Unexpected

by SweetJane21

After being put through many trials of loss, separation, and temptation, forbidden lovers Spencer Hastings and Toby Cavanaugh have proven their love is eternal. But when the ambitious and intelligent beauty learns she is pregnant with Toby's child, Spencer is forced to make a difficult decision that could change everything.

10. Chapter 10

10. Discovered

Spencer

I walked down one of the hallways of an abandoned building, confusion clouding my mind of where I was. My head felt thick and fuzzy, like someone had stuffed a bunch of cottonballs inside. Glistening shadows from the endless hole of darkness swallowed me as I took a few steps around the corner. The hall was dark and cold, cobbled with red brick and faded grey cement molding. It had the feel of an alleyway or a dungeon. There were cobwebs everywhere, and it was too dark to see the exit.

As I continued down the dark path, it suddenly widened. It clearly wasn't meant for people like me to wander around endlessly. Somewhere close by, I heard water dripping from the leaky pipes that were built into the walls, twisting and turning at every corner, and something that sounded like birds flapping their wings. A loud creaking noise echoing throughout the building chilled my bones. I walked slowly down the hallway, scanning through the darkness for the source of the sound. But all I could see were the cement floors and draining pipes.

A loud pounding reverberated in the halls. Frightened, I spun around and my head snapped back. Melting out of the shadows was a young girl who looked to be about eleven or twelve, wearing a long white gown, and had long, dark wild hair. A sense of familiarity prickled my skin, and I was struck with the oddest feeling that I'd seen her somewhere before.

The girl stepped forward and fell to her knees at the end of the hall. My heart jumped in my throat, seizing me in place.

"Hello?" I said in a small voice.

Slowly, she stood up, but she didn't answer. Above her, I could see a bright light coming in through the blackness from a big hole in the wall. It looked like a tunnel.

"Hello?" I repeated, hating how scared I felt.

Finally, she looked up at me from a sideways angle, looking more feral than anything. I couldn't breathe.

A squeaking sound pierced my ears as the girl slowly turned her head to stare at me. Her ghostly-pale skin illuminated against the faint glow of the light, and her plump pink lips were gaped open. I noticed the color of her eyes for the first time–a golden brown amidst a shade of leafy green, like hazel. And she had dark, brownish, bruise-like shadows under those eyes, as if she was suffering from lack of sleep. Then suddenly, the girl hurtled herself down the hallway in a long, quick spurt. I didn't hesitate to chase after her, my feet slapping against the cement floor beneath me.

"Wait, wait!" I called out desperately. "Who are you?"

I came to an opened door at the end of the hall and stopped. There was a small window in the thick, steel door to secure the room from unwanted visitors. It opened up into a cold and dark room, a gloomy, large space big enough for a sanitarium bathroom that was both disturbing and creepy, which it probably was. A sense of déjà vu came over me, but something in my brain was blocking me from the memory of this place.

The walls were tiled a teal green, and there were a couple of drains on the ghoulish stone floor. Sunlight poured faintly in through the small, rectangular windows onto the stone floor below. Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, but the bulbs were burned out. The only furniture in the room were several broken, rusted clawfoot bathtubs that were covered with white dusty sheets, and iron-thick drain pipes winded along the walls and pillars of the room.

But I wasn't alone.

On the far side of the room, the girl in the white gown was running in between two of the bathtubs a few feet away from me, seemingly unaware of my presence. She stopped abruptly when she saw me and jerked her body forward, whipping her head back like she was being possessed. She bent apart her knees and dropped to the ground in a dance-like movement. I watched in bewilderment as the young girl placed both her hands against another one of the tubs to raise her leg straight up in the air in a cartwheel. She was so frail and thin, I could see the contours of her spine.

The girl placed her foot back onto the ground and spun around, pressing her back flat against the bath tub. She sat on the edge and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, groaning violently as if she was going to throw up. In one fluid motion, she rose up and arched her neck far back. Then, the girl bounded for the two tubs, sliding in between them on her feet with easy grace. Her hands clung to the sides of the two tubs as she threw her body upwards from her tippy toes, her face raised to the ceiling.

She flung her arm over in that same moment to crawl slowly onto the covered bath tub. The girl twisted her leg towards her torso at an awkward angle, looking up at me blankly. In that instant, she raised her arms up behind her like a bat. As I watched, another memory ripped through my mind, sucking me in.

It was of me in the Dollhouse–my hands were curled as I lay passed out on the carpet, covered in thick, red blood. Another image quickly flooded my head, my hands desperately yanking my shirt up to see where the blood was coming from. A cold realization seeped into my bones as I realized I'd been here before, when A had trapped me inside the Dollhouse.

I started breathing faster. I didn't want to be here.

I blinked, and I was standing inside the sanitarium bathroom again. I saw the girl on the other side of the bath tub, peering up at me through her dark, tangled hair. The sight sent chills down my spine. Before I could react, she twirled in big circles around the two tubs and lifted herself up from the ridges again, kicking her legs high up over her head.

When she was finished, the girl pushed herself forward onto the floor on all fours like an animal. She crawled swiftly to the far side of the wall, and I heard a loud rumbling fill the room. The girl was pounding her fists against the wall.

I stepped backwards, hit with several emotions all at once. More images of the Dollhouse flickered through my mind like snapshots, fast and uncontrollable. I dragged myself across the floor, following the thick trail of blood leading me there. Then my hands flew against the door. Even as I banged against the hard wood, I could feel the strength slowly slipping away from my limbs.

I shuddered at the memory and the sick dread I still felt whenever I thought of about how close I came to losing Toby. My stomach churned as the girl stared at me now. It seemed like she was trying to help me remember something.

She pressed the side of her face against the wall now. Her leg jerked straight out and then flattened her back against the wall, spreading her legs far apart. The girl stared up at the ceiling and clamped a hand to her mouth, using her other hand to slowly drag it over her forehead, her fingers spread out across her face like claws.

Then she lurched forward, spinning around to the corner of the room. She grabbed onto a thick pipe from the wall and slid across the floor. Finally, the girl lifted her leg high in the air in a ballerina's stance.

My stomach flipped. It felt like the room was closing in around me, making it difficult to breathe. Blood pulsed in my ears, deafening any other sounds. The memory I'd been trying to suppress blurred back into focus. I crawled blindly across the floor to see where the trail of blood led to and stopped. My heart sunk to my feet as I realized the blood had seeped far beyond the door. Was someone hurt?

A minute later, the girl was peering at me from behind one of the pillars, features contorted beatifically on her face. I looked to where she was holding herself upright and noticed her hand resting on the tube pipe that was built into the grey column. A second later, she melted out of her tense position and twirled away from the column in her quick, graceful dancer's step.

She glided towards me, faster than I could keep up with. My hand flew to my pregnant stomach and I gasped, jumping away from her. Abruptly, the girl ran backwards and jumped onto the ridge of the bath tub covered with the cloth blanket. Slowly, she raised her arms and glanced back at me, her eyes wide and feral. To my horror, she placed one foot in front of her, preparing to walk across.

No!

I covered my hands over my mouth in alarm and gasped. But instead of falling over into the tub, the girl walked gracefully across the sheet in an effortless lope that belonged on a theatre stage rather than inside a sanitarium. I watched, amazed at her flawless balance.

As soon as her back hit the sheet, she started to mimic wild gestures of possession. The room soon filled with her loud and violent screams. Her body writhed and shook convulsively, flinching from some hideous, deep-filled dark force brewing inside her. The girl threw her abdomen up towards the ceiling, curving her back demonically as both her feet and hands moved onto all fours. She rolled over onto her stomach fluidly and touched her feet to the ground, her eyes dark and evil.

I stood rooted the floor with a mixture of confusion and terror, frozen in place. I couldn't move. Part of me longed to help her, but I didn't know how.

The girl moved to sit down on a wooden chair in the west corner of the room and quickly pulled her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth. I swallowed deeply. When I looked at her again, her eyes that were once filled with a malevolent triumph changed to a fearful helplessness. My heart went out to her, pitying the poor girl. Then, just like a ghost, she disappeared before my eyes.

I stared at the empty chair in confusion. Where did she go? And what was she trying to tell me?

I scanned the room, bewildered, when something caught my eye. Sitting on the floor below a bathroom cabinet was a pair of faded yellow shower slippers. I paused. I was positive those hadn't been there before.

I kneeled down to pick up one of the slippers and turned it over to examine it. There was purple ink smudged on the side of the slipper, but I could still make out the words C. DiLaurentis.

A feeling of dread washed over me, icing my whole body. Suddenly, the sound of a man's footsteps echoed down the hall from behind me. I whipped my head around and saw a big, dark shadow looming in the doorway. Even with his face shrouded in darkness, there was something about him I recognized, like I'd seen him somewhere before.

"Charles?" I whispered.

The man behind the black hoodie grinned, cackling joyously. I wanted to scream, but it was frozen in my throat, as if something was sucking all the air from my lungs. Suddenly, the shadow grew bigger, looming over me, and he reached for me…

I woke up shaking on the floor of my bedroom with no idea how I'd fallen off, blinking against the bright light floating into the room. The dream had felt so real, almost like I'd been there before. For a minute, I didn't recognize the room. All of the bookshelves were devoid of any books or photo frames, my desk bare and empty, and my bedside tables were swiped clean. The only clothes in my closet were a few shirts and jeans that draped over the shelves. It looked like no one was living here. Toby and I had been so busy moving my things out of my room and into his apartment above The Brew that I hadn't realized how empty it looked now. The last of my boxes of stuff was at Toby's, waiting to be unpacked. And tonight I would be moving into the loft.

I sighed blissfully. My weekend with Toby at the cabin had been the best three days of my life. It was so beautiful and loving and amazing, and Toby was a huge part of that. He'd made sure everything was perfect for me and that all of my needs were satisfied. I never wanted to leave. But when we finally did, a big lump formed in my throat. If I had it my way, I would've stayed with Toby at the cabin forever, enjoying him all to myself.

My eyes darted to Toby's spot on the bed, panicking when no one was there. It was cold, vacant of a human being. The only thing I had on was one of Toby's T-shirts and a black, lacy see-through thong.

I lifted myself up from the floor. "Toby?"

I looked around the room, trying to breathe. Something happened to me in that Dollhouse, something terrible. I didn't have all the details, but I recognized the shadow.

It was Charles.

I didn't know who I had hurt or what happened, but Charles did. He made me do something horrible. Could I have killed someone? Sure, I could lose my temper, and yes, I could be pushed to the limit, but it was still hard for me to believe that I had it in me to kill.

But then why was I covered in blood when I woke up in the Dollhouse? I barely remembered anything the night before. A knew so many of my secrets and my friends', it wouldn't be necessary for him to lie; the evidence was right there in front of me. I had done it. Perhaps Charles knew who I had killed and was waiting for the perfect moment to use it against me. And who was that little girl in that creepy room? She'd looked familiar and foreign all at once, but I couldn't shake this strange feeling that something was wrong, like a missing piece to the mystery.

Toby stepped out of the bathroom then, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped dangerously low around his naked waist, which was threatening to fall off his hips. It showed so much of him that I could see his torso. His body was dripping wet from his shower, water bulging in all the right places, over his chest and beautiful abs. I was so turned on that my mouth began to salivate. He was just so wet and sexy.

I stared lustfully as a couple droplets slid down his abs. My pelvis throbbed for him, and I was suddenly filled with the animalistic urge to rip off his towel.

Toby's expression was alarmed. "Spencer? Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?"

I bit my lower lip and smiled. Rather than answering him, I moved closer to him, my heart pounding.

Seeming to intuit my mood, Toby tugged at the fabric of my shirt, pulling me towards him. "That's my shirt."

"And you're never getting it back." I put my hands on his waist, lingering near the towel.

"I don't want it back," he whispered. Then he bent his head down to mine and his lips were on mine.

Toby cupped the back of my head as he gently slipped his tongue slowly and deeply into my mouth, and the universe glowed in vivid color again. Nothing else existed but Toby and his searing lips on mine.

I drew my mouth from his and pushed my hands against his chest flirtatiously. It's time, I thought excitedly.

Very slowly, I lifted my shirt over my head, revealing my bare breasts and lacy thong. The black lace covered only a little bit of my cheeks, showing my full bottom, and the straps around my hips were as thin as ribbons. It rested below my navel, where some of my naughty parts were peeking through.

I hooked my fingers underneath the thin straps of my thong and pulled them over my hips, teasing him. Toby groaned and pulled me in for a long, loving kiss, and I parted my lips for him. I slowly moved my tongue with his, sipping on him.

I shuddered as I yielded to him and kissed his soft mouth, the passion surging through me like wildfire. I felt the electricity sparking, charging higher and higher, connecting us closer. I kissed him more fiercely now, trying to catch up to his longing passion. My heart thudded amidst our kisses, infusing our desire.

My fingers brushed along his hipbones, fondling with his towel. I felt Toby shiver beneath my touch by a pleasure that made my insides tremble.

I slid my hands down his navel as we continued to kiss, and slowly tugged off his towel. My pelvis throbbed with deep desire from seeing the length of his impressive bulge. It sent tingles below my navel, scampering down in between my thighs. I couldn't control it.

I reached for his member, stroking and rubbing it with my hand. Toby groaned against my lips. Our kisses turned more urgent, and we backed into the bed.

He slid his hands inside the sides of my undies and quickly slid them off my hips, leaving me naked and vulnerable in front of him. Every inch of my body felt electrified, buzzing with pleasure.

Toby rubbed his hands sensually against my breasts. I wanted him to lick me. He sucked on my navel, and I quivered.

"I love you," I sighed. I grabbed his face roughly in between my hands and crushed my lips to his.

