A state away, while Ezra was pulling into his driveway, Aria was sitting in New York's JFK airport, at gate B-26, waiting for the plane to take them directly to Reykjavik. She shifted uncomfortably in the lightly padded seat and watched as her mother sketched in her pad, her father worked on his tablet, and Mike played on his PSP. After a moment, she decided she would rather spend her time reading than brooding and rummaged through her carry-on bag. Surprised at the sight of the yellow colored book she hadn't packed; she took it out and read the title. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. Ezra must have stuck it in her bag. The worn pages marked with pen were an indication that this book was both well-loved and old. Instantly, Aria knew it must have belonged to the Springers. Immediately, Aria began to read, stopping only when the flight attendant called for boarding and she had to show her passport.

She finished the book during the thirteen hour flight to the Reykjavik International Airport. It was about the moments that made up the days that made up the years in the life of one woman. She took a second to think about the moment she was experiencing at the plane touched down on the European runway, Mike jolted awake from his nap, her mother looked glumly out the window. She wondered what Ezra was doing just then. Aria could not have possibly imagined that Ezra Fitz was recovering from a severe hangover, having gotten dead drunk the night before over something he couldn't name.

"So everything looks good?" asked Ezra as he looked out the window of his study. "Everything looks great," said the man over the phone. "Everything should be ready by March and then the book will be out by May."

Ezra smiled to himself, "Thanks, Isaac. You've helped me fulfill a childhood dream."

"No problem," said the man chuckling to himself. "But why angels?"

In his mind's eye, Ezra could see flashes of diamond and gold and two different women. "Because my grandmother believed they were always watching over us."

Isaac was quiet for a moment before continuing. "What about your dad's house? It's been nearly two years. Do you want me to put it on the market for you or just keep it as it is?"

Ezra sighed. "You're my lawyer. What do you think?"

"Well, you could keep it as is. Or you could rent it out and make some money off of it. Or you could sell it and be done with it entirely."

"I'm not ready to sell it," said Ezra finally. "See if you can find any renters."

"There are a few other issues we can discuss," continued Isaac hopefully. "There are several things we should probably talk about."

"Not right now, Isaac," answered Ezra tiredly. "We'll talk about them later." A minute later, Ezra hung up his phone, and stared at the September landscape outside his study.

"Mom, can I go out with Mara?" asked Aria. "It's one of the last times I can see her before her family goes back to the States."

Ella looked up from her cooking to the window outside. "I don't know. It's dark outside and we're still not used to it here."

"Mom," whined Aria. "It's not my fault the sun hasn't been out in three days. We knew that would happen in October. Besides, we've been here almost three months. And Sara is going too."

"What are you girls going to do?"

"We thought we would go that underage club near the center. I'll be back by midnight."

"Aria," exclaimed her mother.

"It's not my fault that the legal drinking age is 16. I promise not to touch any alcohol or talk to strangers," said Aria hopefully.

Ella sighed. Life in Europe was certainly different than life in Rosewood. "If you're dad says yes, then you can go. But don't let anyone else hold your drink. And be back by eleven."

"Thanks, Mom," squealed Aria, giving Ella quick hug. Ella smiled to herself. Mara was the first friend Aria had made in Iceland, and she had a good head on her shoulders. Nothing bad would happen to the girls, she told herself.

"Mr. Fitz?" Ezra looked up from his work to the unfamiliar voice.

"Yes, Emily. Can I help you?"

She walked over to stand in front of his desk. "I was wondering," she began nervously. "Could you help me with this essay assignment?"

"What's the problem?"

"I just don't understand what I'm supposed to write about."

"To Kill a Mockingbird is about innocence and its loss. How does the mockingbird symbolize that?"

"You mean, besides the title?" asked Emily, puzzled.

"Yeah. You can write about some of the scenes that stood out to you or you could talk about the ending. Or maybe you could write about the liberty the author took by writing as an adult from a child's perspective."

