Paige deals with the aftermath of the shooting.

At the time Paige couldn't take it all in. There was a body, someone had been shot, and she had to do something. As she rushed over and crouched down over the victim, she wasn't thinking of A, she was thinking of what to do. So when she recognized their face, it was just one more detail. It wasn't until later that she would think about what it all meant.

She got out her phone and dialed frantically.

"911, what is the address of your emergency?"

"I'm in that lane off Main St, with the art gallery on the corner. Someone's been shot."

"There has been a shooting did you say?"

"Yes, he's..."

Paige looked over the body. He was bloodied, with three wounds that she could see, all in his chest.

"Is the shooter still at the scene? Are you in danger?"

"No, they drove off. He's not moving, please..."

"Is the victim breathing?"

Paige looked. His chest was still. Perfectly still.

"No, he's not.

"Can you feel any pulse?"

Paige put her fingers on his neck.

"No... no..."

"OK, I need your location. Is the street you are in Burton Lane?"

"Yes."

"OK, we're sending someone over. Do you recognize the victim?"

"Yes, it's Jason DiLaurentis."

"Did you see the incident?"

"No, I was around the corner, I just heard the shots."

"Are there any more victims?"

"No."

"Is there anyone else there?"

"No."

"Can I please have your phone number?"

Paige heard herself robotically reciting the number, but sirens were already filling the night, and flashing lights were cutting through the dark with streams of blue and red.

As she spoke fear took hold of her. She looked over Jason's body again in the sporadic illumination. She took out a tissue and used it to rifle through his pockets.

There they were. The keys. She pulled them out, being careful not to touch them with her fingers. She couldn't leave any prints. Her heart racing, she pocketed them, just as she heard footsteps racing towards her.

This wasn't Paige's first time at a crime scene, or first time answering questions for the police, but it wasn't any easier, and the next couple of hours were a blur of light and endless inquiry on the details of what she had seen and heard.

She had heard a car speed off, she hadn't seen it. She didn't know where it had gone. She didn't see the shooter. She didn't know who the shooter might be. She didn't know if there was one shooter or more. She had heard the shots and run in after him. He was already dead when she arrived.

One detail she changed, though. She had been walking down the street when she noticed him on the other side of the road. She hadn't seen where he had come from. It could have been anywhere.

After saying that a few times, she got used to it. It felt like the truth.

Later she was at the police station, where she told her story again. Then her parents came around and she told it one more time. They were concerned, worried for her. They shouldn't have let her walk home that late. They looked at each other, silently sharing the pain of what might have happened to their daughter.

Through it all, Paige sat silently, responding only when asked. No, Jason hadn't seen her. Yes, a glass of water would be nice. Three shots, that is correct. No, the temperature is fine.

Now she was asking herself questions though. Why Jason? Had she really seen what she thought she had seen? Could the hoodie have just been a coincidence? What was he doing? Was he taking orders from Ezra? And how would someone in the black hoodie, the phantom of their nightmares for all these years, just get gunned down in the street like... a regular mortal? Who could possibly have known that he would be there that night, walking down that street at that time, and been ready for him, then pulled the trigger so ruthlessly? Because if Ezra was A, and Jason was working for him, who else in Rosewood was prepared to dispatch someone in the night like that?

Then, as she looked absentmindedly across the room, she saw Ken, Jason's father, being led into a side room, and her heart broke. He had lost almost everything. Paige couldn't imagine what he was going through. She wondered for a moment if the DiLaurentis family had some sort of curse, but she knew it wasn't that. People needed no help in creating misery for others.

She thought of Alison, who would be receiving this news in a jail cell. Once Paige had hated Alison, had seen her as a monster, but now... now she was just a girl, who had been through more than anyone deserved to. She hoped Emily could be there for Alison, to support her as best she could.

This town. This fucked up town. It seemed like the best any of them could hope for was to survive it.

As Paige sat nursing these dark thoughts, she fidgeted nervously. She had to keep her hand away from her pocket, however much she wanted to look at the key she had taken from the scene. And every time someone came in, she jumped a little, expecting them to demand she hand it over. They hadn't seen, though. They didn't know.

Eventually she asked a question of her own. She wanted to make a call, was that OK?

Someone was at the front door, and though Hanna couldn't hear exactly what was being said, her mother sounded worried, like it was bad news. Hanna therefore crept quietly out of her room to the top of the stairs, trying to eavesdrop.

"Do they know who did it?" her mother was saying.

"No, not yet" came the reply. Hanna recognized Ella Montgomery's voice immediately. "Apparently Paige heard a car speeding off, but she wasn't able to see anything."