"I love you," Toby murmured. "Let me show you how much."

Suddenly, Toby's head disappeared in between my legs, and I felt him in there. I clutched the sheets fiercely on either side of me and moaned. He pushed in deeper, sucking on me. I wrapped my legs around his head and he went in further.

After a few minutes of sucking and licking, Toby stopped to stroke my face, gazing at me with immeasurable love. He was looking at me as though I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

And then Toby wrapped his legs around my waist, settling gently onto my hips. I started breathing heavily. I wanted this so badly. I placed my legs over his shoulders and dug my heels into his back as he moved inside me.

I groaned at the feeling of him in me. He was so big and firm. He moved wildly against me, stealing my breath. Something in me swelled, making me weak.

"Tell me the story again, Toby," I rasped.

"But it's made up," Toby said.

"I don't care."

"When I was in the army," he began, "there were many soldiers unattended in their cabins. So we had a lot of opportunities to be…discreet. There were a lot of women, a lot of lovers." His voice was low and husky, turning me on. Sexy.

I moaned. I felt a burning-hot orgasm shiver below my navel, exploding throughout my entire body and into his. I knew Toby could feel it, because he sped up. The heat between us scorched my skin. I was hot.

"Oohhhh!" Toby yelped.

Toby jerked against my hips, digging me deeply into the mattress. I gasped and clutched at his butt with my fingers, trying to hold on as he grinded into me. Oh, I loved him so much.

"Put it all the way in," I panted.

He obeyed. When I felt him move all the way in completely, I moaned deeply. Toby jerked gently inside me, slowly filling me.

"Don't stop, please!" I begged. "More, more!"

Toby rolled his hips sensually, but firmly against mine as he continued to make love to me. We were both sweating like crazy now, out of breath, getting closer. Every stroke of his member inside me felt more pleasurable and satisfying than the next.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I cried. "YEEEESSSSSSSS!"

He groaned and moved in deeply, lingering at my special spot. I locked my legs around his waist and pushed him into me, refusing to let go. Toby gently tugged on my nipple with his teeth and something deep inside me quivered, making me wet. I groaned.

Toby parted his lips over my breast and began to suck, licking it smoothly. He continued to work on it while he cupped my other breast in his hand, massaging it. Several erotic sensations swarmed through my body as he kissed my chest. I moaned, writhing against the bed.

Finally, I squeezed my legs around him and rolled on top of him, pressing my palms against his sweaty, muscular chest. The sight of it made my pelvis burn.

I spread my legs far apart and straddled his hips like a lioness, getting ready for her prey. A deep growl escaped my lips, trembling with longing. I needed him inside me. Then Toby's mouth captured mine again, and I gasped. His hands stroked my back as he kissed me, touching me all over.

I leaned down and pressed my lips softly to his. I wanted to make love to him all morning.

I fit myself to him, and we were moving together again. I panted hard as I pushed rapidly on top of him like a bunny, losing control. I could feel him getting me there, and I sped up in excitement.

Suddenly, my belly pooled with desire, then stilled. "Don't move."

Toby paused as my orgasm rippled through me, swallowing me whole. Somewhere deep below my navel burned with undeniable passion. When I finally got there, I moved swiftly against his hips, jerking into him beyond my control.

Then we began ramming the headboard against the wall with our movements. I rolled my hips against his slowly, taking my time. Toby groaned and clutched the sheets in his hands. My back arched as I thrusted against him and screamed like a wild animal.

It felt like our first time, the way it felt the very first time that we touched, aside from the pain of him spreading through my virginity. Nervous, excited, terrified. I was not a virgin; I'd given everything away to the one person I loved and trusted completely: Toby.

All I felt was pleasure in this moment. It cascaded through my body like a waterfall. This felt new to me, yet familiar and exciting all at once as our bodies tangled as one in the bed sheets. No holding back, no fear.

My body shook uncontrollably from the anticipation, of waiting and wanting for so long. The need wound tighter and stronger, vibrating between us like magnets. Something stronger than love made me tremble with longing and passion. The sensations were so intense, it nearly frightened me, pulling me in a million different directions. All I could see was Toby.

Just his soft touch against my skin sparkled my body alive, making me sensitive to everything about him. I could taste his sweet, intoxicating kisses upon mine, could feel the unbelievable softness and heat radiating from his fingertips as he moved them all over my body, his skin on my skin. I wanted Toby to see the way I'd been dreaming of this moment. It was a picture of perfection, the vision of us making love.

Tension built up higher and higher, until I felt the sweet heave of release. I cried out as I spurted all of my energy in that moment, savoring every last taste. Our sex left a sweet, candy-coated taste in my mouth, and I wanted more.

We didn't stop to catch our breath; we never wanted to stop. Toby had the most beautiful, perfect body and I had him all to myself. I didn't want it to ever end.

As I rocked against Toby, I felt a light gasping battering inside my ribs. I slowed, settling onto his strong hips.

"She's kicking," I smiled. I took Toby's hand and placed it on my tummy.

Toby's lips spread up into a grin and he leaned up to kiss my stomach. "Hi, baby. Daddy loves you."

Another flutter thrummed against the walls of my stomach. Three hearts, beating together as one. One family.

Hours later, I squirmed slightly next to Toby naked in bed, needing to be closer still.

He moved his cheek to my hair. "Spencer, what's wrong?"

"I want to snuggle."

Toby opened up his arms for me and I slid into his chest, snuggling deeply into him.

"You're snuggly this morning," he murmured into my hair.

"It's the baby," I lied. "She wants to be closer to you."

Toby caught my bluff. "It's you." He kissed the side of my head playfully, and I giggled.

He cupped my cheek and brought my mouth onto his, kissing me deeply and passionately. Our lips didn't separate, not even for a second.

After spending several glorious minutes kissing, I collapsed against his chest, breathing hard. Toby held me against him, stroking my hair softly. I sighed and nuzzled into his beautiful chest.

"I'm sorry, I just…" I sighed. "I just love you so much."

"Shhh." Toby kissed the side of my head, moving down to my ear. "I love you, too," he whispered, sucking on my earlobe.

I sighed happily. My cheek was pressed against Toby's chest and he was holding me close to him, tenderly stroking my hair. With his arms wrapped around me tightly, I never felt safer and more content. No one and nothing could pop my bubble of happiness now.

I drew small circles onto Toby's chest. "Do you have to go to that seminar?" I asked sadly.

Toby rubbed his nose into my hair, smelling my scent. "Yes. If I could get out of it, I would."

Tanner had called Toby urgently not long after we'd come back from Bucks County, telling him she needed him at a police seminar in Harrisburg immediately for the investigation of Charles DiLaurentis. Lorenzo and one of the local police department's deputies, Barry Maple, would also be attending because of the threat Charles had imposed on five innocent teenage girls, and they would all be filing a strategy plan to trap Charles. Toby would only be there to observe the meeting, Tanner had said. Two of the FBI agents working with the Rosewood Police Department on the case, Cruize and Hoffman, would help provide new information regarding Charles or any new suspects involved. Tanner also wanted to increase patrol around Rosewood and enforce a curfew as well.

I knew why he had to go, but the thought still left a painful ache. I buried my face into his chest, trying to hide the sorrow in my expression.

Toby brushed back my hair. "Hey, I'll just be in Harrisburg for a few days, and then I'll be back."

I sighed softly at his fingers in my hair.

"Don't you think it's time?" he asked quietly after a moment.

I peered up at him. "For what?"

"To tell your parents about the baby."

I let out a deep sigh. "Toby, I'm not ready."

"It's not going to be any easier the longer we wait," Toby murmured. "They'll begin to notice when the baby grows bigger. It's best to tell them now."

"I'm not ready, okay?"

He kissed my cheek. "I'm going to be here the whole time, okay? You're never alone, not even for a second."

I lifted my face up to his reluctantly, where Toby kissed me softly on the lips. "Promise?"

"I promise," he whispered. "That reminds me."

Toby leaned over the nightstand without disturbing my position against him. I snuggled closer to him and slid my hand across his chest, sighing happily. I loved lying naked with him.

He reached into the top drawer of my old bedside table and pulled out something small and shiny. In his hand was a silver key. It was Toby's key to the loft, I realized.

Toby pressed the key into my palm. "A home warming present. I love you."

I examined it in my hand. "Is this…?"

"It's the key to my loft." He smiled. "Our loft."

"Oh, Toby, I love you too." I immediately smashed my mouth to his, kissing him so deeply that I thought I would burst from the love I felt for him. I pulled away to gaze at Toby and he stared back at me, his eyes halfway closed, as if he was dreaming.

I traced my fingers over his face, amazed that this was the beginning of my forever with him.

Jess

When I woke up in the guest room the next morning, the early sunlight was streaming in through the bedroom window, illuminating my body and Jason's. His arm was draped around me as I dozed peacefully.

I tried to ignore Jason's soft skin brushing up against my own. Then I felt his arm grazing mine. His hand trailed down to my wrist, then curled into my palm, holding my hand. I turned, being careful not to disturb him, but it was too late. He was already awake.

When I opened my eyes, I felt a light smile whisper across my lips. Jason smiled back at me, and the look of longing was evident in his eyes.

But could I enjoy the moment? Nope.

My new cell phone vibrated on the bedside table next to me. I reluctantly rolled over and reached for it. A new text message glowed on the screen. It was from Payton.

It's done. Jonny took the bait. Meet me and Ali in the woods at seven.

My shoulders bunched up in tension. One part of me was relieved to finally get this over with, but another part was terrified. I glanced over at the digital alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. It was 8:30 A.M. I had eleven hours until I had to meet Payton and Ali, and I couldn't spend it here to let Mr. DiLaurentis find me in bed with his son.

I quickly pulled back the covers and set my feet onto the floor as I caught the painful sunlight streaming in though the window. Then I changed back into my clothes and grabbed my satchel bag.

"Jess?" Jason mumbled. He sat up in bed, his gorgeous golden hair tousled from sleep. His eyes had turned to a light, sparkling blue, and his skin was glowing. It was almost irritating how good he looked in the morning.

Before I could answer, my old phone started buzzing at the bottom of my bag. I rooted around for it and dug out the small, black prepaid burner flip phone. It looked old and cheap compared to the iPhone Ali had given to me before I'd left her house yesterday.

Josh had left me five messages, each one more urgent than the next:

Jess, where are you? Text me back as soon as you get this.

The next message was sent just a couple days after the first.

Jess, I'm getting worried. I haven't heard from you in days.

I scrolled through the rest of the messages from Josh, noting the panic in each one. He knew what happened the last time I'd left Ohio.

I shut my eyes and snapped the phone shut, a huge lump forming in my throat. I itched to write Josh back, but I knew doing so would make him come looking for me. He had texted and called a few more times during the past week, but I hadn't responded in fear of revealing what was really happening. As far as Josh knew, I was on a bus heading towards the west coast or squatting in a neglected tree stump somewhere in the woods, which is where I had gone the last time that I had run away from home. I'd made my tree stump home out of sticks and logs and firewood, and it didn't offer much warmth, but it provided shelter and a place to hide my food from the woodland creatures of the forest and kept me safe from my father.

Absently, I traced my finger over the locket that hung around my neck and turned to Jason. "Um, I should get going." I slung the bag over my shoulder and started for the door.

But then Jason climbed out of bed, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs below his hips. "I could drive you."

"Jason…" I protested. He looked like he was thinking about staying with me, confusing our already complex relationship.

"Or not. But are you going to be alright alone?" When Jason gazed into my eyes, my insides turned to jelly. I felt like he could see right through me, right down to my soul. He would know if I was lying.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'll just lock all the doors and windows, and take a hot bath. Try and relax."

"Okay." Jason looked away, trying not to seem phased by my rejection, but I could see the disappointment on his face. Remorse crippled me. I couldn't stand hurting him.

"I'm just trying to stay sane," I tried to explain. "With everything going on, I just don't want to lose myself." My eyes flickered up to his for a moment, my cheeks flooding with heat. "Not that I don't want to."

Jason caught my gaze and slowly raised a hand to my face, stroking my cheek softly. My skin warmed at the touch of his skin against mine. Then he leaned in to kiss me on the other cheek, letting his hand linger there.

My lips parted slightly as I released a quiet breath, a nervous sensation fluttering through me. I tried not to be too aware of the fact that he was naked to the waist except for his Calvin Klein boxers, which clung to him tightly. If Ali knew I was thinking about her brother that way, she would probably kill me.

Jason locked his eyes onto mine. They were growing bluer by the second. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"I know, but I have to." I reluctantly stepped away from him, pain swallowing me as I did so.

Jason looked at me for a few long seconds before walking out the door. Flickers of sorrow hid behind his eyes. I closed my eyes and sighed in despair. I wanted him so badly my whole body throbbed.

I slid down against the wall and brought my knees up to my chest, staying there until my dark mood finally subsided. Some of it, anyway. I couldn't explain why I was feeling this way about a guy who was off limits, or why he made my heart race every time I saw him. All I knew was that I couldn't stand being away from Jason, even for a minute. If I lived in a world where I could have both Jason and Ali, then my life would be perfect.

I dragged myself downstairs, stopping in the archway of the living room when I noticed Ali sitting quietly on the couch. The curtains were closed, leaving no light in the room except for the sun glinting against a small portion of the glass windows. Her face was pinched with anger and her eyebrows knitted together, looking like she was deep in thought about something.

I frowned. "Ali, are you okay?"

Alison startled, as if she hadn't expected to see me standing there. "Jess. I didn't know you were here."