"Do you think I could write about the hypocrisy of the people in the book, and maybe how the child characters see much more than the adults give them credit for?"

"Do you really think that happens?" asked Ezra, intrigued.

"I do," replied Emily softly. "I think children often see things adults miss."

Ezra smiled. "I just think you found the topic for your essay."

"Thanks, Mr. Fitz," said Emily, before she walked out the classroom door.

"You're welcome," he called out to her. He spent the next several minutes looking over the empty sea of desks, wondering when and how he would spend Thanksgiving this year.

"I like this for Dad," said Aria picking up a dark blue scarf in the small boutique.

"For Christmas?" asked Ella, her eyebrow arched.

Aria shrugged. "Why not? We are in Iceland."

Ella sighed. "It could work, but we should get him something else too."

"What about Mike?" asked Aria, rifling through some shirts on the rack.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I noticed at school that he's been getting really into lacrosse lately. Maybe you and Dad could buy some equipment," Aria suggested. "It might make him happy."

"That's an idea," said Ella thoughtfully. "What about you, what do you want for Christmas?"

Aria was silent for a moment before answering. "Will you get me that dress I really like? The black one with the lace you said was too old for me?"

"The one we saw in that window a month ago?" asked Ella in disbelief. "Don't you think that was much too revealing?"

"I'll make it work, so it doesn't show too much. Besides," she continued firmly. "I'm sixteen. I'm not a child anymore."

"I'll think about it," promised Ella.

Ezra got up on the ladder, and carefully positioned the bucket and his paintbrush as painted the topmost tip of the wall. He had almost gotten it when the doorbell rang. He ignored it and then it rang again. Finally, he heard it open and close.

"Ezra?" called a male voice.

"In here, Hardy," he replied loudly. He continued to focus on the spot on the wall.

"What are you up to, man?" asked Hardy

"I was tired of looking at the wallpaper," said Ezra distractedly. "So I thought I'd paint the dining room."

"Tan?" asked Hardy, looking at the walls.

"It's better than blue flowers," replied Ezra, finishing up the white spot. "What's up?" he asked, climbing down the ladder.

"Why are you painting your dining room instead of out wining and dining someone?"

"If this is about another one of those blind dates you keep setting me up on, you can forget it," said Ezra, leaning against the ladder. "Besides, I wanted to make my snow day productive."

"Do you hear yourself, man?" asked Hardy. "It's January and you got a snow day. Big surprise. You get a free day off of work and you decide to still do work. What is wrong with you? Besides, I was talking about wining and dining me."

Ezra chuckled. "Sure. I'll buy you dinner if you help paint this last wall."

Hardy rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I'm buying steak tonight."

"Don't you always?" asked Ezra moving the ladder down a few feet.

Hardy looked at him with feeling of mock hurt. "It's not like you can't afford it."

"You mean on my pitiful teacher's salary?" asked Ezra as he climbed up the ladder again.

"Sure," harrumphed Hardy.

Ezra shook his head. "Hand me the paint brush."

"Hey Dad," called Aria, knocking on the door of his small in-home office. "I was thinking about taking Mike down to the pub to get some dinner. Is that okay?"

"You guys don't want to stay home tonight?" asked Byron, swiveling around his desk chair to face his daughter.

Aria smiled softly. "Nah. Besides, I thought you and Mom might want the alone time. It is Valentine's Day."

"And you don't want to do anything else except take care of your brother? Are you sure you don't have plans?"

Aria shrugged. "Who would I have plans with?"
"What about that boy you met a couple weeks ago at the bookstore. What was his name?"

"His name is Oskar, Dad. Besides, it's not like we're dating or anything." Byron raised his eyebrow in response, and Aria caved. "Fine. He's meeting me and Mike at the pub. I do want Mike to come though. It would make is all less awkward."

Byron smiled and gave her a handful of krónas. "Have fun."

