Spencer?" Ali asked pointedly.

Although Aria wasn't sure what was going on between them, it made her feel anxious. There had been a lot of tension between Ali and each of the girls lately; she knew that hers stemmed from the fact that she and Ali were the only ones who knew about Mr Montgomery's affair, but she couldn't figure out what secrets Ali had with the other girls. And part of her wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Spencer seemed to think about fighting back, but something stopped her. "No," she said through gritted teeth. "I don't have anything to say."

An uneasy peace settled over them, but Aria knew it wouldn't be long until another fight would break out. She just didn't know who it would be between.

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"So maybe that was her name?" Aria suggested, swallowing hard. She kept flip-flopping between wanting to tell her friends about her secret identity and wanting to keep it, well, secret. And right now she was so distracted by this other girl that she didn't feel like getting into it with Emily.

"Aria, I'm almost certain it was you," Emily said. "And at first I thought maybe someone had just got your name wrong, or you'd given someone a fake name or something… but the way you're acting now makes me wonder if there was another reason. You're kind of being all twitchy."

"I'm not being twitchy," she said, although she was. "And I swear I'm not just trying to change the subject, but – see that girl over there? By the jukebox? Do you think that's -?"

"Spencer?" Emily finished. "Yeah, I think it is."

"Should we go over and say hi?" Aria asked.

Emily looked like she was about to argue, to insist that they finish this conversation, but then she shrugged and stood up. "Sure."

Aria finished off the last couple of fries, and then they headed over to the girl. She looked up, startled, when they reached her table.

"H-hi," Spencer said, brushing some hair out of her eyes. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Just talking," Aria replied guardedly. It wasn't that she didn't trust Spencer – she did, with her life – but she was still reluctant to open up about Arlene, something she'd been hiding for years. She wasn't sure how Ali setting her up with this fake identity made sense in the bigger scheme of things, and until she was she knew what it meant, she wouldn't be ready to have a secret identity coming out party. "What about you?"

"I, um." Spencer blinked, seeming frazzled. "I'm here with Toby, actually. He just went to the bathroom. He'll be back in a minute."

"Oh." Aria looked at the single empty plate and the one half-finished drink and frowned.

"Well, I guess we should leave you to it," Emily said, although she too seemed a little uncertain. "Tell Toby I say hi."

Spencer nodded, and Aria and Emily left.

"Did she seem a little strange to you?" Emily asked as they climbed into the car.

Aria shrugged. "I guess?"

Neither of them knew what to say next, so they drifted into silence until they hit the main road. Then Emily brought them back to the conversation they'd been having in the diner.

"It was you, wasn't it? That night in the club?"

Aria didn't answer right away. She steered gently into the next lane, her eyes flicking between the rear-view mirror and the road in front of her. Then she looked at her hair in the mirror, tucking a few strands back into place, and applied another coat of lip gloss. Finally she turned to Emily. "Yeah," she admitted. "It was me."

"Why did that guy call you Arlene?"

"You know how it is," Aria said. "You meet a guy in a club, you tell him a fake name. I wasn't looking for anything more than that night."

For a second Emily looked like she was buying it, and then she shook her head as if to dislodge the idea. "Wait. You were there to hook up with random guys?"

"Uh, yeah." Aria knew it wasn't exactly a good defense, but it was probably safer than telling the truth – as long as Emily bought it.

"But what about Ezra? You were still with him, right?"

She really hadn't thought this plan through. Yes, she and Ezra had been together then. She would never have cheated on him. Her friends all knew she was madly in love with him. And that all made for one very unbelievable alibi.

"Fine." She pulled into the main street, searching for a place to park. She found one outside a little bookshop she sometimes went to so she could meet Ezra. A little boy walked past, holding into his mother with one hand and a balloon in the other. And on the other side of the street a woman jumped up from her table outside a café, threw a shredded flower onto the table, and stormed off from a very confused looking man. Aria sighed. "The truth is, I've been… investigating Ali's death."

Emily quirked her eyebrow up, confused. "Well, yeah. Haven't we all?"

"No – I mean yeah, but -" She took a moment to clasp her hands and try to stop them from shaking. She'd held onto this secret for so long that she didn't feel right sharing it, even with one of her closest friends. "I've been doing it by myself. Like, I met this guy the other day. Matt. He was a friend of Vivian's. And that night in the club, that was to meet someone Alison had mentioned once, this guy she'd had a brief thing for. I was hoping that I could talk to him about what had happened, maybe find out if he knew who killed her."

"And the fake name?"

"I don't know." Okay, so maybe she wasn't quite ready to tell the whole truth yet. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I was kind of going undercover, you know? I thought I should have a fake name."

Emily leaned back in her chair, watching the boy's balloon fluttering in the breeze. Her expression was unreadable.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she asked after a while, still watching the balloon.

"I – I'm sorry." Apologies seemed easier than explanations. "Most of what I came up with were dead ends. I didn't want to get you guys involved if it wasn't going to get us anywhere, you know? But now that you know, I guess I don't really have to hide it."

"Who were you talking to when I got in the car earlier?"

Aria fiddled with the car keys, pressing them into her palm and watching as her skin went from white back to pink. "Matt. Vivian's friend."

"And you're meeting him?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

"You're not going alone."

"Em -" she said beseechingly.

"No. No arguing. You're not going alone. Okay?"

"Em." Aria sat up straighter, her attention caught by a figure across the road. "Look."