I looked her over. Ali wore dark sweatpants and a faded grey 23 long-sleeved shirt. It was unlike her to look so un-put together. But even when Ali dressed sloppy, she still managed to look gorgeous. It made me wonder if it had something to do with Charles.

"Um, yeah, I–" I stuttered, walking into the room.

Just then, a chatter of voices floated in the room from outside.

"I mean, how many people has she put behind bars?" said a guy's smooth, deep voice. "I think they should chain her to the bed."

I realized where the voice was coming from and I fumed. How. Dare. He. As if Ali hadn't been through enough, now people had to judge her in front of her house? It was infuriating.

Ali walked over to the big bay window and pulled back the heavy floral curtain, peering into the front yard. Two cops stood around some police cruisers parked behind Kenneth's parked silver Mercedes in the DiLaurentis' private drive, guarding the house for safety from Charles. Sunlight bathed Ali's face against her short, blonde hair, making her look even more angelic.

Alison grimaced. My blood boiled, filling my body with anger. Damn them. Police officers were trained to serve and protect. Meanwhile, two of Rosewood's finest were bad-mouthing Ali in her own home. And I wasn't about to let them get away with it.

"They can't do that!" I set my jaw and stormed up to the door, ready to tell them exactlywhat I thought of their rudeness.

Ali grabbed my arm, stopping me. "Forget it, Jess. This is how it is here. People either think you walk on water, or you're crazy. I might as well get used to it."

I looked at her. "Since when do you let people talk about you like that? Ali, that's not you."

"A lot of things aren't like me lately." She had a defeated expression on her face, and her eyes looked red and tired. "And besides, it's not like I have a choice."

"You can't let those people bully you," I pushed. "You need to fight back."

"Right, because fighting back worked so well for you."

I raised my chin slightly and looked away, trying to hide the hurt in my eyes. "Well, not everyone needs a cop to help get what they want."

The instant the words left my mouth, I regretted saying them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

Ali shook her head. "It's okay. You're not the first one to think it."

After a few long seconds passed, I asked, "Did you talk to Payton?"

She pursed her lips together. "Yeah, Jonny fell for the bait. But you have to stay out of sight until then. If he knows you're here–"

"I know, I know. I was just heading back to the cabin."

Alison's eyes turned soft. "I'm sorry, Jess."

I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. "For what?"

"For everything."

"This isn't your fault." I paused, a dark cloud suddenly disrupting my thoughts. "But we haven't talked about the most important thing yet. Spencer."

Ali frowned. "What about her?"

"Jonny came to Rosewood looking for me. I don't think it was an accident that he happened to be staying in the Hastings barn."

Realization slowly morphed into Ali's features. "You think Jonny was using Spencer to get to you?"

"No, Ali," I said. "I don't think it. I know it."

Spencer

After taking a shower with Toby, I had gotten dressed in a blue and white striped tunic, black leggings and my knee-high red suede boots, and pulled on my maternity belly band underneath. I'd walked downstairs into the kitchen to find Toby brewing cherry tart juice in a teapot on the stove for my anxiety. The smell of freshly brewed coffee that my mom had made before leaving for the gym this morning wafted up my nose. But I was well into my sixth month of pregnancy and I wasn't about to hurt my little one by drinking a cup of coffee.

I had my cell phone wedged between my chin and shoulder as I stuffed my schoolbooks into my brown leather Kate Spade tote bag, filling in Aria about my nightmare from last night.

"Hold it," Aria said over the phone. "Go back. Did you see his face in the dream?"

"The word is nightmare," I reminded her. "And no, I didn't. That's why I fell off the bed."

"So who was the little girl?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I've never seen her before." I paused, thinking back to the little girl from my dream. "Or maybe I have."

"Well, again, Spencer, it was just a dream," she tried to assure me. "Or nightmare."

My hands started shaking. "Well, what about that creepy room? I mean, do you remember ever seeing it–"

"I don't know, and if I did, I've completely burned it from my brain," Aria cut me off. She paused after a moment. "Listen, I should go."

"Wait, wait," I pleaded. "When we went back inside after A locked us out, do you remember a tiled room? It was right next to the–"

"Spencer, I do not wanna–"

"Aria, please. Just help me." My voice rose higher.

"I can't. Seriously. It–it is taking all that I have to forget that place." She sighed. "It is bad enough that I can't even walk by the photo lab–"

"What did you do with that hair dye?" I interrupted. As I spoke, I grabbed a handful of the toasted bread that Toby had cooked for me off my plate, spread jam onto it with a knife, and shoveled it into my mouth hungrily.

Last week, when Aria went to the dark room at Hollis College to develop her photos, she'd found a bottle of hair dye with a message from A attached that read: You're MY doll, bitch. Aria had remembered it from her time at the Dollhouse when A had forced her to dye her hair in pink stripes the way she had in ninth grade, or he would cut off all her hair. Panicked by A's note, Aria hurried to the exit. But when she tried to open the door, it was locked from the outside. Sometime later that day, a guy named Clark let her out, who had been working in the next room and noticed that someone left a wedge in the door, trapping Aria inside.

I peered up at Toby guiltily, hoping he couldn't hear. I still hadn't told him the whole truth about Charles. But the steamer on the teapot was shrieking was loud that he hadn't even looked up.

I heard Aria let out a long sigh. "You're giving me cramps."

"Aria, we can't just throw away clues," I insisted. I chewed the bread slowly in my mouth, savoring the sweet jam.

"What're eating?" Aria sounded suspicious.

I took another greedy bite when a square of hot pick caught my eye. On the coffee machine, someone had stuck a Post-It note on the pot's glass. I recognized my mother's scrolling, perfect script and resisted the urge to smash the coffee pot onto the floor. My mom had written, Mr. Hackett needs an answer.

Yesterday, after Toby and I had come home from our romantic getaway, my mom had lectured me for leaving without a note about where I was going. Then she'd told me that Rosewood High's principal, Mr. Hackett, wanted me to be the senior class valedictorian at graduation this coming June, which was only a few weeks away. And although I'd refused, she continued to pressure me into accepting his offer. My mother was actually encouraging me to say yes. It felt so wrong.

I could already picture the auditorium when I gave them my valedictorian speech, all those people pitying me. There would be police officers in every perimeter of the school, securing the exit and entrances. Then I'd have to be escorted out of the building with my friends while the other graduates got their pictures taken. And my mother would hand over a million dollar check to principal Hackett for rewarding me with the role of valedictorian, but everyone else would know it was only a pity nomination for what I went through in the Dollhouse. I didn't want to be rewarded for something I never asked for. I didn't need it then, and I certainly didn't need it now.

"Hello?" Aria said. "Spencer, are you there?"

"Yeah. I'm still here." I walked up to the coffee machine and ripped off the note in one fierce motion. "My mother's just sitting on my chest. She's still on my case about this stupid valedictorian thing."

I reached up into the cupboard and grabbed my favorite green-and-white coffee travel mug, and then moved to the massive stainless-steel fridge to pull out a jug of Vitamin C orange juice.

"Well, why don't you just say yes?" Aria asked.

"Because it's a pity toss, that's why," I said, pouring the orange juice into my thermos. "I've been gone for over a month. She probably offered to buy them a planetarium."

"Just do it," Aria urged. "Please, just give me a friggin' reason to go to graduation."

"Oh, really?" I said sarcastically. "Now you wanna go to graduation? I thought your dad excused you from ever having to set foot in school again?"

Suddenly, the teapot on the kitchen stove squealed, signaling the tart juice was finished. Toby turned off the heater on the stove and carefully put down the teapot on the cool, steel surface.

"Oh, God," I said into the phone. "I have to run."

"What just happened?" Aria sounded confused.

"Uh, my mom just got back from Curves and I'm not having this argument with her after she pumped iron," I lied. "I'll call you later, okay? Bye." I quickly hung up and moved over to the stove by Toby, smiling up at him.

He handed me a ceramic cup of cherry tart juice, his fingers brushing against mine. The instant our hands touched, a spark of electricity jostled through me. My heart hammered inside my chest.

"Why don't you do the valedictorian speech?" Toby asked suddenly, meeting my eyes.

I lowered my eyes, trying to avoid looking up into the intensity of his gaze. I knew one look at him, and I would cave.

I took a sip of my juice. "I don't know how I feel about it. Everyone looks at me like I'm a dog with wheels. What's the point of giving a valedictorian speech if they're only letting you do it out of pity?"

"They wouldn't have asked you to speak if they didn't think you were right for the part," he said. "You're one of the smartest, most capable, and greatest speaker I know."

I flushed and turned my face away bashfully. "Toby, I really appreciate the encouragement, but to be valedictorian you need something you have accomplished, something to be proud of. The only greatest achievement I have is that I survived high school."

"I would love to hear what you have to write." Toby cupped my cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. "But I'll support you no matter what you decide. I'll always be here for you."

I sighed and closed my eyes. I was so sensitive to everything now. Even Toby's light touch was enough to drive me insane.

I pressed my cheek into his palm, kissing his fingers. "I want you," I whispered.

"Then come here." Toby wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled into his chest.

I pressed my nose into his shirt, inhaling his sweet scent of soap and spices. He kissed the top of my head.

Toby pulled away reluctantly to reach for something sitting on the counter, but I still clung to him. When I looked up, he handed me a bundle of cherry tart juice packets that were tied together with some string.

"I got you some more cherry tart juice at the store while I'm away. They're supposed to help you sleep."

At the mention of him leaving, emotion swelled in me and my lower lip quivered. "But I don't want you to go."

I set down the packets on the table and threw my arms around him. My eyes began to blur with tears as I sobbed into his neck.

Toby rubbed my back. "Shhhh. It's only for a few days. I'll be back before you know it."

The sound of his voice soothing me was so comforting. I didn't know how I was going to survive these next few days without him. I hated being away from Toby, even for a minute.

More tears slid down my cheeks. "I really don't want you to go."

Toby tightened his arms around me. "Me neither. I hate leaving you so much."

He picked me up by the waist, and I wrapped my legs around him tightly. I wanted to hug him forever.

"The baby and I will miss you so much." I buried my face into his neck and squeezed my eyes shut.

"I'll miss you, too," Toby whispered.

My stomach twisted in a million knots when the house's main door squeaked open, and my heart raced. A second later, I heard the sound of my father's car rolling into the driveway, announcing his arrival. Oh, why did Toby have to call him? The second we heard my parents,' Toby set me down on my feet.

I quickly grabbed my cashmere sweater from the couch and wrapped it securely around myself, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I wanted to hide my baby bump from them, or shrink into the couch.

Toby squeezed my hand, as if sensing my anxiety. "It's going to be okay," he assured me. "I'm right here."

I nodded, but my insides still trembled. Toby pulled me onto the couch with him, keeping my hand in his.

I heard the crunch of gravel outside as my dad walked up to the side of the house. The handle turned, and he pushed through the door at the same time my mother walked into the kitchen. The stench of car fumes filtering inside was overwhelming, and suddenly, my breakfast from this morning came hurtling back.

In his crisp black suit and silver tie, my father looked more like the head CEO of a million-dollar company than a successful attorney. And my mother wore a sleek black suit and nude slingback pumps. They both looked at Toby and I in confusion when they spotted us sitting together on the couch. Lately, my dad had been putting in more of an effort to be civil towards Toby, unlike my mom, who adored him. But I was sure that would end soon.

My stomach rolled. I grabbed my cup from the glass coffee table and took a sip of the cherry tart juice that Toby had concocted up for me. The liquid slid down my throat, a sweet, biter taste.

My dad was the first to speak. "Hey, Spencer. Toby. What's going on?"

"We have something we need to talk to you about," I said in what I hoped was a calm voice. "We have some…news to share."

Veronica and Peter stared at us for a minute before sitting down in the matching cushioned chairs opposite of us. My dad's expression changed from confusion to suspicion in just seconds. The room was so quiet, I could hear the air conditioning vents whirring.

I took a deep breath. "Mom, dad, there's no easy way to say this."

My dad went ridged. "You're pregnant!" he exploded.

I stared at him with wide, stunned eyes, cringing away from him into Toby, and immediately covered my stomach with the throw blanket that was draped over the armchair of the couch to hide the evidence.

He glared at Toby. "Did he do this to you?"

"Peter, calm down," my mom said. "Let's see what they have to say first."

A long pause passed. After a moment, my mother turned to me and asked, "Spencer, are you really pregnant?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

My dad glowered darkly at me. "How could you be so carless and reckless? I thought we raised you better than that."

My jaw dropped, and I saw Toby's hand clench into a tight fist.

My mother's face paled. "I don't even know what to say."

"I know what you must be thinking," I started.

"No, I don't think you do," she said sternly. "This is your future we're talking about! You can say goodbye to college."

A fire of anger pushed through me from my mother's harsh words. "Well, maybe I don't want to go to college right now."

My mom glanced down at my stomach, finally noticing the rapid size of it underneath my cashmere sweater. I felt like I was going to vomit.

"Have you not given a thought at all about what you're going to do? I mean…" She wrung her hands in helplessness and looked down.

"I am ashamed that you are my daughter," my father said. "If it were up to me, I'd throw you out of this house right now."

I glowered at him. "Well, you won't have to worry about that anymore. I'll be living with Toby. All of my stuff is moved into his loft. And we'll be turning one of the rooms into a nursery for the baby."

"You two are planning to move in together?" my mother asked in astonishment.

My dad's face reddened. "Spencer, I will not let you embarrass this family!"

"I'm keeping her!" I shouted. "I've loved her ever since I first found out."

Emotional tears sprung to my eyes as I tore them away. The grief and overwhelming love I felt for my daughter was so strong it felt like my chest would explode. I wished my parents would hold me in their arms and tell me everything was going to be okay. But they couldn't even look at me. My dad's words still stung: I am ashamed that you are my daughter. He had never said anything like that to me before.