Ezra was picking up some coffee from The Brew when he saw Spencer in the corner, glumly staring out the window. She seemed…sad. Normally, he wouldn't have approached her, but she just seemed so hopeless that he took his cup of coffee and walked over to her.

"Spencer?" he asked.

"Oh, hi Mr. Fitz," said Spencer, startled out of her thoughts.

Ezra set his coffee down on the table and sat in the easy chair across from her. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," she answered. "My boyfriend lives upstairs, and I came to see him but he wasn't there right now. I thought I'd wait for him."

Ezra took a moment to sip his coffee before answering. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Spencer shook her head. "No thanks."

"You know, I'm not a bad guy to talk to."

"It would just feel strange," admitted Spencer.

"It's Spring Break," replied Ezra. "Pretend I'm not you're teacher."

Spencer sighed and turned to him. "What do you do when you find out you had a brother you didn't know you had?"

"Spencer, what happened?" he exclaimed compassionately. They sat there for several hours and she told him. She had just found out that Jason DiLaurentis was her half-brother.

The lips that met Aria's were hard and insistent, passionate and needy all at the same time. He pulled her closer to him and she responded, four hands roaming around two bodies. But when he pulled her closer to the bed, she pulled away. "No, Oskar."

"I thought we already talked about this," his English was slightly accented in a way that Aria had always found attractive, until now.

"We did. And I had said no." Her voice and tone were firm.

"It has been two months," he whined.

"We already talked about this," repeated Aria, pulling on her shoes.

"Why do you always say no?" asked Oskar, watching as Aria put on her coat.

"Do I need a reason?" demanded Aria.

"I think you do not know why you refuse," he called out to her as she walked out the door.

"I thought it had been taken care of, Isaac," said Ezra into his cell phone.

"The other thing had. I didn't know this would be a problem," answered Isaac helplessly.

"Does this mean I need to fly out to California?"

"Yes," replied Isaac. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like coming out here."

Ezra sighed. "I suppose it can't be helped."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to give it to them."

"But it belongs to your family."

"It belongs to them more. Listen, class is about to start any second. Can I call you back later?"

"No problem," replied Isaac. "But can you at least tell me about when you plan to be here?"

"School ends in a couple of weeks. I'll be there as soon as it lets out."

"Okay, I'll have an art expert come authenticate the painting in the mean time."

"We both know it's not a fake."

"Yes, but we want to make sure the Italians know that too."

"It's hard to imagine that we'll be leaving here in a few weeks," commented Aria, looking at the piles of things to pack and others to leave behind.

"The year went by in a blink of an eye, didn't it?" responded Ella, wrapping a glass figurine in tissue paper.

"Mom," called Mike from his bedroom. "How are we going to get my lacrosse equipment home?"

"We'll have to mail it there, honey," replied Ella loudly.

Aria quietly put a few more knick knacks into boxes before saying. "I wonder if anything's changed in Rosewood."

"I'm sure they have, sweetheart," answered Ella softly. "Things are constantly changing."

Aria continued to put things in boxes when her mother interrupted her. "Make sure you take those home with you, Aria. They're beautiful."

Aria looked at the photographs in her hands, "They're not of anything buy ice and snow."

"I think they're very good, and you are a very talented photographer."

Aria looked through the pictures in her hand and said thoughtfully. "You know, Ezra's the one who gave me the camera. For my sixteenth birthday."

"I always thought he was a good gift-picker," said Ella practically. "Look at the necklace. You rarely take it off."

Aria fingered the diamond angel on her throat. "It was something to remember Grandma Springer by." She was silent for a moment, before she opened her mouth in shock. "I just remembered, Mom. Tomorrow is Ezra's birthday, and we didn't send him anything."

"I'm sure he understands," said Ella sympathetically.

Ezra wasn't surprised that his doorbell rang, but he was surprised that is was Hanna who had rung it, especially considering it was the middle of summer vacation.

"Hi, Mr. Fitz," giggled Hanna.

