The truth is a fragile, unstable thing. There is only one real way things happened but each person processes it so differently from their point of view that it's almost unfair to call them liars for it. The truth isn't supposed to warp and change with time but it does. No one will remember the facts, just what is convenient for them and what helps them sleep at night.

A letter in my mailbox confirmed that who I once thought was the love of my life never loved me, not really. Our relationship started out as a lie and, despite his best efforts to be a better man, he kept falling back into the game. He wanted to uncover our phoniness to the world but a corner of his heart tugged him in the opposite directions. That letter, in scrawled writing, was the untampered truth, but what was my truth? He hadn't only been playing, there were moments he had rebelled to help me. What about what I felt? My feelings were like fresh snow on a winter day trampled into gray slush.

The real villain wasn't motivated by hate but by love. It wasn't lack of feeling but too much of it. Love for her sister and love for her mother were what drove her insane. Knowing about her father's infidelity, she found the way to have her locked away forever. When her plans didn't work out, she took matters into her own hands and made sure she could never threaten her family again.

As for the secret twin, all he had wanted to do was play with his dolls. His favorite was his own sister, who he quickly got tired of for her cruel ways and try to discard for a shiny new doll. When things didn't turn out as he had planned, he had to commit a heinous crime and murder his own mother in cold blood.

Spencer didn't make it. I think about her every day and run that day over and over in my mind, wondering if there was something I could have done. According to the autopsy, she was drugged while knocked out by the chloroform. Her parents had divorced soon after and went their separate ways, with Mrs. Hastings remarrying a few years later while Mr. Hastings is rumored to have become a shut-up alcoholic. My heart breaks for them but more for the fact that no one will ever enjoy her charm and wit again. We won't hear another one of her brilliant ideas or her book reviews, which we always hated. What I wouldn't give to have her tell me her opinion on a book, any book, as long as I could hear her.

As I sit writing this on a deserted beach in the middle of nowhere under the shade of lush palm trees and with the sun shining down on the crystalline water with someone that truly loves me, it feels like it was all a dream, or a nightmare. It's funny how easy it is to distance yourself from something when it's over. The feelings of desperation and stress aren't completely gone, even though it's been years. I'm prone to panic attacks and some days, I have a hard time getting out of bed, but there are good moments too. Having my first short story published was the first positive thing in my life in a long time. And seeing my friends leading normal lives fills my heart with hope. Hanna and Caleb bought the most beautiful white clapboard house in California just off an endless dune beach. Emily continues travelling throughout Asia volunteering in all kinds of organizations and building houses, teaching, collecting garbage and doing whatever she can to help others. I've only seen her new girlfriend in pictures, but they seem to have great chemistry. Toby lives in Alaska, where he owns a shelter for stray cats and dogs. He doesn't use social media so we know little about him, but Caleb assures us that he will be okay one day.

Sometimes the sound of my phone takes me back to another time when I feared each message. Some nights I feel like someone is watching me from every corner. The sniper was never found. Jake tells me to push the thoughts out of my mind to leave room for the pleasant ones. It could be a stalker watching or it could be someone from above, taking care of me.

I am a sailboat on a stormy sea, waiting for the next wave to pull me under and bring me back up again. Just when I think I've run out of air, I'm on the surface once more, gasping for air. When the clouds part and the sky clears, and I'm still afloat, the water sparkles with the reflection of the sun. The breeze is no longer threatening and caresses my face. I look up at the clear blue sky and smile because I survived. Things can only get better from here.


Thank you all so much for all your reviews and for following this story! I have to admit that I've rushed the writing of these last chapters to finish before the show but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to prednewc on Reddit for making the core theory for this fanfiction and thank you again to all of you for reading.

-Brenda