"Do you realize what you have done?" my mother asked. "What were you thinking?"

Toby put a hand on my back and then turned to my mother. "Mrs. Hastings, Spencer and I are having this baby together. You can either support us, or we'll raise her on our own. But either way, we are having a baby." He squeezed my hand comfortingly.

And then my dad's eyes locked onto the ring on my finger and a look of disgust came over his face. I held my breath, bracing myself for the worst.

For a long time, neither of my parents said anything. My mother pursed her lips, deep in thought. My father's black expression soon turned to rage, his jaw clenched. They studied the two of us for what seemed like an eternity.

Then my dad gave me a withering look. "Get your things. And then get out of my sight." He rose from his chair and left the room, slamming the patio door behind him.

I couldn't hold back the sob that was stuck in my throat. Tears ran down my cheeks.

A hint of sympathy glimmered on my mother's face, but it quickly vanished as quickly as if it had never been there to begin with. She gave me one last long, disappointed look before standing up and walking up the stairs to her bedroom without saying a word to either Toby and I.

I balled my hands into fists, willing myself to stop crying. I wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and disappear. Toby rubbed my back and pulled me into his chest, murmuring that everything was going to be okay. I sniveled as I cried into his shirt.

After a few minutes, my sobs slowly began to subside and I relaxed in Toby's arms. He reached over to wipe a few stray tears that had leaked out of my eyes.

I tried to keep my chin from wobbling, wanting to be strong. But when I looked into the deep blue depths of Toby's eyes, my body collapsed into him, shaking uncontrollably.

"Do you see what you're leaving me with?" I wept.

Toby cradled me to his chest. "Spence, I'm always with you, even when I'm not. And besides, I already called Emily and she's going to look after you while I'm gone."

I sighed, starting to feel myself relax. "Thank you."

He stroked my cheek tenderly. "I would never leave you alone. I'm going to call you every morning and every night, and then I'll be home and you'll be back in my arms."

I leaned into his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beat, and he wrapped his arms around me.

I snuggled in Toby's arms for a while longer as he held me, using his shirt as my tissue. Once he was sure I calm, Toby put on his jacket and gathered all his stuff into his police bag for the seminar. Then he kissed me goodbye at the door, prolonging it for as long as he could, almost like he didn't want to leave either.

A painful ache hit me with overpowering strength as I watched him drive out of the house's driveway in his truck. And even though I was carrying a baby, my stomach suddenly felt empty, a void that couldn't be filled. I hated seeing him go. I was going to miss him so much.

Sighing sadly, I grabbed my purse and the cherry tart juice packets Toby had given me, and got into the front seat of my Toyota. I couldn't get out of here fast enough.

As I drove, the picture of the young girl dancing in that room popped back into my head, almost like it had somehow embedded itself into my brain. A swarm of emotions overpowered me then: terror from being trapped in that Dollhouse, anger what A had done to me, the grief over thinking I had lost Toby again. Our love had survived so much, and yet A was testing it. Again. And I couldn't get rid of this feeling that I'd been there before when I was in the Dollhouse. The nightmare still gave me chills just thinking about it.

My head spun, trying to analyze every detail of the dream. To remember something, anything. My gut twisted painfully as I realized how I must have recognized that room. From A, when he made me hurt someone from the night I couldn't remember. That must have been how it all happened.

Tears stung my eyes, a reaction in partial to my pregnancy and another in part to not knowing what I had done or why. I tried focusing on the empty road in front of me instead. After Toby's car accident six months ago, I didn't want to take another trip to the hospital and worry him.

It was early by the time I arrived at school, but kids were still loitering in the courtyard for morning breakfast and coffee. I put a hand self-consciously on my stomach as I strolled up Rosewood High's stone steps, trying to flatten out my tunic so no one would notice my baby bump.

I hadn't even taken two steps through the hallway before running into Hanna, who immediately delved into her run-in with Lesli Stone at The Brew this morning. After Mona was discovered to be alive by the police, it soon became apparent that Lesli had lied on the stand in court for Mona's faked murder and was now being questioned by the police.

As Hanna chattered about Lesli and Mona, I found my thoughts drifting back to Toby. Even though I'd only said goodbye to him this morning, I was going crazy missing him. Just imagining Toby's big, strong, sexy hands all over my body, of his skin touching mine, made my pelvis throb. The desire was so strong, it was difficult to think of anything else.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, I pulled my phone out of my bag. Toby was probably sitting in a conference right now with Tanner and a bunch of other police officers, but I couldn't control my emotions. So I typed in a message to him and hit SEND.

Hey babe, I miss you. When are you coming back?

Immediately, Toby responded with a new text, telling me all the things he wanted to do to me when he came back, and my spirits lifted.

I quickly wrote back. Guess what I'm wearing.

My iPhone vibrated again, and a steamy shirtless picture of Toby appeared on the screen. My thighs tingled, making my pelvis flood with heat.

I smiled and bit my lip, admiring Toby's impressive abs and the firmness of his thighs against the skin-tight boxers he was wearing in the photo. Judging by the looks of the silky black sheets Toby was sitting on, I had to guess he had taken it at the lake house from our romantic weekend together.

I sidled up next to Hanna, not even bothering to pretend I was listening anymore. Why can't you come back sooner? I sexted back. I want to be naked with you now!

I waited impatiently as Toby sent back a reply. Spence, I'll be back before you know it.

Frustrated, I clicked through the photos on my iPhone, selecting the right one and clicked SEND, writing, Can you come back now? flirtatiously. It was the half-naked photo I had taken of myself in my bedroom a couple days ago. In the photo, I was sitting on the black and white floral comforter with my legs curled up underneath me, wearing only a thin pair of lacy black panties. My arms were crossed over my chest, covering my bare breasts suggestively.

Within seconds, Toby had responded:

Spence, I miss you so much. I promise when I come back we'll spend a lot of quality time together ;)

My fingers slid across the key buttons as I sent another picture of myself to Toby. This one was of me in a crawling position on the bed like a cat, completely naked. The shape of my butt and breasts were exposed, and I was looking at the camera in a seductive pout. Underneath, I had written, I'll be waiting for you.

You're so sexy, baby, Toby wrote back.

I was so engrossed and lost in my sexting with Toby that I barely heard what Hanna was saying. I'd only caught partially of what she'd said. "…I mean, she acts like being questioned by the police is the same thing Mona's been through. And then she turns it on me. Me. I'm like, 'Hello! I should be biting your head off, freak. You're the one who testified against me.' Am I wrong?"

I stared down at my phone's screen and smiled giddily, feeling as though my whole body was vibrating. Toby was making me so horny, it was driving me crazy. And I began to wonder if I would be able to put up with the next few days without him. I needed his touch.

Hanna peered over my shoulder and glowered at me. "Okay, unless you're texting me the answer, you're rude."

We found an empty round table in the outdoor courtyard and sat down, with Hanna sitting across from me. Reluctantly, I looked up, distracted. "Wha… I'm sorry. Um, Toby's not back till Monday. That's a really long time to wait."

"Wait for what?" Hanna asked.

I turned to her and smiled, raising my eyebrows suggestively.

"Eww, why would you say that?" she protested.

"I didn't say anything," I said as innocently as I could. "I just smiled."

"Well, your cup may runneth over, but mine is bone dry," Hanna said glumly.

The smile faded from my lips. "Eww, why? Did you and Caleb have a fight?"

"No, we don't even fight anymore," Hanna answered. "He treats me like some cracked egg that fell out of a robin's nest."

Suddenly, Hanna's iPhone rang on the table, making a dinging sound. I looked at Hanna, thinking it must have been Caleb.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"Mona," she replied, looking at the text on her phone's screen. "She's scared of Alison and Lesli Stone now."

"Uh, just stay out of it," I told her.

But Hanna was adamant. "Hell no. Lesli is a freaking lunatic who needs a serious reality check. Mona was locked in a hole by someone who is still out there. Her friend should forgive her."

I averted my eyes and pursed my lips thoughtfully, feeling a glimmer of uneasiness tremble in my stomach. I recalled the faux look on Lesli's face when the prosecutor asked her why she didn't come forward with the information about Alison killing Mona sooner when she'd first disappeared. And the burst of anger that swept through me when she'd accused Hanna of stalking her. Lesli was crazy and she wasn't safe to be around right now. What if Lesli told the police that I had hurt someone from our time in the Dollhouse? After everything that had happened, A was still after us.

"That's not staying out of it," I lectured.

"Spencer, we can't have Mona quaking in her boots when we need that boot to kick the doors down at Radley," Hanna argued. "I mean, I'm not going back to that shredding place and Mona knows Radley more than any of us."

"Does she have any idea who could be posing as Ali's dead brother?" I pulled out a small plastic bag of chocolate-chip cookies from my purse and dove in.

"Don't say dead," Hanna said. "Charles isn't dead-dead until we find something to prove it."

She eyed the bag of cookies and tried to grab one, but I quickly smacked her hand away. An irrational streak of irritation and frustration jolted through me. Lately, I'd developed a craving for cookies and other sweets, like I couldn't get enough. And even though I just had breakfast with Toby this morning, my appetite had somehow morphed into a relentless, ravenous hunger.

"Ow!" Hanna cried. "What is wrong with you?"

I stuffed another cookie into my mouth, chewing the doughy goodness as the chocolate melted onto my tongue. "It's not your cookie."

Hanna looked offended. "Okay, first you're sexting Toby like some dog in heat and then you're gumming at your dessert like my grandma. How long do you want that cookie to last?"

"We're not talking about me, okay?" I said, changing the subject. "The subject is Charles, and it's not gonna be easy breaking into Radley with or without Mona."

Maybe I was giving up too easily, but I couldn't handle the stress for the baby. And I didn't feel any clearer about the flashes. Everything seemed blurry, like I'd just woken up from a very bad dream.

Hanna narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. "Are you buzzed?"

I frowned. "What? No. Hanna, focus."

She wasn't convinced. "You have the same look in your eyes as this girl in my government class who hums and makes chokers out of paper clips."

"I'm not humming," I insisted. "I'm just…I'm missing Toby." A miserable feeling swelled inside me.

"Well, Dr. Oz says sex is a drug, too, Spencer. Maybe you should figure that one out." Hanna picked up her purse off the table and strolled through the school's doors inside.

I glared at her back, fury rippling through me like lightening. Maybe it was just pregnancy hormones, but all I could think about in that moment was the rush of anger filling my body forcefully–at my parents for not supporting my decision to keep this baby. At A for torturing me in that Dollhouse for weeks. At myself for missing Toby so much and feeling so helpless. And most importantly, at Hanna for judging me about wanting to be close to Toby and making me feel shameful of it, leaving me to muddle with my own grim thoughts.

Blood pounded in my head, my stomach twisting in disgust at Hanna, and the rage bubbled over. I was pregnant; I had a right to feel hormonal. Hot, angry tears stung my eyes as I shoved the bag of cookies back into my purse and stomped off into the hall.

When my iPhone beeped, I jumped and felt for it in my purse, pulling it out. My stomach dropped. It was who I feared.

Tick tock, time's running out. If you try to find out who I am, it won't just be Bethany Young's blood that has spilled. I'm watching you, Spencer, and your newborn.

And, of course, it was signed, A.

Jess

After leaving Jason's, I soaked in the tub at the cabin for thirty minutes and changed into a long sleeved black-and-red plaid shirt and distressed black jeans, pairing it with my black converse. I'd let the hot water soak into my skin and the light, flowery fragrance from my bath hung in the air. Once I vigorously scrubbed away at the tiny cuts and bruises on my arms and legs with soap, I quickly ran a brush through my hair.

I knew it was ridiculous to try to get clean given what I was about to do tonight, but I didn't care. I wouldn't be staying long in Rosewood, anyway. With the instructions Payton had sent just an hour ago to the location of where Jonny would be meeting us, my best guess was that we'd be holding the trap deep in the woods. I wasn't expecting to escape or survive this. The lower the expectations, the better.

I pulled a warm black beanie over my head, grabbed my bag of belongings, and tromped through the cabin's gated yard to my new car, which was sitting parked just to the back of the property. I stared at the red, shiny Honda Civic, still in disbelief that it was really mine. With its black leather seats and sleek lines, it wasn't hard to notice that the car was gorgeous. Payton had given it to me shortly after I'd arrived in Rosewood, making me feel more like a princess than anything. Even after I insisted that I didn't need one–I was perfectly fine traveling on foot and hopping on buses–he told me to get over myself and keep it. I didn't feel comfortable with such an expensive gift, but knowing Payton, he wouldn't let up until he got what he wanted.

After stuffing my bag into the backseat of the car, I slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, purring like a panther. I peeled away from the house and drove slowly down the road, heading towards an isolated spot in the middle of the thick woods that stretched for miles.

My heart pounded as I stopped the car on the fresh earthy ground and stepped out. It was so dark out that I could barely see my feet. The sky was clear and black, with no sign of the moon or any starlight in sight.

Slowly, I approached the forest clearing up ahead, which was concealed by trees and shrubs, when I heard some rustling coming from somewhere off in the woods. I took a few steps back. After months of Jonny tracking me, I couldn't shake the paranoid feeling that I was being watched.

As I cautiously neared the trees, I could hear two hushed voices, talking quietly. I recognized a girl's smooth, lilting voice and hurried to the clearing. Payton and Alison both looked up when they saw me.

