A/N: Hopeless (Spemily) romantic here too. That last sentence Emily said was totally intended to have a meaning, Maxi-Luca.

I hope you still enjoy jealous Emily... (For those of you who expect a jealous Spencer, don't worry, the times will come too).

Thanks, everybody.

"Are you aware of what you're asking me to do?"

He reclined his back against the leather armchair, wiggling his thick eyebrows at her in a rather comical (unfortunately, cute too) gesture that actually counteracted the weight of his question. Almost as if he was having fun out of this situation.

Emily stood awkwardly in the middle of the office where he had conducted her in the hospital, and turned around a little to check if the door was completely shut. Then she nodded, trying to mitigate her uneasiness with a smile.

"I know it's a huge favor to ask", she confirmed with words, "again."

Here she was, delivering her best sweet-and-lost Emily impersonation. But somehow she wasn't sure it was totally working, maybe because this time she didn't actually sound so desperate as the first time, when she'd asked him not to tell her parents about the HGH results. She preferred to break in the hospital to steal them, but she'd given her word to Spencer. She was probably trying too hard. She wasn't the kind to impersonate herself so often, and it probably showed, in a sense.

Maybe her sugar-coating, smooth-talking magic didn't work with Wren at all. The fact that it might've worked with other people didn't totally assure a one-hundred percent success in life.

Maybe it only worked with Americans.

And with girls.

And with Toby.

"But", Wren asked from his seat facing the table, "why are you so sure someone wants to hurt you with those results? I thought everything was settled when we didn't tell your father."

And where he said we, he should have used I. He was reminding her of the great help he'd already offered her once.

That was the main reason why she didn't really want to be here, asking for this.

"I'm a swimmer", Emily tried to explain from the starting point. "If that ever comes out, I'm done. It's a very important year and I can't afford it."

She couldn't really go into an explanation about A.

He wasn't probably going to do it anyway. He looked directly at her again, his eyebrows wanting to rise and failing to do it this time.

"You were a swimmer six months ago too and you didn't ask me to steal every trace that was left of those results", he argued convincingly. "So why are you doing it now?"

Why? Because A wanted to destroy her life and her love story.

Because love had changed, transformed her life, and she wasn't willing to give A the power to destroy it. Because she believed A might want to use it now, more than six months ago.

Because six months ago she was only Emily, the weakest link and former member of Alison's clique. Now she was Emily, renewed weakest link and member of the greatest power-couple the world ever knew of, as well as girlfriend to the leader of the A counter-attack force, and all those changes implied a greater risk, a greater strength, a greater... everything.

"I have reasons to believe they might come out now", she offered, trying to sound convincing too, yet cryptic at the same time, "and I need them not to if I wanna have a chance…" She paused to think about her next words: at a scholarship; at a reasonably happy existence; at life. "At life", she ended the sentence, sounding dramatic enough, but serious and even solemn.

Wren seemed to take some time to consider her words before saying no.

"Why don't you have a seat, Emily?" He pointed at the armchair in front of the table, next to which she was actually standing. "It's making me nervous to see you there standing up all serious and concerned, and I think we need to talk about this."

She complied and took the seat in front of him, but remained silent while he observed her with a curious expression on his boyish face.

"Why didn't you bring Spensah with you?", he finally asked, leaning forward a little and spreading his arms on the dark wooden table. "I'd expect her to be here with you, am I right?"

The game was on.

She couldn't really avoid the frown which formed on her forehead and which somehow finally did away with her sweet-and-lost Emily impersonation. She could go back to being her true self right now. The mention of Spencer's name was the signal both of them were waiting for. It'd been him who'd laid out the cards.

"These are my HGH results we're talking about", Emily answered, matter-of-factly. "I don't see why she should be here."

"But you're dating."

So he knew. How did he find out? He was certainly keen on playing the game hard.

"How do you know?", she asked, even though she wanted to say some other thing that wouldn't reveal her slight surprise.

"There are many ways to find out about what Spensah's doing." Wren looked at her expectantly, almost as if he was enjoying this little talk of truth between them. "Rosewood is not a big city, it is rather a small town, and patients enjoy talking to their doctors."

Emily held his quizzical gaze and decided to go for it.

"Yes, we're dating. What's that got to do with this?"

He shrugged, back to his charming British self.

