Hello all! Hopefully you're all doing wonderfully on this fine Saturday morning. I've got a long day of travel ahead of me (headed back to Orlando after a much-needed week off back home) and I'm not looking forward to it, but I know you guys will make it all better. If there's one thing I've come to understand, it's that I have the best, most loyal readers and reviewers on this planet. You guys rock, seriously. I love you all so much.

This is the beginning of the end, friends! We have four chapters left, not including this one, and we're coming to a close. It's crazy. I'm actually really sad. This story is like my baby and I worked so hard on it. I'll definitely be sad to see it go. But I'm also excited for you to see how it all plays out, too. After all, the Unholy Trinity (that's Red Coat, Black Widow, and -A, obvs) is just chapters away from its big reveal, so that'll be fun. The girls (yes, that's plural) have a few hoops to jump through, first. Get ready! Get set! And thank you for all of your amazing responses. You know I love all of you crazy daisies. See you soon. :)

Ten

The four-word message haunts her all night long.

She can't handle the feeling pumping through her veins. It's like every terrible thing that's ever happened to her has come back to taunt her, all at once. It's like being thrown, head first, into a pack of angry, raging wolves. It's like someone's thrown a bag over Kate's head, bound her arms and legs, and tossed her aside, throwing Spencer straight into the limelight; you can run, but you can't hide. Not anymore. She can't stop staring at the text; those four little words, what were at once harmless, now remind her of something she'd care not to remember. As a child, hide and seek had been Spencer's favorite game because for everything Melissa was good at, this innocent game hadn't been one of them. She'd curl herself into a little ball and slip, unnoticed, into the smallest of crevices and, when Melissa couldn't find her, she'd shout, in frustration, "Olly olly oxen free!" And Spencer would pop out, a victorious grin on her face, because she'd win, every time. Now, hearing those words make her want to retreat further into her cozy bungalow and shut out the world.

The way Spencer sees it, she has three options, here. The first is that she could tell Drasin and most likely, it's the best one. Drasin's been in charge of her case since day one and he's been the closest one to her since they started. They'd built up a real camaraderie and she's so lucky she's had him to get her through the tough and confusing times. She could bring the text to him and they could break their heads over how to solve a puzzle Charles clearly doesn't want to be solved and that would be that. The only problem is, telling Drasin would mean a sure uprooting and relocation and honestly, as boring as this town could be, she's not exactly ready to leave it. She'll miss her friends and her job and her perfect little house with the endless view of impossibly blue water. It's déjà vu; it's history repeating. If she leaves Casco Bay, people all over the town will wonder what happened to her; in time, they'll ponder whether Kate Wilson had actually existed, had actually been a part of their lives, or if she'd just been a figment of their collective imagination.

Her second option is that she could tell Toby. This one's a bit more dangerous, because technically, she shouldn't be telling Toby anything. They shouldn't even have contact and she's sure telling him Charles has found her would only further complicate their already complicated situation, but it's Toby and she used to be able to tell him everything. She knows he would want to know; he's been in this, with her, since the very beginning, even if he hadn't known it. But telling him seems almost pointless; after all, what could he do about it? He might still be a detective, but if he and his colleagues hadn't caught Charles yet, in these past five, almost five and a half, years, who's to say they'd catch him now? It's a tough blow; Spencer wants to tell him desperately, but she knows it isn't the best way. She knows she shouldn't add even more of a burden to his mind. In time, hopefully they'll return to a place where they'll be able to share their lives again. But it won't be this. It won't be now.

Her third and final option is to keep it to herself and not tell anyone. She likes this option because it means she gets to stay in Casco Bay, blissfully ignorant, and she doesn't have to worry Toby. But she's not going to pretend she doesn't know it's the most dangerous of them all. If this really is Charles and it isn't some elaborate prank, if after all this time he's finally found her, then she knows she's in trouble. And she can't just go about her days, having lobster festivals and sailing Cape Elizabeth and working at the counseling center, with Charles following her every move. The first time almost killed her numerous times; there's no way she can go back to running and fearing for her life, being stalked by faceless figures in black hoodies and receiving horrifying gifts and surprises from her resident stalker. She barely made it out with her life, last time. She doesn't have the energy for another go.