Ali had changed into a pair of her favorite French APC jeans and a striped cotton halter top that she'd tied in a perfect bow at her neck. Payton wore a faded grey T-shirt and dark blue jeans. Slung over his shoulder was a quiver full of arrows and he had a recurve arsenal bow gripped in his hand, intricately crafted and hand-finished in black leather and steel. A small dagger was attached at the upper limb of the bow. I couldn't help but notice the arrows glowed green at the tips, and I realized they were Payton's specially-made tranquilizer arrows to knock people out. Payton only ever used them when he had no other choice.

"Ready?" Ali asked, turning to me.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied solemnly.

Payton walked over to a copse of trees. "I'll be right here behind these trees." He looked to Alison and pointed to some bushes across the edge of the forest's clearing. "Ali, you need to be there by the bushes. Jess will stand in the center for Jonny. I'll come right out from behind him, okay?"

Ali nodded. "Okay." She moved behind the bushes and hunched onto her knees, making herself as small as possible.

Payton gestured for me to stand beside him at the rock boulder that was sitting in the middle of the forest clearing. "Jess, come over here. When Jonny comes, he's not going to lay a hand on you. Do you remember what you have to do?"

"Yes," I answered.

He slipped off the dagger from his bow and pressed it gently into my palm. I slid the sleek metal underneath the sleeve of my shirt. It felt cool and firm in my hand, and a sense of reassurance washed over me.

"Get in your positions," Payton instructed.

I moved to the middle of the sparse woods, planting my feet into the ground. After a minute, I looked up to the moon bathing me in its luminous glow, and I exhaled a breath of relief. At least there was some light. The paved trails from both directions were empty. It was so quiet, I could hear the crickets chirping.

I breathed in sharply as a horrible thought came over me and the sky seemed to darken. What if Jonny had come solely to Rosewood to get close to Spencer? And if Jonny was working for A and he'd been able to get information from her about Ali, it only made sense that he would know what Charles was up to and where he was hiding. Maybe he had tricked Spencer the same way he'd fooled me.

Was I an idiot to think I could pull this off and free myself from Jonny's grasp? From my father? Or what if this was another one of A's well-laid plans to set me up the way Jonny had? Slowly, I let my mind creep over the private, intricate details of my relationship with Jonny. I'd first met him a year ago in Denver, right after I had finished my NA recovery program at an addiction center in Colorado for my drug problem. I'd been clean for eight months when I got out. I never returned home. Not because I was a teenage runaway who had no money or a mother, but because I was tired of getting kicked and punched and thrown down the stairs. I knew it was stupid to run away, but I didn't care. I couldn't go back to my dad and I didn't belong in Colorado. It was like I had no home. So I stayed on the streets, shuffling between motels and staking out the safest areas in the woods to find shelter. When I left, I didn't look back. I kept my head down and avoided people as much as possible, trying to stay invisible. Trying to survive. That was until Jonny.

I braced myself for the memory as it pulled me under–the moment I met Jonny. When I knew he was trouble and I didn't care.

The cold October air prickled on my skin, the sounds of the bustling city all around me. The scents of exhaust fumes and metal filled my nostrils. I kept my footsteps soft as I passed the demolition company's barren lot through an empty alley, ignoring the crunch of gravel beneath my feet. It was the perfect place to steal a car.

The feeling of doing something reckless and possibly getting caught sent waves of pleasure through my body, hot and electric and alive. After months of sleeping in fallen tree trunks in the canopy forest and squatting in unfinished realtor houses that home developers didn't care about, I realized it was time for a change. I couldn't keep this up forever. It would only be a matter of time before the police found me and took me back to Ohio. And since I had no money or a driver's license, I couldn't very well get myself a car the conventional way.

I stopped when I spotted a tan Volkswagon van sitting off to the side against a chain-link fence, seemingly abandoned. It was ten o'clock at night and all the stores were closed, not a soul in sight. Deciding to take my chances, I walked towards the vehicle. I pulled out a lockout stick from my messenger bag that I'd found in an old junkyard, then stealthily slid it into my leather jacket's sleeve and inserted it into the slit of the driver's side window. It unlocked with a satisfying click.

I looked around to make sure no one was nearby before getting into the van. Setting my bag down on the passenger seat, I dug out the screwdriver and a big rock that I had hidden in there. I stuck the flat end of the screwdriver into the car's ignition switch to pick the lock mechanism. After jamming the rock against the end of the screwdriver a few times, the ignition started with a quiet rev. I smiled with satisfaction.

The only light came from an eerie glow of the streetlights above. I put the van into reverse and then pulled out of the lot, driving into town. The wheels squeaked as I maneuvered onto the street. I was free. Free to go wherever I wanted without having to worry about the police kicking me off the streets, to be able to have a place to sleep at night.

Ramshackle houses and run-down buildings covered in graffiti flew past me as I drove. Like the rest of the houses in this part of town, they were surrounded by rickety-old fences and desolate lawns. The van moved steadily against the gravely road, the city flashing by with a blur of gray and dark blue outside. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't care. All that mattered was that I was gone. Before I could think any more of it, a voice suddenly spoke to me.

" Going somewhere?"

Startled, I realized someone was in the backseat. A guy sat up from his spot behind me where he had been lying, and I gasped. A spicy and sweet scent hung heavily off his skin, and I recognized the familiar smell of clove cigarettes.

"But you could have just asked me for the keys." He held out a pair of silver car keys in front of me and gave me a crooked smile, looking infuriatingly amused.

I darted my eyes back and forth, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment. If I'd been paying closer attention, I would have noticed there was someone else in the car and I could have avoided this whole thing. The guy curled his hand into a fist and casually leaned his cheek into it, watching me with interest.

I eyed him warily, getting a better look at him. The guy had prominent cheekbones with longish, unkempt brown hair, and he was lean and lanky. The dark hoodie and artfully tattered jeans suggested he was an art rebel. His eyes were either blue or green–his hoodie was covering part of his face for me to be sure. He was cute, and he looked to be a few years older than me.

"It's fine, just keep driving." He waved his hand at the open road in front of me.

"I just stole your car and now you're giving me driving tips?" I asked, suspicion thick in my voice. I wouldn't let myself believe that this was nothing more than a trick.

He extended a fingerless-gloved hand to me that I ignored. "Jonny Raymond."

"I'm not giving you my name," I said guardedly.

"I don't need your name to report you for a stolen vehicle in progress." Jonny's lips spread into a huge grin, but the threat was very real.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "Jess Clarke."

"Jess," Jonny repeated. "Pretty name." His eyes swept over me. I was used to getting attention from guys, I just wasn't used to them doing it so blatantly.

I waited for more, but he said nothing. We sat in silence for a few awkward beats before he spoke again.

"So do you steal cars for kicks, or do you just really suck at being homeless?" Jonny smiled at me slyly.

My irritation flared. "First of all, I'm not homeless. You're the one parking your car in the shadiest part of town. You're basically asking for it to get stolen. And secondly, you don't know me."

"We can change that," he taunted.

"Not a chance."

Jonny studied me. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"What?" A deep blush rose to my cheeks. It felt like Jonny could see right through me.

He leaned forward, and I could smell alcohol on his breath. It made me want to vomit. "You're one of those girls that is all attitude and fire. I'm guessing you're probably a runaway, you haven't been to jail yet. But you have some difficulty with authority figures, along with a history of violence and kleptocracy. Am I wrong?"

I glowered through the windshield and jutted out my chin stubbornly. The heat of my anger gave me the strong impulse to hit him.

"That's what I thought," he said smugly.

"You don't know anything about me," I shot back. I wanted to get away from him, but there was something oddly compelling and dangerous about Jonny that kept me glued to the seat. Maybe it was because he seemed so bad for me. But Jonny was also the first person who seemed to understand me without having to say it; I wanted to keep talking to him.

Jonny smirked. "Hey, I'm not judging you. I like a rebel streak in a woman."

"I'll bet," I muttered dryly. Jonny was arrogant and obnoxious, and the last person who I should be attracted to. He was the kind of guy who thought he could get anything he wanted with his charm and good looks, yet I couldn't seem to force myself to leave. And it wasn't because I was in a moving car.

"I myself like to do street art from time to time," he continued. "Cops aren't big fans of guys like me tainting their precious city with murals. We rebels have to stick together. Though most of them sport mullets and reek of pot. But when a beautiful woman breaks the rules…mmm." He tilted his head to the side and blew out a breath through his lips. "Dead sexy."

I gritted my teeth and glared at him. "I'm nothing like you."

His eyes gleamed playfully. "Why don't we settle this over drinks?"

I whipped my head towards him. "What?"

I was so caught off guard by his question that I wasn't paying attention to the road and nearly collided into another car as I swerved into the next lane, tires squealing against the gravely street.

Jonny's eyes widened in alarm. "Hey, eyes on the road!"

I spun the steering wheel around and turned sharply back into the lane. In my panic, my foot stomped on the gas, accelerating far too quickly, blowing through the red light ahead without stopping. I felt unsteady and panicked, pissed that Jonny pretended to know me. I gripped the steering wheel, waiting for my breathing to slow.

"I am not having drinks with you," I responded guardedly. "You could be a pervert or some ax murderer."

Jonny smiled in that annoying, lazy smile of his. "I might be a pervert, but you are definitely a car thief."

I rolled my eyes. "I said I was sorry, okay?"

"You didn't, actually." His face broke out into a huge grin. "I knew you were trouble from the first moment I saw you."

"You think I'm trouble?" I said in disbelief. "Your so called graffiti hobby is just an act you use to get girls."

Jonny laughed, a rich and melodic laugh, like warm caramel. "Street art isn't all about vandalism. It's a form of expression. You might like it."

"Doubtful," I replied curtly.

The corners of his lips turned up into a devious smirk. "That's a shame. Some girls find it a turn on."

"I'm not other girls."

"I know," he murmured. "That's why I like you."

I clenched my teeth together. Jonny was trying to push my buttons, and he knew I was close to exploding. "Sorry, I'm not into older guys."

He chuckled. "Then why don't I believe you?"

Suddenly, a siren wailed behind us, and red and blue lights flashed across the dashboard. I looked in the review mirror and froze. Sure enough, a police car was following us. My heart sped up and my throat felt tight. I was trapped.

"Shit," I hissed. If I hadn't been gripping the steering wheel so tightly, Jonny would have seen how badly my hands were shaking.

Jonny groaned and dropped his face in his hand, covering his eyes. "That's why I said eyes on the road."

I abruptly pulled over to the side of the road as the police car slowed behind us. My heart thudded hyperactively with fear. Cops made me nervous. I had a reputation of being difficult with authority figures, and it didn't help that my dad was also a highly respected detective in the entire Ohio state. If any of the police officers in Oregon recognized me as Detective Clarke's daughter, they'd send me on the first plane back to Fairfield.

"Screwdriver." Jonny quickly climbed into the front seat next to me.

I took out the screwdriver from the ignition and exchanged it for the car key that Jonny handed to me. Within seconds, a dark-skinned man in a police uniform approached the driver's side window of the van. He had short brown hair and a tall, but burly build. His gold badge said J, POLICE OFFICER OR.

"Are you aware that you were driving fifteen miles over the speed limit?" the officer asked.

I cringed. "Um, sorry. It won't happen again."

The cop shined his flashlight inside the van, moving it over our faces, and panned it across the floor before focusing his attention back to me. "License and registration please."

"Well, funny story–"

Jonny leaned over the window and gave him an easy smile. "I'm terribly sorry, officer, but this is actually my car. I'm trying to teach my girlfriend how to drive a stick."

The cop glanced towards the sea of traffic, where I had nearly made scrap metal out of a shiny maroon-colored Cadillac only minutes ago, then turned back to Jonny. "She has a lot to learn." Suspicion tinged heavily in his voice.

"Yeah, but you know how women are," Jonny said cheerfully, laying on the same charm he'd used on me.

I narrowed my eyes and fixed him with an evil glare.

The cop stared at Jonny for a few, long torturous seconds before speaking again. "Alright, I'll let you off with just a warning. But drive more carefully next time."

Jonny nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

After the cop walked back to his car, I rolled up the window and looked at Jonny. "What were you, Hermes in a past life?"

"You're welcome," he said, his tone annoyed.

I pursed my lips tautly. "I didn't ask for your help."

"But you needed me."

I let out a long sigh. "Thank you."

Jonny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Did Jess Clarke just say thank you?" The same wicked amusement played in his eyes.

"Don't get used to it, jerk," I retorted.

"Thief," he shot back.

"Delinquent."

"Bitch."

I smiled. Arguing with Jonny was surprisingly fun, more so than I was willing to admit. And it felt good not having to pretend to be someone else for once; he understood what it was like to be alone and on the run from the law.

Jonny's face turned more serious. "As much as I'd like to continue this witty banter thing we have going on, we need to leave now. We got lucky."

I paused. "We?" When he didn't answer, it suddenly dawned on me. "This isn't your car either, is it?"

He looked back at me innocently. "Huh?"

I stared at him. "I stole a stolen car?"

Jonny smiled and nodded towards the ongoing traffic. "How about that drink?"

I had been skeptical of Jonny at first, but after having a couple of beers with him at the pub, I was hooked. We talked for hours, even after the pub closed and the sky changed to a darker hue of black around us. I told him about my mom and my love for art, and Jonny described what it was like living in Italy and exploring the world with his art, experimenting with different kinds of food and garbage for his sculptures. After that, I lived with Jonny in his van, living off of the food we stole from convenience stores and selling paintings to people from the street that Jonny made.

Jonny obviously knew about Spencer before coming to Rosewood when he was really looking for me. Jonny blamed me for getting arrested by the police for some paintings that he'd stolen, going to whatever lengths necessary to get his revenge. And Spencer was the key to do just that. But could he have really used her just to get to me, or was it something more diabolical than that? Maybe Jonny had secretly been working with A all along.