"Nothing, I guess. I just wonder why she's not here to help you persuade me."

This time, Emily felt like opening her mouth in disbelief at his strategy. She was a swimmer, she wasn't used to compete face to face with someone else. But she managed to keep her mouth closed. The game was on. She might be a teenager, but she ought to play it. He wasn't that much older than her, maybe a few years; and he wasn't that much cuter either.

Hell, he was only a little taller than her. She could do this.

Of course, there was also the fact that he was already a doctor, and British, and he'd travelled the world around and had a lot of experience that she totally and completely lacked, because she was just a high-schooler begging for her swimming career to go on while she secretly fought an archenemy nobody even knew about. But whatever.

She could do this anyway.

"These are my HGH results", Emily slowly repeated, "not hers."

Wren held her gaze while she spoke, but then looked away to check something on the computer in front of him and smiled his little, half smile that seemed to say he always knew better but he was always charming enough not to show off in a gross, openly rude way.

He spent some seconds looking at the screen and then spoke again in a faux distracted tone.

"How long have you known each other now?"

"Why does that matter?"

He looked right through at her again.

"Because you're asking me to steal something for you, and I'd like to know some things about both Spensah and you before I make my decision."

His tone was serious now, although there was that snide undercurrent of slyness that still made everything sound as a game.

"So this is how it is?", Emily asked calmly too, trying hard to poker-face through the game. "If I volunteer information about us you decide if you wanna help me?"

He smiled openly, showing his teeth. He had a nice, honest smile. And his teeth were nice too, small and perfectly lined as if he was a cute puppy preparing to rip up his toy.

"I'd just like to know how long you've been friends."

She reclined against the armchair too, crossing her legs.

"A few years now."

She wouldn't volunteer all the information. There was not a requirement to give details.

"And how long have you been dating?"

Emily thought she was going to kill Spencer in revenge for this conversation.

"About four months now."

Wren nodded and wiggled his brows again, trying to look impressed. Then he studied her again with a much deeper, serious expression.

"You don't like me." He reclined again against his armchair, mirroring Emily's position. "You could tell me why, now that we're here."

Emily's heart jumped at his bluntness, but she guessed this was the real thing. She guessed this was where the whole game was headed from the start. So, now that she was here, she'd rather be honest. She could be honest. She had to; because that was, apparently, what he was after.

"It's not that I don't like you", she tried to clarify honestly, but not too honestly. "It's mainly that I don't trust you."

She swallowed, feeling suddenly small in the leather armchair.

Spencer was going to be furious if she found out she hadn't played graceful all the time opposite Wren. She wasn't going to understand the dynamics and the strategy Wren was following, thus the ones Emily was being forced to take on as well.

He seemed to take her honest words well, though. He was probably searching for that kind of answer, and somehow it pleased him.

"Is that all? The way I remember it, you weren't anything else than a friend when I kissed her." He paused, looked intently into Emily's eyes, and smiled again. "Every time I kissed her."

For some reason, Emily felt like getting up and slapping him in rage at the slightly snarky comment about all the times the kiss had happened (how many times had it happened? She didn't even want to know). However, she succeeded at biting her tongue and fighting her body to react; she remained cool and dignified.

"That's true", she agreed. "But that doesn't mean I have to trust you."

He chuckled in amusement. "So basically you're telling me that you don't trust me but that you'd like me to steal something very important for you?"

Unfortunately, he had a point, and Emily saw it.

She sighed deeply.

"You're right", she conceded. "I shouldn't be asking you this. It's wrong and I should just leave."

Leave to get Aria to steal the goddamn HGH results with her.

She started to move in order to get up, but that wasn't obviously the answer he was expecting, because he leaned forward again in concern, suddenly serious. His forehead wrinkled as his brows rose pointedly above his eyes.

"Emily, wait", he asked, and she stopped. "Let's just keep talking."

"Talking about what? About Spencer?"

She sounded a little rattled now, more than she intended and wanted to sound in front of him.

"No." Wren took another moment to closely study her. "I like you, Emily, I really do. I'm not a bad guy. I wish you could see that."

She did see he wasn't a bad guy. The word bad didn't apply to him. But she didn't like him.

"It's not that I think you're a bad guy." She moved uncomfortably in her seat. "I just don't trust you. I can't."