The sun comes up and brings warmth to an icy, mid-January morning. The sky is a crystal clear blue and snow glistens on the beach and seagulls still cry into the brand new day. Spencer's sitting on her couch, cross-legged, as she has been for hours, now. She hadn't slept a single second, agonizing over this decision, and now, the night has passed and morning begs for an answer. If she was still sixteen, still naïve and unable to grasp the full gravity of this situation, she might keep it to herself, she might try to deal with it alone. But she isn't a child, anymore. She's grown up in more ways than one and she knows that there are very few things in life that one can do alone, without asking for a single ounce of help. Dealing with a sociopathic murderer is certainly not one of them. Therefore, when Drasin comes over moments later, knocking on the door and greeting her with a smile as she lets him in, she knows she must tell him. She's an adult now. It's time for her to start acting like one.

"Morning, Spence," He says. "Sleep okay?"

"Not at all, actually," Spencer admits. "I, uh… I have something to tell you."

Drasin immediately dons an expression of concern. "Yeah. Go for it. What's wrong?"

"I had to stay late last night to organize a couple of Dr. Cohen's patient files," Spencer explains. "So I didn't get home until after ten o'clock, probably. Much later than usual. When I got home, I was tired, so I was getting ready to go to bed and I got a text."

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and illuminates the screen, handing it over to him. "I think it's from him."

Drasin's face completely changes and nearly loses all color. "Are you sure?"

"It's from an unknown, blocked number," Spencer says. "And that message is the kind of thing he'd send, believe me."

"I do," Drasin nods, handing her the phone. "Thank you for telling me. You did the right thing."

She nods, too. "Now what?"

"I don't know," He frets and she can tell this is new for him. "None of my charges have ever been contacted by their pursuer. Sit tight; I'm going to have to make a few calls."

Drasin's on his phone before he's even stepped out of the room. She isn't sure what she's supposed to do next, but the rumble of her stomach tells her breakfast is a must. Retreating to the kitchen, Spencer pulls out a frying pan and decides she wants an omelet. Focusing on mundane things, like cracking the eggs and sorting out the yolks and adding cheese, mushrooms and tomatoes, keeps her mind off of Charles and death threats and –A. She's just gotten the pan hot enough and she's just ready to flip the omelet over itself when Drasin returns, determination and war on his mind. Her breakfast is sizzling on the stove and the aroma makes her mouth water and her stomach growl, but she's now focused on him.

"Pack a bag," Drasin orders. "We're going to Philadelphia. Now."

They're on the next flight out and it feels like it did five years ago when she'd left Spencer behind like a second skin in order to become Kate and yet here she is now, leaving Kate to reassume her life as Spencer. She should've known that happiness and light wouldn't last forever; that her flimsy façade she'd created as Kate Wilson would never truly be the life she'd lead. Maine shrinks below fluffy clouds and when the plane lands an hour and a half later, Pennsylvania welcomes her back like an old friend. There's a tiny flurry of snow swirling in the air around her as she steps out of the airport with Drasin nearly attached to her hip. He's got a gun holstered on his belt and she isn't, really, but she feels like a prisoner. He motions towards an armored van waiting for them and the game goes on and on.

She remembers the last time she'd ridden in one. She'd been utterly broken and distraught over leaving her parents, her best friends, and the love of her life, and she'd watched the lines on the pavement blur together as they raced towards an escape. Today, she's just kind of there; she doesn't know what to feel or to think, so she doesn't do much of either. Drasin's sitting beside her and he keeps shooting sidelong glances at her as though she'll likely combust at any second. She's not as broken as she once was, but if this doesn't come to an end soon, she could be. The driver is an agent she doesn't recognize, but they end up at the field office where this whole thing began and it gives her an odd sense of nostalgia. They swipe their IDs as usual and lead her to a back conference room, allowing her to sit. She does, pulling off her coat and sinking into a hard plastic chair.

"I know it feels like you're being questioned," Drasin says. "Or like you're in trouble, but I promise you're not. This is just the safest place we can think of to keep you for now."

Spencer shrugs. "Whatever you say."

"You are free to leave. No one's keeping you here," Drasin says and then backpedals just a bit. "I mean, you can't leave the building. We need you here until we figure this out, but you can leave the room, walk around a little. There's a break room down the hall with coffee, donuts and bagels and if you wanted to sleep, we can arrange that, too. There are beds in the back."

"I'm okay," Spencer disagrees. "Thanks."

Drasin nods. "I'm sorry."

She looks at him, alarmed. "Sorry for what?"

"I was supposed to keep you safe," Drasin laments. "And here we are again."

"Please. It's not your fault," She shakes her head. "It was only a matter of time."