A cold, disturbing feeling crept over me. It made perfect sense. Charles could have made a deal with Jonny to tell him all of the girls' dirty secrets in exchange for my location. And since Jonny was hunting me down, he'd been more than happy to oblige. It was all my fault–I'd opened up to Jonny about my friendship with Alison, months before my dad had dragged me back to Ohio. I was the reason A knew so much about Ali and her friends. The only way he could've known to come to Rosewood at precisely the right time that Ali had gotten arrested for 'killing' Mona was if A told him. It would also explain why Jonny had pushed Spencer to vandalize the outside roof of Hollis College in the middle of the night with him. He might have been planning to make Spencer trust him, break down her walls the same way he did with me. When she finally did, he told the police about the mural. And since Spencer already had a record of being a suspect for murder, the rest would just fall into place. Jonny was the one who kept Spencer distracted while her boyfriend, Toby Cavanaugh, had to work late shifts at the police station. It was also Jonny who persuaded Spencer to steal the paintings from that art gallery, convincing her that they were his. And the anonymous tip to the police about the gallery break-in couldn't have been a coincidence. Only somebody like Jonny could do that and get away with it. He had broken into jewelry stores and art galleries so easily, almost like it was no big deal.

Sweat began to gather at the back of my neck and my skin turned ice-cold. What if Jonny was doing Charles' bidding…and was really planning to kill me instead? My knees buckled. It was never going to end, was it?

I blinked away the tears that came to my eyes, and my stomach knotted. I felt so lost and alone. I didn't know what was real anymore and what wasn't.

Just then, the bushes across from Ali rustled. I held my breath.

"Okay, Jess, now," Payton hissed. His arm tensed as he pulled back the bow, getting ready to free the arrow.

Alison crawled up closer from behind the bushes, her hand clenched over a shiny, sharp blade. Shivers crawled up my back like spiders at seeing her with a knife; Alison had never been comfortable with weapons.

My fingers tightened over the dagger. Then I let out a loud, piercing scream that tore from my throat. My limbs ached to move, but I knew if I did, we'd have no way of catching Jonny and we'd lose our chance. The bushes began to shake, growing more and more frantic.

After a few seconds, the trees parted. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, I found myself looking into a pair of piercing blue eyes. Jonny stood directly in the path, a smug smile on his face. He was dressed in a casual button-down shirt and jeans, but he had on a cropped jean jacket-hoodie to conceal his eyes. Anger boiled through me as I looked over his prominent cheekbones and messy dark brown hair, remembering the way he had used me, and now Spencer.

"Hello, Jess," he sneered gleefully.

"Jonny." I could barely form the words; my mouth had turned dry.

Suddenly, all of my fears came rolling back in. Panic shot through me like a hurricane, hitting me with its full force. I fought back the temptation to glance over at Payton hiding behind the tree.

Jonny smiled, but it wasn't pleasant. "I knew you couldn't stay hidden for long."

Nerves rippled through my stomach. "Cut the crap, Jonny, and tell me what you're really doing here."

Jonny caught my gaze and slowly closed the short distance between us until his face was just inches from mine. He leaned in to whisper in my ear, his hot breath brushing against my cheek. It smelled like he'd been drinking.

"I know your friends are the ones who left me that message," he said in a low, gruff voice. "And if you know what's best for you, you'll hand over my journal."

I swallowed hard and the muscles in my stomach tightened, feeling as though my entire body was on fire. I knew instantly what journal Jonny was talking about–the one recording everything I was doing when he had been stalking me for his N.A.T. Club activities. The last time I'd seen it was after I had stolen it from him to turn him into the police for what he'd done. The only other person who could've had it was CeCe, and if she had it, that had to mean she was planning something big against him. And there was no way I was giving up that information. All I could do was stand there, helpless and weak.

"You had to know I would follow you here," Jonny continued. My nose pressed into the fabric of his jacket as he crushed me against him. Disgust filled my mouth with bile and my stomach turned over.

"I don't have it," I insisted.

I tried jerking away from him, but Jonny grabbed me roughly by the shoulders, his eyes blazing and intense. "Don't lie to me!"

"Don't touch me!" I shoved him forcefully off of me.

The blade of the dagger pressed into my palm, and a searing pain split into my skin. I could smell blood as the dark liquid dripped down my hand and onto the ground. I tried to keep my composure, afraid Jonny would see the knife.

Jonny smiled, like this was supposed to be funny. "I'm not leaving until I get that journal. You're just as guilty as I am."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not the one who's wanted for theft and assault," I said in the strongest voice I could find. "Stay away from me! And stay away from Spencer."

Jonny cackled. "You mean that slut? She was just a means to an end."

I blinked at him in disbelief. But as he reached for my arm, a green arrow flew through the air with lightening speed towards Jonny, cutting across his hand.

Jonny flinched from the impact and sprung away from me. Payton moved out of the shadows with the bow and arrow still clutched in his hand as a weapon, bowstring pulled back and ready to aim. Jonny stared at him with wide, stunned eyes.

"Touch her again, and the next one goes for your eye!" Payton threatened.

But Jonny just smirked. "What are you going to do? Shoot me?"

Payton's hold on the bow tightened. "I could have the Rosewood PD here in three minutes."

"In half that time, I will already be gone," Jonny challenged.

Payton quickly pulled back the bowstring and a glowing green tranquilizer arrow raced at Jonny, the sharp arrowhead penetrating his flesh and piercing his leg. Jonny fell backward with a strangled cry. Blood spewed out from the cut where Payton had just shot him.

"Alison!" Payton shouted. "Now!"

Using the blow as a distraction, Ali jumped out from behind the bushes and grabbed Jonny's wrists, twisting his arms behind his back and pinning them there while she tied his hands with a piece of thick rope. But then Jonny recoiled, making Ali stumble back, and drove his elbow into her face. She fell to the ground, her body landing limp on a patch of moss and leaves. Blood gushed out from her forehead of the wound.

Murderous anger emerged in Payton's eyes. He lunged towards Jonny, using the strength of his recurve bow to smack him hard in the ribs, then countered a violent kick to his gut. Payton slammed him into one of the trees and grabbed another tranquilizer arrow, stabbing him in the stomach. Jonny screamed in horrified pain.

Ali lifted her head slightly. "Payton?" she said weakly.

"I got it," Payton assured her, tying the rope around Jonny's middle in a tight knot.

Jonny sat slumped against the tree, eyes closed, looking disoriented. A streak of light cut across the bark of the trees. I turned in the direction of where it was coming from and gasped.

A dark figure cloaked underneath a hoodie walked slowly towards me in a predatory gait, knife in hand. From his broad shoulders and big hands, it wasn't hard to distinguish that this A serving as one of Charles' minions was a guy. He was stressed strictly in black, even his black boots, and had a truly menacing vibe.

Payton saw him, too, and yelled to me. "Jess, run!"

My eyes darted back to Ali's limp body on the ground. "Not without Ali!"

"I'll take care of her. Go!"

I watched Payton make his way over to Ali, tending to her, before racing out through the trees. The only thing I paid attention to was the dark forest in front of me and the ground beneath my feet as I ran. I could hear the Aminion just behind me, his footsteps pounding against the ground. I couldn't see much in the dark, and I had to hurry back to my car.

I made a sharp turn through one of the forest trails and raced down the path, jumping over a fallen tree in the process. The trail was a three-mile loop that wound behind Charles' old mansion. If I cut across from the east side of the house, I could outrun A and make it to my car just in time to make a quick getaway.

My feet sank into the softer pockets of fallen leaves, but I kept running. As I neared the mansion, I stumbled down a small hill, but caught onto a vine that was twisted loosely around the bark of a thick, tall tree, keeping my balance.

I could see my car now, the red paint gleaming against the pale moonlight a few feet away from where I stood. I flew past the ivy-covered mansion and carried my feet as fast as I could towards the familiar red Honda Civic. Once I made it there, I threw myself into the front seat and jammed my key into the ignition, and sped off into the empty road, my heart racing.

I didn't satisfy the temptation to look back over my shoulder, too terrified to see what I would find if I did. With any luck, I would be out of Rosewood before Charles would even notice I was gone.

I'd done what I came to do. It was over.

I almost made it to the dark streets before passing by the tree-lined road of Alison's house, across the street from the Cavanaugh's and next door to Spencer's two-story colonial Georgian home. As I drove past the Victorian house, I looked up towards one of the bedroom windows.

I saw him there briefly, his buttery blonde hair shining in the glass window. I stared at the planes of his face, at his perfect full, pink lips, his vividly deep blue eyes, and his golden tousled hair. I could only gaze for so long before tears filled my eyes. I didn't think I could bring myself to say goodbye to Jason, and so I drove directly to the end of town heading toward my next destination: Maine.

Get over it, I told myself, trying not to cry. And besides, now that I knew Jonny would soon be behind bars, I knew Ali was safe. I could finally get some sleep tonight.

I caught movement on the side of the country road and noticed something–or someone–moving within the shadows of the trees. I squinted and turned on the beam of my headlights, but there was nothing there. All I could see was darkness within the edge of the gloomy forest.

It's just your imagination.

As I chided myself for being so stupid and paranoid, a wolf appeared in the middle of the road.

With a gasp, I quickly twisted the wheel and stomped on the brake. The wheels screeched against the pavement, spinning out of control. Then I heard a giant thud as the car skidded to the side of the road and crashed headfirst into a big blue sign that said, YOU'RE NOW LEAVING THE CITY OF ROSEWOOD. It whipped me to the side, jerking my head hard against the glass of the car window with a painful bang. Slowly, the numbness subsided, replacing it with an aching, dizziness in my head.

The last thing I saw before collapsing into unconsciousness was the wolf, staring at me with impossibly beautiful golden yellow eyes, his white fur as dazzling as snow. He stood as still as a statue, unblinking, casually watching me. Those eyes flecked brilliantly and intelligently with every shade of gold and hazel, reminding me of the golden woods in Maryland where Ali and I used to go

And then the world faded to black.

Spencer

That Tuesday night, after picking up some food for the loft, I pulled up to the side of my parent's gated private drive. The sun had sunk behind the clouds, darkening the sky with an eerie gloom. With Toby in Harrisburg for the next few days, I wanted to be able to have all the proper ingredients to cook for myself while he was away, including saltine crackers for my morning sickness.

As I grabbed my oversize brown leather purse and stepped out of the car, I noticed that someone was walking up to the front of the DiLaurentis' house. The porch light cast a yellow glow across a dark figure, revealing it to be Mona. She was carrying something white and square in her hand. She opened up the mailbox at the end of Alison's yard, slid in the envelope, and carefully closed it again. Frowning, I walked down the gravel drive, wondering what Mona was doing.

"Mona?" I called into the dark. "Is that you?"

"Hi." Mona shoved her hands into the pockets of her black trench coat and smiled.

"Hi," I said back. "What are you doing?"

"It's a card for Alison," Mona admitted. "I know it's totally retro, but emails can be deleted and she would never take my calls, so…" She crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at the ground awkwardly.

I nodded in understanding, remembering what Hanna had said at school about Mona being afraid of Alison. After the faked murder incident, the cops had been questioning Mona intensely, pressing her for information about why she would try to frame her death on Ali. But since she had been committed to Radley Sanitarium and was one of A's victims that had been tortured in the creepy Dollhouse, the police and the DA investigating the case decided to give her immunity for arrest.

"You look great, Spencer," Mona complimented. "Much better than the last time I saw you."

I cocked my head. "I was on a hospital gurney."

"Yeah, me too, but you looked more graceful being rolled." Mona gave me a playful smile.

My cheeks warmed, flattered. I inspected Mona for a second, thinking about my dream from the other night.

"Mona," I started, "can I ask you something?"

She nodded, a sincere expression on her face.

"You were in that Dollhouse longer than any of us," I went on. "So do you think that it's possible, or could there be a chance, that there was another girl that was trapped down there? Not Sara Harvey, but a–a younger girl, maybe eleven or twelve."

"Why are you asking me this?" Mona asked.

"I–I–I have this image in my head of a young girl," I stammered. "She looks a lot like a young Alison and she's guiding me towards this creepy room with these rusted bathtubs."

Mona looked at me gently. "I think that everyone that was trapped in that place escaped, Spencer."

"Okay, but what about that room?" I asked frantically. "Have you ever seen it? It's got a couple of drains on the floor and the walls are tiled, there's broken furniture everywhere, and God knows what horrible things happened down there."

"No. I haven't seen it, but it sounds terrifying."

"It is," I said ruefully. "Maybe it doesn't exist. I just…I felt like I had been in there before."

"I think it must live in your head," Mona offered.

I pressed my lips together grimly. "Right." But a smidge of uneasiness passed through me, something I couldn't shake.

After a beat, my eyes flickered back to Mona. "Goodnight."

Mona nodded. "Goodnight," she repeated.

I turned back towards the drive, despite my nerves and confusion, and pushed through the back gate. I slipped inside the back yard, hoping the cloak of darkness would be enough to conceal me away from my mother. Not shortly after I'd left the grocery store did I realize that I'd left my laptop inside the family's barn-renovated loft. And there was no way I was talking to my mom after our conversation this morning.

I trudged onto the dewy grass. It was so dark outside that I could barely see my feet below me. I tried counting the number of footsteps to the barn to calm my nerves, when my foot hit against something hard.

Then I looked down. Something shiny lay nestled in the grass in between the border that separated my house from Ali's, partially covered by some dirt as though someone had tried to bury it. I reached down and picked up a silver palm-sized video camera. It was scratched up and battered from use. I turned it over, and a small green light came on, indicating there was still some battery left. I pressed the ON button and the camera flickered to life.