"Tell me your reasons."

"Why?"

Wren didn't answer right away, but raised his brows again in that particularly funny way he had of doing it. As much as she hated the image, Emily couldn't avoid thinking of the competition of eyebrow-raising which he and Spencer would enjoy were they together in the same room.

That was a competition that would never happen again if she could stop it.

"I never tried anything once she was with you", he said as if he had to defend himself.

"That doesn't mean anything", Emily replied a little too sharply. "You haven't really seen her lately."

He sighed, defeated, and looked down at his hands on the table.

"I was engaged to her sister. That was very inconvenient and inappropriate. I get it."

Well, at least he got that.

"You kissed her the same day she broke up with her boyfriend", she added, but she knew she shouldn't get into this part of the conversation.

He seemed surprised, but then again pleased at her honest reaction.

"But you kissed her too, right?"

How in hell could he know that?

"Yeah", she admitted. "But at least I waited to do it."

"How long?", he asked again.

Emily's dark brown eyes opened wide in surprise. "More than a week."

"You have more patience, I'll give you that", he replied, but Emily failed to determine if he meant it or if he was being sarcastic. "But there's this other thing…" He said, considering if he should say it. "Her boyfriend… he was a friend of yours too. Right?"

Oh, please. How did he know all these things?

A part of her felt ashamed. Because he was right. And because he knew about it.

Another part of her felt outraged. Yes, he was right: she was a traitor. But – there were other factors, and her being a traitor didn't make him look good. He was still a nasty piece of charming British shit who'd basically kissed her when he was engaged to her sister and then kissed her again the day she was crying over a boyfriend whom she claimed to love. And who knew how many more things, how many more inappropriate things he could have done, that fortunately Spencer hadn't really mentioned to her?

Finally, there was a tiny bit of her who felt… absolutely, radically honest. It was entirely wrong to have this conversation, because it felt like she was fighting a rival and there was no need to do that. He was no rival of hers. The situation was settled and established: she was Spencer's girlfriend, and he had nothing to do about it. He wished he did, but he didn't. But, despite that fact that actually gave her an advantage and made her the winner of this game, it was the first time she could actually acknowledge these thoughts she had only thought to herself during the last months, ever since all of this started, or even before it did. It was still awkward to tell him but, on a certain level, Wren was probably the only person whom she could talk to like that. It wasn't as if anybody else was ever going to understand. Not even Hanna or Aria. Not Toby, for sure.

Not even Spencer.

On that certain level, only Wren could understand. And they both knew that.

"At least I am her age", she fought back with all of her weapons. "And I've known her for years. I used to be her best friend, and still am in many ways. I know her. I know who she is."

And that totally settled the discussion. Because no matter how much he showed his little teeth, how much he adoringly pronounced Spencer's name with that slight final touch of elegance and delicacy, how much his brows danced around and talked, he could never know Spencer like she did. He could never handle Spencer like she did. And he could never get Spencer to realize what it all meant, the way she did; the way she'd done.

Wren seemed amused at her sudden outburst of passion.

"I'm still a nice guy", he replied, smiling. "That's what I'm trying to say. All of that doesn't really make you better than me."

She looked directly at him, fire burning in her eyes.

"I never said I was better than you." It was true. She'd never said that. "But I'm the right person for her right now, and that's exactly what I am. I'm the right person. And you never were the right person, you have to admit that."

He smiled openly again, but seemed impressed at the same time. He sent her a glance of curiosity and respect that actually surprised her and made her feel a little embarrassed.

"I like you."

"Thank you", Emily politely replied, not really knowing what else to say.

He laughed at the surprise that was showing in her features, and he decided to expand on his thought.

"You're welcome. I like how blunt you are while at the same time managing to be perfectly nice."

Well, wasn't that who she was when she was at her best? Not exactly blunt, but honest.

And very few people could manage to actually come across nicer than her. Apparently, her magic was somehow working with him too. It was a gift.

She actually liked this guy.

No, she didn't. She would, though, if it weren't because she absolutely distrusted him.

It was Emily who leaned forward on the table now, trying to take advantage of her winning position in the game.

"Look, I get it. You like her. It's okay, I understand", she told him, and how could she not understand? "But that doesn't mean I can trust you, and I won't."