"Hi, Hanna," replied Ezra, puzzled. Suddenly, he looked down at his shirt and remembered that he was covered in pale yellow paint. He had decided to spend a part of his summer updating his house. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked politely.

Hanna tried to straighten her face before she replied. "I got an email form Aria. She said her family wasn't going to come home straight from Iceland. Her parents decided to spend some time in Italy before coming back. She asked me to make sure you knew."

Ezra nodded. "I know. Byron, I mean Mr. Montgomery, has been emailing me all year. I got the email about Italy last week."

"Are you the person, taking care of their house?" asked Hanna curiously, observing that the yard next door looked freshly mowed.

"Yes."

"Well, Aria said she should be home right before school starts. I thought I should let you know."

"Thanks, Hanna," said Ezra as the girl carefully walked down the porch steps in her very high heels and around the corner.

"This is your favorite painting, isn't it, Aria?" asked Byron, smiling as he came to sit next his daughter on the wooden bench.

"How did you know?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"You've only been staring at it for almost an hour."

"Has it really been that long?" said Aria. "I didn't realize."

"So I guess you're not tired of museums like your brother is."

"Never," smiled Aria.

"When your mom said she wanted to come to Italy just to visit her grandmother's house, I thought she was crazy," admitted Byron. "But then when she said she wanted to visit the art museums in Florence too, I think I understood. She wanted reconnect with her past."

"I'm glad we did this," said Aria. "It's been interesting."

"If you're talking about your mom's long lost cousins," answered Byron dryly. "That wasn't interesting. That was insane. Who knew people could be so…emotional," he finished lamely.

Aria giggled. "Yeah, it was pretty intense finding out I had Italian cousins."

Byron smiled. "Well, why do you like this painting so much?"

"I'm not sure," answered Aria. "The woman in it. She just seems so mysterious and her facial expression is so vague. It makes you wonder what she's thinking."

Byron read the plaque next to the portrait. "It says it was in California for over twenty years."

"Yeah, I read that too. A woman named Felicity Fitzgerald donated it to the museum. It had been in her private collection for decades."

"California," mused Byron. "We're going home in a few days. Are you ready?"

"I guess I'll have to be."

Ezra made sure that everything would be ready for the Montgomerys when they came home. He mowed their lawn, made sure their electricity and water were turned back on, and aired out their house. He was going to pick up the Montgomerys from their airport, too, but someone else, a friend of the family he thought, ended up picking them up in Philadelphia instead. When they got back, he waited for a day before going over.

The house was in disarray and filled with a plethora of boxes and suitcases, and furniture had been moved around to accommodate all the boxes and suitcases. Byron and Ella were genuinely delighted to see him, but he could tell that the timing of his visit was off. It was the day before school started, and Ella and Byron were scrambling to get things ready for their classes tomorrow, and get their home back to the way it was before they left. Neither Mike or Aria were at home. Ella explained that Aria had driven Mike to lacrosse try-outs at the high school. Ezra was slightly shocked, both at the thought of Mike playing high school sports and Aria driving. He stayed long enough to wish Byron and Ella a welcome home, and for Ella to extend an invitation for dinner the following week.

He walked back to his house, aware that something new was beginning, but unaware that his life was about to be turned upside down.

March 12, 2011

We got a big box from Rosewood today. Ezra wrote a book! It's called When Angels Fall. I can't wait to finish it. I already read the first chapter. It's about Grandma and Grandpa Springer and their lives together, and there's a fictional character in it who reminds me of Ezra. His name is Ian. He comes from a wealthy family and has a heartless father who never recovered from his wife's tragic death in childbirth. He ends up meeting an older couple like the Springers who help him overcome his tragic past.

I miss Ezra. We can't just talk to each other about books anymore. I miss Hanna, and Emily, and Spencer too. I bet they could give me advice on what I should do about Oskar. I like him, but I'm not sure I really like him like that. If we hadn't gone away, I guess I never would have met Oskar, and I think my family would have never healed. I think we are ten times stronger now than we were a year ago.