Immediately, a clip opened onto the small screen with a fumbling shot of an unfamiliar dock stretching over a deep blue lake. "Ali, what are you doing with my camera?" a boy's voice said offscreen. The handheld camera panned to a boy with honey-blonde hair and honest blue eyes. He was wearing only red swimming trunks, exposing his naked chest and the muscles in his stomach.

"I'm making a movie," I heard Ali say teasingly. A strange sensation slithered down my spine. From the looks of it, it seemed the two of them were old friends. But then why didn't Ali tell me or the other girls about him?

The camera swung to an attractive brunette with flawless olive-colored skin, who had on a turquoise bikini. Her long dark hair fell down her shoulders prettily, and the corners of her bow-shaped lips were turned up slightly in amusement. She met the camera with brown doe eyes. "Seriously, Ali, put it down." The fair-haired boy was looking at the girl longingly as she spoke, and I wondered if she noticed.

"Make me!" Ali giggled. The camera remained fixed on the girl. She moved closer into the frame, grinning, while she chased Ali around the lake. Then the picture went momentarily fuzzy. When the image reappeared back on the screen, the camera was tilted over, fallen on the ground. I could still see a sideways shot of a younger-looking Ali and the girl running along the length of the sand surrounding the water.

The camera showed the boy's hands reaching down and picking up the camera, chasing after them.

"Jess!" Ali cried. Her face appeared on-screen again and the girl known as, Jess, had her arms around Ali's waist in a playful fight.

Jess squealed as Ali squirmed away, staggering backwards slightly, the both of them looking alive and carefree. The clip ended.

My stomach swirled. We all knew Ali liked keeping secrets, but I didn't imagine it as anything like this. How could Ali have another life that we didn't even know about? What else was she hiding?

Without thinking about it, I palmed the digital camera and slipped it inside my bag. When I reached the barn, I was relieved to find that all the windows were darkened and empty. No one was inside. I quietly pushed open the door, sneaking in.

My silver laptop was on the kitchen island where I had last left it, gleaming from the small light of the moon outside. I hurried up to the computer and grabbed it. Then I turned for the door and tiptoed across the lawn, making sure no one saw me as I ran back to my car.

When I got to the loft, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them into all the kitchen's overhead cabinets. The place was silent. That's when something red caught my eye. On the grey marble-topped counter was a tall purple vase filled with over a dozen, long-stemmed red roses. Nestled in between two of the roses was a small envelope with my name written across the front. Smiling, I opened it and read the card. I read Toby's familiar handwriting:

I'll miss you every second while I'm gone. I love you.

I pressed my nose to the roses, inhaling the lovely, floral scent. My eyes started to grow heavy sleepily and I thought of heading to bed, but then I remembered Toby wouldn't be there with me, and agony ripped through me once again. The first night we were living together and he wasn't going to be here.

I dragged myself up the flight of stairs miserably to Toby's–now our–bedroom. I put my bag away in the closet and looked around. All my books were arranged by subject on the shelves, photos of Toby and I hung on the walls, my lavender-lined velvet jewelry box now sat on top of the dresser along with a glass vase of lovely blue hydrangeas, and my desk was pushed up against the wall by the window. I stared at the neatly made bed and noticed my favorite pale pink flowery sheets were folded underneath the thick creamy toile duvet comforter from my old bedroom, and the pillows were fluffed and toppled over one another symmetrically. The rest of my stuff was in boxes, still packed up and ready to be put away. I needed everything organized, but I was too tired to move.

I changed into one of Toby's oversize T-shirts and blue plaid boxers and flipped off the light. When I collapsed against the soft pillows with a sigh, I felt something velvet and soft lying beneath me. I sat up, noting a long red blanket was laid out on my side of the bed. The words Toby C were stitched in the upper right corner. Realizing Toby must have left it for me to sleep in, my heart lifted.

Throughout the night, the constant wave of nausea clenching my stomach and the burning in my throat wouldn't let me sleep. I found myself lurching over the toilet in the middle of the night several times, heaving and gaging, until the pain finally stopped. The bed felt so big and empty without Toby. I pulled the velvet blanket over my head, but it didn't stop my hormones from keeping me up.

My body felt hot and buzzy, like I was on vibrate for something. And I was so dry, it felt as though my skin was being stretched out from the lack of intimacy. I needed some loving from Toby. I needed it.

I touched the black and white floral covers, remembering when Toby and I had made love for the very first time in them. I recalled the way his skin had felt on mine the first time that we touched, sinning together in these very sheets. His lips caressing every inch of my skin before he gently melted into me.

Closing my eyes, I pulled my knees up without any control of my own, spreading my legs far apart. Then I slid my hand inside the boxers and pushed my fingers gently inside. My lips parted as I pictured what Toby would do to me, how he would touch me…

I moaned. "Oh, Toby."

I reached in further and worked faster, harder. When I dug in deeper, I slipped Toby's boxers off my thighs, panting heavily. It felt so good, but I wanted his lips there. I wanted Toby to taste me.

I lifted up my shirt and moved my hands up to my bare breasts, touching them the way Toby would. Moaning, I cupped my breasts and began to stroke them in my hands, rubbing and groping them excitedly.

My pelvis throbbed intensely. I needed Toby so badly.

I inserted both fingers back inside me and thrusted my hips rapidly like a dog in heat, writhing against the bed in pleasure. "Toby!" I screamed. "Tobbbbyyyyyy!"

I was so turned on that I could feel myself growing wet. I pulled my fingers out and trailed my hand over my pelvis, slowly groping it. "Toby, please!" I cried.

I pushed my fingers back in again, jerking hard. I groaned and moved faster against the bed, imagining Toby was on top of me and spreading me with the length of him, loving me. How satisfying he would feel inside me. My hips jerked forward wildly, caught up in the pleasure.

"Oh, god!" I moved my fingers in further, growing wetter as I pushed and thrusted in steady strokes.

"I want you so much," I moaned.

Oh, I needed him. I grunted his name in satisfaction until I exploded into the most wonderful orgasm, and then felt the familiar sweet release.

In the morning when I awoke, I padded down to the kitchen for some comfort food, surprised by how hungry I was. I searched the fridge for the ingredients of scrambled eggs and cooked them in a pan on the stove. It smelled so good that I started eating it right out of the pan before they were even done. It burned my tongue and fingers, but I was too hungry to care. By the time it was cool enough for me to eat, I scarfed it down within mere minutes and swallowed it down with some cherry tart juice to calm my anxiety.

When I picked up Hanna to break into Radley like we'd planned yesterday, she was unusually quiet. I assumed it had something to do with Caleb, but I didn't press her. Mona was also supposed to meet us there and help us find the room where Radley kept records of their previous patients so we could find out what really happened to Charles.

I drove along a wide, back road a few miles outside of Rosewood and made a left turn. I pulled up to Radley Sanitarium from the back, a four-story high massive old stone building with overgrown ivy twisting along the long, rectangular windows. A gothic, wrought iron security gate enclosed the front entrances of the building, and signs on the bars announced the mental hospital was off limits. Radley was built in 1897 as an orphanage, but eventually they converted it into a safe haven for teenagers and young children. I scoffed at the irony. Radley was anything but safe, just a bunch of lunatics like me who couldn't handle the real world.

Since all the entrances in the front were blocked, Hanna and I had to pick the lock on the back door to get in. There was no sign of Mona anywhere, and my nausea started to roll in thunderously from nerves.

The inside was cold and smelled of wet, pungent mold and rotting meat. After being admitted into Radley Sanitarium for my depression, I was once again reminded of how much I hated this place and the pain I'd suffered over losing Toby.

A long, dark hallway stretched in front of us covered in spiderwebs, and the only sound was an annoying dripping sound coming from the pipes. Hanna and I beamed our flashlights along the walls as we walked down the dank basement, stopping at each door to jiggle the knobs, but every one of them was locked. Red paint was painted on the stone-brick walls with the name, CARISSIMI GROUP.

"We're not leaving here until we find something about Charles," I insisted fiercely.

Hanna scrunched up her nose. "God, what did they keep down here? Or should I say who?"

We rounded the corner and stopped in front of a faded grey wooden door, where the paint was peeling off. Hanna tried turning the brass handle, but it wouldn't budge.

"Patient records," I informed her. "Only the staff was allowed in the basement, not us."

"I guarantee Mona's been down here," Hanna added.

"Yeah, where is she?" I asked curiously. "I thought she was supposed to be our tour guide." I roamed my flashlight over several doors lining the walls.

"She wanted to come, but her mom's attached at the hip," she explained. "They, like, shower together."

I rolled my eyes. A large portrait of color caught my eye and I froze. Hanging from the wall was a framed painting of a young girl sitting at a school desk with a huge grin on her face, and she was holding a pencil in her hand. She looked young, maybe eleven or twelve, and her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. As I looked closer, a sense of déjà vu washed over me. I remembered my nightmare with the dancing girl in the bathroom.

I stared at the portrait in stunned silence, struck with the memory of the girl's face. It was so clear now. What if she was the person that I had hurt at the Dollhouse? I felt sickened from the thought.

"God, why are all these doors locked?" I heard Hanna say, but I couldn't answer. I couldn't even force myself to move.

Hanna came to an abrupt halt beside me in front of the painting when she noticed my stiff composure. "Spence, what's wrong?" Her eyes glanced between me and the painting.

I shook my head slowly. "Nothing."

I looked at the walls of doors to the left and right, trying to distract myself from the memory. After my dream, there was no doubt that I would have nightmares.

Hanna glanced down the hall. A small strip of faded light shone from underneath an opened door. "Wait, that door's open."

Tentatively, I followed her through the metal door. The room was small and dark, with a mess of broken furniture, shelves with crammed appliances, folders, and file boxes.

I stepped in further and shone my flashlight across the room. More images of my dream flashed across my mind. The little girl dancing…the rusted bath tubs…

My heart pounded. That memory. I instantly knew I had been here before, during my time at Radley.

"That's how I know this place," I realized.

Hanna turned to me. "What?"

"It was in Radley, not the Dollhouse. I've been here before."

Hanna walked to the filing boxes on the shelf and started digging through them, looking for Charles' patient file.

"I know this room," I continued.

"Well, then why am I the only one doing anything?" Hanna snapped. She yanked at one of the boxes to pull it down. "Can you help me? This is heavy."

Something on the shelf shifted, and a white ceramic kidney dish and bed pan toppled to the floor with a clang.

Hanna glared at me accusingly. "Thanks." Sarcasm dripped in her voice.

I looked at her blankly and threw my hands up, lost.

She let out a long sigh. "Forget it."

I reached up to pull a filing box off from the shelf and set it down on a nearby creaky old table. We were all alone, with no one coming down to bother us. Manila folders containing papers inside revealed patient files from Radley, dating all the way back to the 80s. The building was abandoned, and if the files were alphabetized, it would be easy finding Charles'.

I thumbed through the tabs on the folders, looking for the ones labeled within the Ds. As I reached the Cs, my eyes caught the name, "Clarke, Jess." The image from the video I'd seen of the girl fluttered through my mind. The folder was about an inch thick.

I held the file in my hands for a moment. Did I really need to open it? Did I really need to know?

I bit my lip. But what if this girl had something to do with A? The temptation was too great to resist, so I opened the file.

The first few pages were just basic documents of her health records, but nothing in particular stood out. But after flipping through the next few pages, something strange appeared in one of the records. Someone named William Clarke had filed a restraining order against a man for supposedly harassing his daughter, but there was no mention of Jess stating anywhere in the file that the stranger had indeed been stalking her. And, last but not least, the patient info form said William's DNA, Jess' father, didn't match his daughter's. Jess was written as a B positive, while William was an O negative.

I looked over the names in the court record and my jaw dropped to the floor. How was that possible? I double-checked it three times just to make sure.

Hanna threw a packet of papers aside, frustrated. "Un-friggin'-believable. Radley has files on patients who've been dead since the Stone Age, but nothing from six stupid years ago?"

But I barely heard her. I fumbled for Jess' birth certificate and pulled it out on top, reading the information in the record describing the biological parents. Only the mother had signed for the father's signature. My eyes fell on one singular name: Gabriel Holbrook.

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. Gabriel Holbrook? The detective from the Pennsylvania State Police who was investigating Bethany Young's murder before he had gotten suspended. What the hell?

Slowly, I put more of the pieces together. The DNA on Jess' patient info form didn't match the one from her dad, and Detective Holbrook had mysteriously left town a month after Alison's arrest. And all of us wondered if there was something Holbrook was hiding. There was more to the story. Maybe this was his big secret–that Jess was his daughter. Ali must have found out somehow and used it against him, so he agreed to help botch the investigation of Bethany Young's murder to clear her name.

While Hanna continued to rummage through the box of files, I discreetly slid the folder underneath the array of scattered papers on the table. I wasn't ready to show it to her yet.

I went back to the box I was working on and searched for the file folders marked in the Ds, stopping when I found one called, C. DiLaurentis.

"Stop," I told Hanna, pulling out the file. "I found it. C. DiLaurentis. I got it."

I opened the folder and paged through the documents. Then I spied a work order form dated from six years ago, explaining an incident involving the death of one of their patients…Charles DiLaurentis. I stood motionless for a few seconds. Radley had sent the funds to a company called the Carassimi Group. According to the form, a courier had been asked to deliver Charles' organs to a local hospital for donation.

"What's it say?" Hanna asked. When I didn't answer, she pressed for more. "Spencer, talk to me. Is he dead or not?"

"Yeah, he's dead," I finally said.

Hanna leaned over the page. "What am I looking at?"