There's a knock on the door and a familiar face enters the room. Well, a few familiar faces; Lawson comes in with an agent she doesn't know, a detective she doesn't recognize, and Toby. She smiles just a bit when their eyes meet and his seem to soften upon the sight of her. Lawson greets, "Spencer. Good to see you. I'm sorry we've had to meet under these circumstances, but this just means we're one step closer to getting this son of a bitch."

"Yeah," She agrees. "Yeah, I guess so."

"If you wouldn't mind walking me through it," Lawson implores. "I want to know exactly what happened."

"Well, it was kind of simple," Spencer shrugs. "I was out all day, I came home from work and I got the text. It was out of nowhere, but that's the way he's always operated. He gets you when you least expect it."

Lawson nods. "And you hadn't done anything in the recent past to call attention to yourself? Anything that might get you into trouble?"

Her eyes flick to Toby's for just a split second. She remains calm. "No, sir."

"I didn't think so," Lawson shakes his head. "So here's how this is going to work. Unsurprisingly, you are not the only one who's received this text. About an hour ago, just after Agent Drasin called in your situation, I got word from Agent Kellerman that the same text was also sent to Aria Montgomery."

"Robertson also said that Emily Fields has received the text as well," The agent she doesn't recognize confirms. "And I'm sure if you've all received it, then it must have also been sent to Hanna Marin."

Lawson nods. "That has been confirmed, yes."

Just the sound of her best friends' names is enough to spark excitement in her veins. Lawson continues. "As such, we are ordering the expedited return of the other girls to this very location. They should be here within the next few hours."

Her eyes widen. "I get to see my friends again?"

Lawson nods shortly. "You do. What we're going to do is a kind of Dateline: To Catch a Predator-type operation. We're going to utilize one of your cell phone numbers, assume your identity and lure this supposed 'Charles DiLaurentis' into a trap. We're going to catch him without any of you actually being involved."

Spencer can't help herself. She blurts out, "That won't work."

Lawson eyes her. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, I just… Charles likes games," Spencer explains. "But he doesn't like games being played on him. And he's not stupid; he'd never fall for something so blatantly-"

"So blatantly what?" Lawson cuts her off and Spencer's silent.

"Nothing, sir," She shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

Lawson eyes her a moment before saying, "Alright. As for now, make yourself comfortable. It could be a while. The space is yours. Just please don't try and run. Remember what I told you? We'll find you, every time."

He leads his group out of the room and Spencer finds herself frowning as Toby follows obediently. Drasin shakes his head beside her and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't sweat it, Spencer. We'll figure this whole thing out. It'll be alright."

"Yeah but he has no idea what he's dealing with," Spencer exclaims. "Charles isn't going to fall for that. It's ridiculous! You're never going to lure him out like some kind of snake charmer. He's smarter than that. He's not an amateur. That's the reason you haven't caught him yet!"

"Okay," Drasin nods. "But let us handle that. You just sit tight. Don't worry so much."

Spencer scoffs. "Do you even know me?"

Drasin shoots her a grin and shakes his head, standing and heading for the door. "Sit back and relax, Spencer. It'll all be over soon."

Spencer disagrees. "Not the way you're doing it."

Smirking, he opens the door, but just before he can exit, Spencer says, "Sam, wait."

He turns back towards her, all ears. "What's up?"

Her conscience is performing a mutiny and if anyone should know, it should be him. "I lied."

Drasin's eyebrows knit together in concern. "You lied about what?"

"When Lawson asked me if I'd done anything to call attention to myself... I said no." Spencer inhales a deep breath. "That's not true."

He frowns. "What did you do?"

"Um... A couple of months ago, I ran into Toby at Frank and Margaret's place," She confesses. "You know, the diner on 5th and Water, with the really good-"

"Yeah, Spencer, I know about the diner," He cuts her off. "Tell me about Toby."

"They got a lead and he was there and..." She trails off, allowing him to connect the dots. "We weren't thinking. And when it came time to say goodbye again... We couldn't do it."

"Never mind the fact that it put both of you in danger?" He asks, his tone scolding.

Spencer's eyes lower. "At the time, it seemed worth it."

"And was it? Is it, still?"

"Yes," Spencer finds herself saying and Drasin sighs. "Don't tell me that if you got a second chance, you wouldn't take it. You and I both know you would."

He says nothing and her suspicions are confirmed. "My situation's different than yours."

"Still."

"Lucky for you," Drasin comments. "Lawson has reason to believe that Charles has known your and your friends' locations for a while, now. I don't think your error in judgment or your contact with Detective Cavanaugh caused this, but it certainly didn't help."