The figure was walking out of an antique store, glancing down the street as if worried about being caught. In his arms was a small box wrapped in brown packaging, and he carried it like the contents were either fragile or valuable.

"Wait, that's -" Emily began.

"Toby," Aria confirmed. "But what's he doing here?"

Emily looked at her watch. "If he's just coming out of that store now, there's no way he could have been at the diner."

They both sat very still and quiet as the implications of this hit them like a sledgehammer. Spencer had lied to them. She had looked them in the eyes and told them she was with Toby, and here they had proof that she wasn't. What could she be hiding?

"We should talk to her," Emily suggested when the silence had dragged on for an unbearable amount of time.

"Yeah." Aria pulled out her phone and dialled the number with shaking fingers. She'd been half-expecting Spencer to decline the call, so when her friend answered on the second ring she was a little surprised. "Oh! Hey Spence."

"Aria," Spencer greeted her. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Aria put the phone on speaker so Emily could hear. "Em and I were just going to go over to my place and watch a movie. Do you want to come?"

"I would, but I'm still out," Spencer replied without missing a beat.

"Oh." Aria paused. "Are you still with Toby?"

This time Spencer did hesitate, but only for a second. "Yeah. I'm with Toby."

"Okay," Aria said, trying not to jump to any conclusions. "Well, maybe some other time then?"

"Sure thing."

Aria and Emily stared at each other, not sure what to make of what had just happened.

"She lied to us," Emily said.

"Twice," Aria added. "Why would she do that?"

Emily shook her head, as clueless as Aria. Spencer had lied to them, making them think she was with Toby. What kind of a cover was that? And what could she possibly be covering for? And, more importantly, why was she keeping it from them?

The sound of Emily's phone jerked them out of their thoughts. Emily snatched it up, eager for any distraction. "Hey Hanna!" she said brightly. Then the brightness vanished and her eyes went dark. "Wait, say that again? What's going on?"

She listened intently for a minute, and Aria dug her nails into the steering wheel to deal with the urge to shout What the hell is going on around here? She used to think her life was boring, but she'd trade that all for this mess in a heartbeat. There was only so much drama one high school girl could take.

"Where are you?" Emily asked. She listened, then nodded. "We'll be there in a second. Just wait, okay? Don't move."

She hung up quickly, shot a look at Aria, and dove out of the car. Startled, Aria shoved her keys in her pocket and jumped out after her. Emily was already halfway down the street, and Aria had to jog to catch up to her.

When she caught her, she asked breathlessly, "What's going on?"

Emily looked sideways at her but didn't slow down. She kept checking the names of the stores that flashed by her, evidently looking for something. "Hanna's in trouble," she said bluntly. "Or at least, she might be. She was at this interview for some fashion job, only the interviewer never showed up. But she thinks there's someone else in the place with her. She's hiding out in the supply closet."

Any other time Aria might have found the thought of Hanna hiding out in a supply closet amusing. But now things were too serious. If there was someone in there, someone who shouldn't be there… her money was on it being –A.

"Here!" Emily suddenly ducked into a shop to her left.

Aria glanced at the big banner – Lisa's Style Studio – before she snuck in after Emily. The front door was closed, but the lock looked like it had been broken. Aria gulped. –A it was.

Inside the studio it was dark and eerily quiet. There were racks of designer clothes spread around the room randomly, but there were mannequins in short dresses and flashy skirts at even intervals on the perimeter of the room. An open door towards the back of the room gave them their next clue about where to go. They hurried through, making sure to leave the doors open behind them – they did not want to get trapped.

The next room was large and empty aside from a large desk along one side. And standing at that desk was a black-hooded figure, who spun around when they heard the girls enter. Aria blinked, her thoughts as slow as if they were moving through quicksand.

"Oh, crap," Mona muttered.

Her gaze flickered between the two of them, and then she looked back at the desk, which had open drawers she'd apparently been searching through. She slammed one of the drawers closed, hesitated, and then shot across the room. Aria felt rooted to the spot, but Emily was quick enough on the uptake that she made a grab for Mona, who dodged at the last minute and dashed through the door. It flew closed behind her and they heard the sounds of her pushing something up against it – probably a rack of clothes, which weren't that heavy but would make following her difficult anyway.

The girls stood in the empty room, staring at the closed door, mouths slightly open as their brains tried desperately to process what had just transpired. They were only compelled to move when they heard the sounds of someone moving around in the supply closet, and remembered why they'd come here to begin with.

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I sit at my desk, filing my nails with a rainbow-patterned file my mother had given me for my thirteenth birthday. Today had not gone well. My plan had been simple enough, well laid out, and it would have worked… if I hadn't been interrupted. I hadn't realized how close Aria was; why is she always turning up exactly where I am? I'm going to have a to keep a closer eye on her from now on.

I reach across the desk for my glass, only to find it depressingly empty. I stand up, rolling my neck to get rid of the cricks. I've been working so hard on this that sometimes I lose track of time, and only the aching of my joints reminds me how long I've been sitting in the same position.

There are several bottles on the shelf, and I run my finger along them, pondering. Eventually I settle on the one with the most left in it – it's going to be a long night, after all. And I'm going to have to come up with some kind of excuse about where I've been. My absence tonight will not go unnoticed; I've been sneaking out a lot lately, and eventually somebody's going to catch on.

But for now I just pour myself a drink, and, after a pause, pour another, take them back to my desk, and sit down again. Today may have been a near-miss, but tomorrow is going to be my day.

Those bitches won't know what hit them.

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So that was pretty intense, right? Any thoughts/theories?