"It's a work order. The courier who transported his organs."

She narrowed her eyes. "So what? That doesn't mean squat."

My voice rose up a couple pitches. "Hanna, you can't donate your heart, liver, and both kidneys and still play Boggle in the Radley rec room, he's dead." My fingers flipped through the pages, trying to look for any valuable information that could tell us who Charles was in contact with, but the only thing I could find were past medical files about his mental condition.

"Well, someone is pretending to be him, so who is it?" Hanna demanded. "Who is Charles?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "This is just a bunch of medical files."

Hanna clomped over to a metal hospital cart filled with stacks of more filing boxes and dug through them. A second later, I heard a splashing sound coming from one of the bath tubs. I spun around and saw a folder of files floating around in the murky, stagnated water that had tipped over from the cart.

"What are you doing?" I yelled.

Hanna wordlessly walked around to the end of the tub and let out a loud gasp. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

I looked over, and suddenly, I gasped too. The outline of a human kneecap loomed from underneath the water.

"Oh my god," Hanna whispered. "Is that a kneecap?"

"Don't touch it," I warned, my heart thudding hyperactively.

"Why would I touch it?" she cried.

I glanced towards the door and spotted a long silver pole with two small hooks at the end, and ran to grab it.

"Spencer, where are you going?" Hanna shrieked. "If you leave me along here, I–"

"Just shut up," I said. "I'm just getting something to fish it out."

"Fish it out? I don't wanna see what it's connected to." Her eyes turned glassy with tears.

I held the pole by the handle and carefully dipped it into the dark water, feeling around for whatever was lying at the bottom. Up close, the odor of mold and bacteria swirling around filled my nose. A painful ache twisted in my stomach from the awful scent, and I was overcome with the sudden urge to vomit.

"Spencer," Hanna pleaded. "Spencer, stop. Please stop."

Just then, a life-like doll's face bobbed up to the surface. Its eyes were closed and their opened, plastic mouth had been washed away of color, giving the practice dummy's lips a pinkish-purple look. A scream tore out of Hanna's throat.

"Oh my god, breathe," I assured her irritably. "Breathe, it's a doll."

Hanna's hand flew to her throat, alarmed. "What?"

My irritation flared. "It's a Resusci Anne."

"Well, w–w–what–what is that?" Hanna stammered. "Like a–a blowup thingy?"

"No, you blow into it," I replied. "They use it to teach CPR."

Hanna put a hand to her forehead, breathing heavily. A hard, pounding sound reverberated throughout the building, making both of us jump. It sounded like a wild animal was making its way into one of the vents.

"What was that?" Fear flickered in Hanna's eyes, as if whatever animal had made its home here would jump out at any moment.

"It's probably something you woke out of hibernation with your screaming," I remarked flatly.

I held my breath as I pulled out the drenched papers from the water, trying my hardest not to breathe in the strong smell. I brought them over to the table and continued to search through the documents, scanning for the names of anyone who might have known Charles. Maybe at Radley, where he'd been treated. Someone could have met him while they were admitted and bonded instantly with him. And maybe that someone knew what Charles was planning, or who was really behind torturing us in the Dollhouse.

"Spencer, come on," Hanna urged. "Like, could we just go? I don't need any more proof he's dead."

I gave her a long, hard look. "We knew that already, but we don't know who Charles was close to, who he hung out with."

"We're never gonna know that," she exclaimed. "Radley doesn't put out a yearbook. Let's go."

Just then, a rattling sound whined from somewhere nearby, followed by a loud crash, like glass shattering. Like someone was trying to break in.

"Okay, that was definitely not an animal," Hanna said nervously, and turned for the door. "I'm leaving here now."

I grabbed Jess and Charles' file folders and ran after her down the hall. Hanna and I hurried down the hallway, but then we heard the rattling noise again, louder this time. We froze dead in our tracks, and I held my breath. Suddenly, the noise stopped.

Hanna and I exchanged terrified glances with each other, then she took the folders out from under my arm while I reached for a metal arm crutch that stood up against the red-brick wall. I snuck in behind her and pointed the thicker part of the crutch in my hand, ready to fight whoever was inside. Slowly, Hanna swung open the door to the basement's supply room. A figure emerged in the dark room, jumping back at the sound of the door creaking open. When I saw Mona's face, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, instantly feeling dizzy.

Mona hugged a thick manila file folder against her chest, and her honey-brown eyes widened in fright. Behind her, several broken hospital wheelchairs toppled over one another.

"What the hell, Mona?" Hanna yelled.

"Have you been down here the whole time?" I asked at the same time. "Was that you?"

Mona's eyes flickered to the floor guiltily, confirming my suspicions.

"Answer us!" I said in a louder, stronger voice.

"Just let me go," Mona pleaded. "Please, I'll explain later.

"No, you're gonna explain right now." I put down the crutch and snagged the folder out of her hands.

"Why were you following us?" Hanna demanded.

"She didn't want us to find this," I said, opening up the file.

"Just give it back to me, okay?" Mona's voice grew urgent. "This doesn't have anything to do with you guys."

I looked through the documents. Most of them were files of medical records with a bunch of scribbled doctor's notes.

"Why were you stealing your file, Mona?" Hanna asked her.

I stopped at a page of a patient form for Radley, and my heart dropped to my feet. At the top of the form someone had handwritten, Lesli Stone, as a patient. I checked the date from when it was first filed. It read: June 20, three years ago.

"She wasn't." I looked up from the paper at Mona. "She was stealing Lesli Stone's."

"Wait, what?" Hana shrieked. "Lesli was a patient here, too?"

"Yes, and she doesn't want it to go public," Mona answered.

I stared at her, the realization dawning on me. "Is that how you met her?"

Mona stared back at us with a worried, anxious expression on her face, but she didn't answer.

"Lesli Stone was in Radley," Hanna said in a more confident voice. "When?"

I glanced down at the file. "Judging from this, a long time. Long enough to know Mona and Charles."

An icy sensation chilled my bones. Hanna turned to me, and we each exchanged a spooked glance. I knew without having to ask what she was thinking.

Lesli was A.

An hour later, I sat at the kitchen island of the Marin's massive white Georgian house with Aria, Hanna, and Emily. A black and white photo negative strip lay in front of us that Aria had stolen from her friend, Clark Wilkins, another photographer, when they'd taken pictures together earlier at the junkyard. But after Hanna and I confronted Mona at Radley about Lesli, Aria had sent us both urgent texts, telling us she thought Clark might have caught a photo of A. She wanted to look at the photo in detail, so she'd asked Hanna, Emily and I to meet her at Hanna's.

Now, Emily leaned over and zoomed into the photo with a small focusing magnifier stand, examining it close-up. A familiar figure lurked in the background of an appliances junkyard, their dark hood pulled tight around their face, and a full chest suggested that the person was a girl. My stomach turned over. A.

I returned to the page from Lesli's file that we'd taken from Mona, skimming over the rest of the details explaining her admittance to Radley. I gazed at some of the information talking about her stay there, and noticed the name of Lesli's roommate that she'd been assigned to. Bethany Young, the former Radley patient who had been murdered after escaping the facility.

Aria stared at us with wide, intense eyes. "Am I crazy? That's a girl, right?"

"That's a bust and it's Lesli Stone's," Hanna said.

Aria looked at her disbelievingly. "Hanna, stop. We barely know anything about that girl. I mean, taking us down in a courtroom is not the same as taking us down to that bunker."

"Aria's right," Emily agreed. "I mean, why? Why would she torture us?"

"Because she's unstable, that's why," Hanna reasoned. "That girl's got bigger mood swings than that Captain Hook ride at Hersey Park."

"And you forgot to mention that she once shared a room at Radley with Bethany Young," I added.

"What?" Emily and Aria said in unison. Hanna took the page from me.

"They were roommates and probably pretty close," I said, recalling the horrible event. "Lesli must think that we helped Ali kill Bethany Young that night and then dumped her body in that pit."

"Your sister did that," Emily reminded me.

"No," I disagreed. "Melissa just…buried her alive. We still have no idea who bashed her over the head and Lesli doesn't know any of it. She probably thinks that Alison did the deed and we helped her get rid of the body."

"But why hide behind Charles's name?" Aria wondered.

"Maybe she was just as close to Charles as she was to Bethany. It all comes back to Charles."

"So was Mona covering for Lesli?" Emily questioned. "I mean, by stealing her file?"

"Mona said she was doing it to repair their friendship," Hanna jumped in. "Lesli's got her fooled, too."

"Or not," I said doubtfully.

"What about Sara?" Emily pointed out. "I mean, why would Lesli Stone go after a complete stranger?"

"It was probably just a rehearsal, Em." The wheels in my head started to turn. "Until she could get her hands on the real Alison."

Everyone looked around with scared, nervous eyes. After a few long seconds, Aria spoke next.

"Okay, so what do we do now?" she asked.

"Well, we know where she lives," I said.

Hanna nodded. "I say we catch her in the act."

Emily stared at her. "How?"

I glanced at the folder containing Jess' file folder. I hadn't shown the contents to the girls yet, or told them about Ali's strange connection to a girl neither of us had ever seen before. I took a deep breath, deciding there was no better time than now to tell them.

I pulled out the folder from underneath the pile of papers and showed it to them. "I found this while Hanna and I were at Radley," I admitted quietly. "There was a video of this girl with Ali from an old digital camera buried behind Alison's house. I think they knew each other, and then I found her file."

Hanna stared at me. "What? Why didn't you say anything?"

Emily gasped. Aria looked confused. Hanna snatched the file from my hands and tore through it. "Who is she?"

She finally found the piece of thick, creamy paper with Jess' personal information–her birth date, the hospital where she was born at, and her biological parents. "Jess Clarke," she read. Hanna stared at it and frowned, and then her eyes widened.

Aria frowned. "Hanna, what is it?"

Hanna remained speechless for a long time, her hand clapped to her mouth. "It says here that Gabriel Holbrook is her father."

Emily gaped at her. "What?"

"Let me see." Aria peered over Hanna's shoulder, reading below the birth date that proclaimed Gabriel Holbrook as the father.

"Whoever Jess is, she's connected to Alison and to Holbrook," I said.

A taut, serious expression came over Emily's face. "Does Ali know?"

"I don't think Ali would have enlisted his help to clear her name from Bethany's murder if she knew he was Jess' biological birth father."

"He was looking for Jess," Hanna concluded.

"And Ali was part of that trail," Emily said a second after.

"We still don't know anything about her," Aria added. "She could be the one who put us in that Dollhouse. She could be Charles."

A frightening, eerie feeling fell over the room. For a while, nobody said anything.

I looked out the window onto the tranquil, empty street. The clouds had shifted, and it was pitch-black outside. I stared at the trees and the forest beyond them, wondering what other secrets were lurking there. Could Holbrook really be Jess' dad?

Before I could ponder it any longer, Hanna's front door opened, and Alison strode into the kitchen in a short-sleeved, cropped black top over a flowy white underlay top and dark blue jeans. A white bandage was stuck to her forehead.

She looked from one girl to the other. "I got your text. What's going on?"

Hanna crossed her arms over her chest. "You tell us."

"Who's Jess?" I asked her.

Alison's face drained of color. "H–how do you know about her?"

"Spencer found her file while we were at Radley," Hanna informed her. "Holbrook is her dad."

Ali looked confused. "What?"

Emily looked at Alison. "Who is she?"

Before she could answer, the doorbell rang, making us all jump. "Who would be here ten o'clock at night?" Aria mused.

Ali started for the door, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw who was on the other side of the side-paneled glass. "Josh," she breathed.

A blue-eyed beautiful boy who looked to be about eighteen walked in. Shimmers of gold fell in waves around his angular face and he had a full, tender mouth. He was tall and lean with visible muscles, but there was something innocent and genuine about his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. Instantly, my heart hammered against my chest when I realized he was the boy from the video.

Josh gave Ali a crooked smile that I was sure made most girls fall to their knees. "Hey, Ali Cat." He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

When they pulled out of the hug, Ali met his eyes directly. "What are you doing here?"

"I dropped by your house and your dad told me you'd be here." Josh's expression turned somber. "Jess is missing."

Ali paled. "Missing?" she squeaked.

Josh nodded, looking concerned. "Yeah. She disappeared about a week ago. I tried calling her, but all I get is radio silence. Have you seen her?"

Ali shook her head, but I thought I saw a trace of dishonesty behind her eyes. "No."

He looked behind Ali at us in surprise, as if he was just noticing we were there. Josh nodded towards Aria, Emily, Hanna and I. "Who are they?"

She stepped aside, gesturing towards us with her hands. "These are my friends, Aria, Emily, Hanna, and Spencer."

Josh smiled. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry for just showing up like this. My friend, Jess, left home about a week ago and I'm worried something's happened to her."

"What makes you think she would be here?" Hanna asked him.

Josh's mouth turned grim. "She has a habit of running when bad things happen. I was hoping if she did get into some kind of trouble that she'd be here." He ran a hand through his hair.

Aria, Hanna, Emily and I exchanged uneasy glances. The video swam in front of my mind again, remembering the pining way Josh had gazed at Jess.

"I'm sure we'll find her," Emily tried to assure him. Hanna shot her a sharp look.

Josh pulled out a small square photo out of his pocket and unfolded it. He held up a photograph of a familiar beautiful brunette with olive skin and big, chocolate-brown eyes. Her smiling face stared right at us, as if taunting us. I looked at it, immediately identifying the girl as Jess. A cautious feeling flitted through me, thinking of Jess. Who was she and what happened to her?

Even though every ounce of my being wanted to get answers, an even bigger part was screaming that something was terribly wrong.