"It's more than liking her, you know", Wren answered, riding the wave of honesty too. "But I won't get in the way, if that's what you're afraid of."

She gave him a disbelieving look, and he laughed now as if he actually had to distrust himself too.

"Right, I can't totally promise you that", he agreed. "But I do like you. It'd be nice to know you like me too if you want me to steal these things for you."

She breathed deeply.

"I don't like you", she finally said, feeling unable to play her nice self again. "I cannot like you, I'm sorry. And anyway you're not gonna do it. I know it's too much to ask."

She was just asking him because it was her duty after she had agreed to do it. Relationships were about bargaining and compromising. So she'd always been told by everybody around her, and she also believed it because she'd seen it work with her parents and because it seemed reasonable enough, and because that was also the best way everything worked, even with friends. She'd learned that too after the A debacle had started, when she'd had to learn to deal with Hanna, Aria and Spencer in a whole different way to that which they were all used to when they were just childish, innocent friends who were basically subjected to Alison's strange moods and desires.

It was because she believed in bargaining and compromise that she was now trying her best at it, when it came to Spencer.

"Why do you assume I'm not going to do it?"

She looked at him in hesitation and distrust, trying not to get her hopes up after hearing his words.

He wouldn't do it for her. He'd do it for Spencer.

"You'd do it for Spencer", she voiced the voice in her head, "not for me."

"If I got you to like me, I'd possibly do it for you too."

What game was he playing now? Suddenly she felt too young and innocent to play.

He couldn't be possibly implying he actually liked her that much.

Wren gave her a cute smile that showed he was partly joking – and enjoying her confusion. He supported his head on the palm of his hand and funnily watched Emily again, as if considering all the pros and cons of the situation.

He finally decided to speak again, taking into account Emily's retreat into a shy silence.

"I'd do it for Spensah, you're right", he decided to come clean to her. "But I'd also do it for you, if I decided to do it, which I haven't decided yet. You've shown a lot of nerve coming here to ask and I like that about you, among other things."

Emily smiled a little smile, her own version of her cute, knowing, shy smile that was so different from his.

"When do you need me to tell you?", he asked, suddenly changing his position in the armchair.

She shrugged in response. She hadn't actually thought about when, since she didn't really believe he'd do it.

"I guess it's urgent", he insisted, "if you're so convinced someone wants to use it against you."

"I'd like to do it before school starts again", she offered, feeling suddenly so shy about asking him this.

Spencer was going to be done with community service in a couple of days.

School was starting again in a couple of weeks.

She figured that would be A's starting point again.

He suddenly stood up, and she immediately mirrored his movement, taking it as a cue to leave.

"I'll think about it and I'll let you know tonight", he said as he moved towards her. He stopped when he was in front of her. "Can you give me your number? It's for all the right reasons. And I guess you don't want me calling Spensah."

Emily shot him a funny glance (she could also do stuff with her brows, after all) and wrote her phone number on a piece of paper, which he carefully folded into his wallet. Then they politely said their goodbyes, and Emily left the office and the hospital to enter the bright, warm light of day in the parking lot. As she walked towards her car and took out her phone to call Spencer, she thought the conversation hadn't gone so bad. He wasn't probably going to do it, anyway; or maybe he would. He was a little surprising, to tell the truth. Everything about the conversation had been kind of surprising and unexpected. Here she'd been an hour earlier, thinking she'd have to play nice and sweet in order to turn around and leave empty-handed; here she was now, after being not only honest but blunt at his request, which had gained her, after all, the promise that he'd think it over. And somehow, something told her there was a chance he'd say yes, even if she wasn't completely sure as to why he'd actually do it.

Spencer picked up the phone immediately. She was waiting for Emily's call, and she wanted to know everything about the conversation, but Emily, as she started the car and manoeuvred out of the parking space, didn't tell her exactly how it'd been. The information about her little competition with Wren was better left out. It was something so private and absurd at the same time, Spencer didn't really need to know about it. Emily felt almost as if she'd played a romantic mortal combat with a significant rival, and she didn't totally approve of the strange feeling she got out of it. Almost as if she'd won the combat. Almost as if she felt proud and arrogant because she was better than him, in a way; in the most important way, at least. Whatever the reasons, she didn't say anything, and had to hang up on Spencer anyway when a police car appeared in the surroundings of the road she was going to take. They agreed to talk later, like they always did anyways, and Emily headed home.