Hanna charged down the stairs.

"What happened to Paige? Where is she?" Hanna demanded.

"Paige is fine," Ashley assured her.

"There was a shooting in town," Ella added. "Paige found the body and she's at the police station now."

"Who was shot?" Hanna asked.

"Jason DiLaurents," Ella replied. "He... he's dead."

At that moment, Hanna's phone rang. It took her a moment to realize that it was Paige's ring tone, but once she did she answered, fumbling it a little as she headed back upstairs.

"Paige, are you OK?" she asked. "I've just heard, oh my God."

"I'm OK," came Paige's reply, her voice flat and emotionless.

"Your freaking, aren't you?" Hanna asked. "You must be freaking. I'll come over now."

"You don't have to," Paige tried to assure her.

"Are you still at the police station?" Hanna asked.

"Yeah," Paige replied.

"OK, I'll see you soon," Hanna said, hanging up.

"Come on mom, we have to go," Hanna declared as she ran back downstairs and out the door.

Hanna ran at Paige the moment she saw her and practically tackled the girl.

"Oh my God, are you OK?" Hanna was saying, her arms wrapped around Paige, who tentatively hugged her back.

"Yeah... I don't know," Paige hesitantly replied. "A bit stunned I guess."

They were in the foyer of the police station, Paige having come out at the sound of Hanna's voice.

"Have they given you food?" Hanna asked. "You need food."

"I don't really think I could eat right now," Paige responded.

"Oh, we should have brought some cookies," Hanna lamented, mad with herself for not thinking of it as they rushed out. "Mom, you need to go back home and get some cookies."

"No, it's OK," Paige assured them. "They gave me something before, but I'm too..."

"Paige probably needs to sit down again," Ashley suggested.

"Yeah," Paige agreed.

Paige led them into a side room where her parents were waiting. They greeted Hanna's mom, and they all said parent things, but Hanna was too focused on Paige to pay any attention to the others.

As they sat down Hanna took Paige's hand in her own. Paige looked at her with a weak half smile. Hanna wanted to find whoever did this and kick their ass. Couldn't they have shot Jason some other time, when Paige wouldn't be there? Or not shot him at all, of course. That probably would have been better, thinking about it.

The room went quiet. Hanna had so many questions, but she didn't know where to start.

"Do you want me to get you a soda?" was what she eventually came out with. "They've got a machine out there, and sometimes it gives you two if you nudge it a bit."

"Hanna!" her mother cut in.

"What? Like they're gonna arrest me?" Hanna responded.

Paige laughed a little.

"I'm fine thanks," she replied.

Hanna looked into Paige's eyes, but she couldn't see what was going on behind them. Paige looked... distant. Hanna was worried now.

"Did you see?" Hanna asked.

Paige shook her head.

"I just heard the shots," she explained. "They were so loud, and... I turned the corner... he was just lying there..."

Paige gripped Hanna's hands tightly, and started shaking, almost imperceptibly, and her stony exterior started to dissolve.

Hanna hugged Paige, and this time Paige held her firmly, fearfully.

"I'm sorry," Hanna whispered in her ear.

They held each other for a while. Maybe it was awkward, but that didn't matter now. When Hanna eventually let go, Paige's mom put her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

At that moment a police officer entered the room.

"Miss McCullers, you're free to go now," she announced.

Paige smiled, but she looked exhausted.

With that, they all stood and filed out into the empty, still night.

As they walked back to their cars, Paige held back a little, and Hanna followed her cue. Paige leaned in close to Hanna as they walked.

"He was wearing a hoodie," she whispered.

"What, the shooter?" Hanna asked. "We need to tell the police."

"No, Jason," Paige responded. "Jason was wearing a hoodie."

This Hanna did not expect. Like, the fuck?

Soon they were at their cars.

"Call me when you're up to it," Hanna said to Paige. "Tomorrow, OK?"

"I will," Paige promised.

They kissed, and parted ways.

On the way home, Hanna couldn't stop worrying about Paige, and what she'd seen that night. But she was also wondering what new shit the town had just thrown at them.

Paige lay in bed for the rest of the night, but she couldn't sleep. The room was quieter than the police station, but her head was still a bustle of noise. And as the sun rose in the morning, Paige was staring at the key now sitting on her desk, carefully wrapped in tissue. She needed to do something, or this would get worse. Far, far worse.

She picked up her phone.

Paige's head was spinning and her stomach was knotted, but she knew she had to do this.

She dialed.

There was a dial tone, then soon it was answered.

"Oh hello, Paige," came the voice from the other end.

"Mona, I need your help," Paige said.