"Wait, he does?" Spencer asks. "How? Why?"

"Apparently, they found a cellphone in an old warehouse in Portland," Drasin shrugs. "Whomever bought this cellphone connected it to the wireless provider back in August and it was shown connecting to a network just outside... I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Spencer smirks. "Because we tell each other everything."

"Yeah, apparently not."

It's her turn to sigh. "You know I couldn't. And I'm sorry, I really am."

Drasin eyes her. "Are you sure about that one?"

"Well," Spencer amends her statement. "I'm sorry I lied about it. I'm not sorry I did it."

His eyes remain locked with hers and then, after a beat, he cracks a smile. "There's the Spencer I know and love. You're really something, you know that?"

She chances a laugh. "Yeah, I've been told."

"I've changed my mind. You're not allowed to leave this room." He heads for the door again. "I don't trust you. Stay here. For the love of God, we don't need you in any more trouble."

"Promise," Spencer nods. "Scout's honor."

"You were never a Scout!"

"Kate was!"

"You're not Kate, anymore," Drasin says and it feels strange, but it's true. "Welcome home, Spencer."

The door swings shut between them and she's left alone. Her phone's on the table before her and it remains silent. She's got nothing else to focus on, now. The words are still there in the forefront of her mind; olly olly oxen free. Somehow, she doesn't understand and it makes perfect sense; come out, come out, wherever you are! After a long beat of silence, there's another knock on the door and she glances up, startled, but instantly relaxes. It's Toby and he's brought her a cup of coffee and a bagel. She could kiss him just for thinking of her. "Hey. I'm sorry; I couldn't get away sooner. They're really freaking out over this."

"It's okay," She says, accepting her gifts as her stomach growls hungrily. "I'm starving. Thank you."

"You're welcome," He smiles and takes the seat in front of her as she tears into her bagel. "You should've told me he texted you."

"I'm not supposed to be telling you anything, remember?" Spencer says, nodding towards the mirror on the wall behind him. "Are we being watched?"

Toby shakes his head. "No. Nobody cares about us when there's a sociopath on the loose."

"Even still," Spencer shrugs. "If I told you, what could you have done?"

"I would've done something."

"Like what?"

After a beat, he sighs. "I don't know."

"Exactly," She says. "We should've known all along."

"Hey," He states, taking one of her hands in his. "We're one step closer to figuring this thing out."

"Yeah, but you heard the way they want to do it," Spencer says. "And you know Charles and you know that won't work."

Toby sighs. "Yeah. I know."

"The only way this is going down is in some big, elaborate showdown," Spencer tells him. "That's the way it was destined to end from the beginning. We can't do it their way or we'll always be one step behind, grasping at straws."

"I'm not saying I disagree with you," Toby says. "But what are we going to do about it?"

"Ask me after I've finished this," Spencer requests, sipping her coffee. "Because I'm running on neither food nor sleep; I need sustenance before I can hatch an idea."

He grins and then asks, "How are you? Really? Because you don't seem as shaken up as I thought you might be."

"I'm okay, actually," Spencer replies. "It freaked me out when I first got it, but call me crazy, but I was actually excited to come back here. I'm excited to see the girls again. I'm almost excited that he texted us in the first place."

Toby dons a look of confusion, asking, "Why?"

"Because," She states simply. "For the first time, I think he wants it to be over just as much as we do."

He processes her words a moment before asking, "What did he text you?"

She asks, surprised, "You don't know?"

"I'm basically just here to do their dirty work," Toby confesses. "When you're not actually in the FBI, you don't actually get any of the information."

She nods in understanding. "Olly olly oxen free."

He deadpans, "What?"

"That's what he texted me- olly olly oxen free," And to his confused look, she elaborates, "It's a phrase used most commonly in hide and seek. It indicates that players who are in hiding can come out and that the game is officially over."

Toby shakes his head. "That's creepy."

"Yeah, well," Spencer smiles ruefully. "That's Charles."

He toys with her fingers a little before asking, "So what about us?"

Spencer frowns. "What do you mean?"

"When all of this is over," Toby indicates. "What does that mean for you and I? Where do we go from here?"

"Well," She thinks for a moment. "I told you once that you were my once upon a time, right?"

Toby smiles. "Yeah."

"When this is all over," Spencer speaks candidly. "I think it's about time we got our happily ever after."