She spent the rest of the afternoon and the evening helping Hanna and Ms. Marin decorate the house for Caleb's birthday tomorrow. When it was already late at night, she took her evening shower and went back to her bedroom, where she decided to check her phone to see if there was already a response from Wren. She'd been so relaxed after the conversation with him she'd kind of forgotten about her phone until that moment.

There was, indeed, a text.

But it wasn't from Wren yet.

"Poor little Em: you're being played. It's time to go visit Toby at Hearbreak Hotel, where you sent him in the first place. – A"

Her heart jumped and twisted and raced too at the words she read, but she immediately opened the attachment.

There was a picture. Well, of course there was. How could there not be a picture? That was A's favourite thing. And, of course, Wren was in it. He was smiling his half, little smile that said he always knew better, but he was always too charming to show off in a rude way. He was smiling to someone. That someone was Spencer. Well, of course it was: Spencer.

You couldn't really see her face, just her brown waves and a sight of her chin and her crooked nose, but you'd recognize the waves, you'd recognize the nose and the chin and the semi-pout anywhere, even if the light wasn't so good and she was giving her back to the camera, leaving Wren with its full attention and focus. You'd recognize her anywhere, even in the dark, even at a longer, impossible distance, even with a worse quality, even if it wasn't the back of her head but a hand, or a leg, or a foot that was there, a finger, a toe. Anywhere. Anyway.

When was this picture taken? And where?

A restaurant. Or a cafeteria. It seemed to be a public place. There were two glasses, a table. A fork in Wren's hand. A fork which meant food.

They had eaten food together.

Go kill them. Now.

She downloaded the picture to her laptop and amplified it, this time to look for other clues that were not blood or wounds in the back of the head of a person. It was definitely a restaurant. Wren was definitely smiling his charming smile to Spencer. Spencer's face couldn't be totally seen, although Emily could catch the trace of a smile too, the trace of a smile that stuck like an arrow reaching her shoulder and leaving her dumbfounded and in pain. You'd see her anywhere, anyway, you'd always know it was her, you'd always realize, you'd always, always, yes - yes - there was no doubt about it - no doubt - she'd never be so dumb, so blunt, so dumb to miss it.

She didn't get mad. Her eyes didn't fill with tears of rage. This was different.

Blood, not tears, came rushing up to her head, all at once, to a point the rest of her body felt limp and shallow. She could literally feel the smoke coming out of her ears. She could fry eggs on the top of her head. She could unleash a torment of fire right now and be cast in a movie as a natural disaster. She could be July and August at the same time, and cause a drought and become a desert and a locust plague.

She was Being Played. At Heartbreak Hotel. With Toby.

Toby, whom she'd sent there.

Toby.

All the same.

All this time, she'd been thinking she had to be careful and delicate about Spencer's heart. She'd gotten drunk and made a fool of herself because of Spencer's heart. And now…

But those were A's words.

A wanted to hurt them – always, always, you'd always realize.

A was probably lying, even if the picture was real. When? When had this happened? And why? Why was Spencer there?

Tears did come to her eyes now, but she fought them back, still in shock.

She closed her laptop and got up, heading in a rush towards the door. She ran down the stairs, almost flying while the smoke burned away everything that was left behind.

"Emily", she heard a voice calling her when she was already so, so close to the front door. "Emily, where are you going?"

She turned around and forced a smile to Ms. Marin.

"I'm… It'll just take me five minutes." Her voice sounded weird. Low. But not shaky. "I need to clear something up."

Ms. Marin wasn't in the mood for teenage heartbreak, though.

"Emily, you and Hanna have to understand you can't just leave the house every time you need to clear something up with someone", she warned strictly. "It's too late to go out. Can't you make a phone call?"

Emily's determination didn't flicker. She was so, so mad, her vision was X-rayed and she knew she'd get out of that door after burning Ms. Marin too, if she needed to do it.

"This can't be talked on the phone", Emily responded, not moving away from the door. "I need to talk to Spencer face to face."

Ms. Marin seemed to hesitate now, at least a little, at the mention of Spencer's name.

"Emily, you can't leave the house without telling me where you're going. You have to understand that."