Spencer's sure it's been mere minutes, but it feels like it's been hours since she was first brought in here and she's absolutely bored out of her mind. There isn't really anything for her to do other than stare at the wall; she's played a hundred and one rounds of Solitaire and Candy Crush and 2048 on her phone, but even that's gotten boring after a while. Toby checks in on her when he can and she always wishes he could stay longer, but she knows he's busy trying to solve the impossible case. She wonders what's happening back home- which is a weird thought because she's in Pennsylvania now, so technically she is home- in Casco Bay; are Dr. Cohen and her friends missing her? Are her clients' sessions all going to get canceled? She's pretty much disappeared without a trace; it's likely that someone is going to worry.

The door to the conference room opens slowly a moment later and it snaps Spencer from her reverie. An unfamiliar agent enters first and nods in greeting as Spencer does the same. He holds his hand out, motioning for someone to continue, and then Spencer's heart nearly stops. Aria Montgomery enters the room and her eyes are immediately wide the moment she lays them on Spencer. The latter cannot believe her own; her petite friend looks mostly the same and still somehow vastly different. Her hair's much lighter and her outfit seems much too normal for Aria, but then again, since Spencer's spent the last few years being someone else, she understands that Aria has not exactly been Aria after all.

"Oh my god," Spencer says, still unable to believe this is truly happening. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're here."

"Spencer!" Aria exclaims and the girl in question is out of her seat in minutes. "Oh my god!"

They embrace giddily and Spencer finds herself finally confronting just how much she'd truly missed her friend. When they pull back, Aria says, "Your hair is so cute! I love how short it is!"

"Mine? Look at yours!" Spencer says. "You're blonde!"

"Blonde-ish," Aria says. "Believe it or not, it only needed a little help from the bottle. This is mostly from the sun!"

"The sun?" Spencer implores. "Where have you been?"

"Florida," Aria replies. "Miami, more specifically. I've been living off of Cuban food and I learned to salsa dance and I speak fluent Spanish, now. I don't even know who I am."

Spencer grins. "Florida must have been nice, though. I bet coming back to this cold wasn't fun."

"Oh my god, five and a half years in Florida has made my blood so thin," Aria agrees. "I almost froze to death getting off the plane."

They share a laugh and Aria asks, "But what about you? Where have you been?"

"Casco Bay, in Maine. I don't know if you've ever been there," Spencer says and when Aria shakes her head, she elaborates. "It's a sleepy, sailing, lobster town. It's beautiful but ultimately uneventful. Still better than Rosewood, any day."

"Oh, well what isn't?" Aria agrees. "So you got the text too, huh? Seems our little friend wants to come out and play again."

"How convenient of him," Spencer says. "Just when I felt like I was finally over him."

"He always knows just when to swoop in and ruin everything," Aria shakes her head. Spencer agrees wholeheartedly.

"So, I'm afraid to ask, but," Spencer starts. "Are you married? Or at least involved seriously with anyone?"

"Oh god no," Aria shakes her head. "I'm not ready for marriage. And I definitely can't commit to anyone when I don't even know who I am."

"Oh you don't? I sure do." Spencer teases, extending her hand in introduction. "Meet Kate Wilson, grief counselor in training and the ultimate girl next door."

"Nice to meet you, Kate," Aria chuckles, shaking her hand. "I'm Madison Conway, entrepreneur extraordinaire."

Spencer scrunches her nose. "You don't look like a Madison."

Aria agrees, "You don't look like a Kate."

They sink into chairs beside one another and catch up, desperate to make up for lost time. In the middle of their deep conversation, Emily enters the scene and they embrace and Spencer feels like her heart could burst with excitement. She's missed these girls so incredibly much. They hear all about Emily's life in Seattle, where she was posing as a girl named Lila Carson ("That so doesn't suit you," Aria tells her. "You don't look like a star-child hippie.") and a general retailer at a fish market. And just when they think it can't get any better, Hanna is the last to arrive; hail, hail, the gang's all here. She's been in San Diego as a librarian by the name of Olivia Bennett and all the girls find this detail mildly hilarious. They talk and hug and catch up and it's just like old times. It's almost as if no time has passed at all.

After a while, Emily glances around and asks, "Wait, where's Alison?"

And only then do the others realize that the mysterious fifth member of their group is noticeably absent. Hanna comments, "Knowing Ali, she's waiting to make some grand entrance."

"Yeah," Aria agrees, grinning. "She'll probably show up all, 'Did you miss me?' like she always does."

There's a knock on the door and Spencer says, "And there she is."

But instead of Alison, Lawson enters the room and his face is somewhat grave. "Girls, I'm glad to see you've gotten the chance to become reacquainted with one another."

Emily chances again, "Where's Alison?"

"As you know, each and every one of you has had an agent that's stuck close to you throughout this entire journey," Lawson says. "We've reached out to each of your agents and they've brought you here in an effort to keep you all safe as we attempt to finally capture your perpetrator."

"Is this a fancy way of saying Ali's not coming?" Hanna asks and Lawson sighs.

"Yes, Hanna, I'm afraid so," He goes on. "All our attempts to reach Agent Welsh, the agent on Alison's case, have fallen short. About two hours ago, we retrieved his body from a dumpster near Alison's apartment. Alison is nowhere to be found."

The girls' eyes are wide. Spencer wonders, "But you'll find her, right?"

"We have reason to believe that wherever Charles is now, he's got Alison with him," Lawson says. "This has just escalated into a much more dangerous situation than we once thought. At the moment, we're attempting to get into contact with him and further our plans for the safe retrieval of your friend and the incarceration of this sociopath. Please remain calm. We've got this under control."

He nods and exits. The girls are left in silence. Hanna's the first to break it, as always. "Okay, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"He's sweating," Aria says. "He has no idea what to do next."

"His plan is ridiculous," Spencer shares. "Earlier, he said he wanted to lure Charles out with bait like he's some kind of difficult pet."

"That's not going to work," Emily shakes her head and Spencer agrees.

"Exactly," She counters. "We have to figure out a way out of this building so we can get to him ourselves. There's no way he's going down without a fight and I don't know about you, but I'm ready for one."

"Okay," Aria nods. "But how are we ever going to do that? I mean, we're basically on lockdown."

"I've been thinking about it all day," Spencer says. "We're in the FBI field office but there are officers who are on this case that aren't FBI agents. If we get their help, we're not actually going against the FBI, are we?"

"Yes, we are!" Hanna disagrees. "And who's going to agree to help us go against the police, anyway? That's suicide, for us and them."

"Toby can put a team together," Spencer says. "There's got to be someone he knows that's willing to-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Emily stops her and only then does Spencer realize where she slipped up. "Toby's still here? He's still a cop? Have you seen him?"

"Is he okay?" Aria wonders. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah… Yeah, no, we saw each other earlier." Spencer nods quickly. "It was good."

They're not buying it. Aria asks, "Spence, you haven't seen each other in five years and your reunion was just 'good'?"

Emily adds, "What are you keeping from us?"

"Yeah, spill," Hanna urges. "You're obviously lying."

"Okay, but don't hate me," Spencer pleads. "We ran into each other on accident back in November and we've been secretly seeing each other ever since."

"Wait, are you serious?" Emily asks. "That's so dangerous, Spencer!"

"Yeah, what the hell?" Aria chastises. "That could've put you both in serious danger!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I slipped," Spencer confesses. "He was there on a tip about Charles and we bumped into each other. It's not like I went looking for him. And what was I supposed to do after that? Pretend I hadn't seen him? Move on?"

"Yes," Emily and Aria exclaim simultaneously.

Hanna disagrees. "Okay, get off her ass. I would've done the same thing if I'd run into Caleb."

"Thank you, Han," Spencer says and Hanna shakes her head.

"That doesn't mean I don't think it's stupid," Hanna replies. "But it just seems like something I'd do and not you."

"Well, love makes people do stupid, crazy things, okay?" Spencer exclaims. "Now can we get off of that and figure out what we're going to do next?"

They're not over it. Aria wonders, "How did you hide it for three months?"

"Pretty well," Spencer answers. "Since no one ever found out."

"Didn't you have an agent watching you, like, all the time?"

"Yeah, but he trusts me."

"Maybe a little too much."

"Okay, for real, leave her alone," Hanna says. "We need to figure out what we're doing about Charles."

And as if on cue, all four of their phones vibrate with life and it's just like old times. Emily's the first to open hers, but there's no message. It's an audio clip, instead. Hanna and Aria have received the same message; it's clunky and slow, although trying to be upbeat. It sounds like it's emanating from a music box and it's so familiar but none of the girls can quite place their fingers on it. Aria wonders, "I feel like I know this song. But what is it?"

"Mine's different," Spencer says and when she opens her audio clip, their creepy, chiming song suddenly has words. A young boy is singing it.

"Hey, hey, oh playmate, come out and play with me. And bring your dollies three; climb up my apple tree. Slide down my rainbow; into my cellar door. And we'll be jolly friends; forever more!"