"I'm sorry", Emily apologized. She actually understood. But nothing was going to stop her. "I was just… I need to clear something up with her. It'll take only five minutes to go to her place and back."

Five minutes was all she needed to throw the phone to her face, right? Then she'd be back to plan how she'd stab Dr. Kingston's smile with that same fork he was using to eat food in a restaurant with her girlfriend.

Ms. Marin's features softened up a bit.

"Hanna", she called out, and Hanna's blond waves immediately appeared on the door to the kitchen, from where she'd been listening to the exchange. "Hanna, you go with Emily to the Hastings'. I want both of you back in half an hour. If you take five more minutes you'll both be grounded and there'll be no birthday tomorrow and there'll be no weekend for any of you. Is that clear?"

Instead of protesting for being threatened with a punishment she didn't deserve, Hanna moved quickly to Emily's side and nodded to her mother in acceptance.

They both left the house almost running, Hanna trying to keep up with Emily's pace until they arrived to the car. They got in, and Emily started it without saying a word. The car sped up down the road in the direction of the Hastings'.

Emily sensed Hanna's questioning glances on her the whole time.

"What happened?", Hanna finally dared to ask. "What did she do?"

"Nothing", Emily answered curtly, but then felt guilty about it. "I need to talk to her first."

Was she being played?

Was A making this up?

She had to listen to whatever Spencer had to say about this before ripping her heart out with her teeth and spitting it out and throwing it to the sea, where it could never be found again.

"Is it that bad?", Hanna tried again.

"Han, I can't tell you now", Emily replied, forcing her voice to soften and sounding strained instead. "I need to talk to her first."

Then she remembered Hanna might want to break Spencer's legs, so she decided to offer a reassuring, soothing sign to her.

"It's not that bad", she continued. "It's just… I'm really mad right now. I can't say anything."

Hanna seemed to accept the sign and calmed down a little, following the road with her eyes.

Oh, Jesus, she was mad. She was mad. And she was jealous. And she was on fire. But she had to hear Spencer. Spencer wouldn't just do that without a reason.

For god's sake, she had given her father's pendant to her just some days ago! And it'd been her! It was her heart, and Spencer had said she'd take good care of it, and she couldn't just step on it and mess with it like it was some kind of stupid little thing. And she wouldn't. Not the Spencer she knew. The Spencer she knew. That was what she'd said to Wren. She knew her better than anyone. Of course she did. But somehow she hadn't realized, she hadn't seen it coming when Spencer said she wouldn't do anything about the HGH results.

Had she lied to her?

But this was Spencer. Spencer always did something. Spencer always acted on her impulses and ideas and meditations and crazy plans.

Spencer was the one who talked to Emily's coach about Paige's comments without telling Emily about it. Spencer was the one who talked to Mr. Fitz about Aria and Jason without telling Aria about it. Spencer did her own thing to protect her people. Spencer went solo when she thought it was necessary, when she had to have what it took.

Spencer had possibly done this to help Emily. That was what the Spencer she knew would do. That was what her Spencer would do, and Emily hadn't really seen it coming.

And the Spencer who kissed Wren, who was she?

Emily didn't know, wasn't sure - but she knew, she was sure.

She hadn't been played. Deceived, yes. Lied to, check. Treated as a child. A fool, a negligent, incompetent piece of swimming meat, yes. Humiliated while she believed she was actually both reaching an understanding and kicking Wren's ass, double check - double check - he had gotten fun out of it - a puppy, a toy.

But not played.

Not played and sent to Heartbreak Hotel to face karma next to Toby.

Suck that up, A. I know that even without talking to her.

Somehow she should feel better about it, but she didn't. The smoke didn't stop coming out of her head, and the image of Wren saying he liked her, that he wasn't the bad guy, that he wouldn't get in the way, that he couldn't really promise her he wouldn't try though, made her want to turn around and drive back to the hospital to kill him for real. At least he was in a hospital where he'd get the proper treatment and be saved.

Had he tried?

If there was a thing she totally disliked about being in love was jealousy. It was awful. It made her feel powerful without control, so vulnerable and insecure at the same time.

Had he tried? Of course he'd tried. He was Wren, the British conqueror who always, always tried his luck.

They arrived to the Hastings, where she parked the car in the driveway in a single driving move. Being crazily angry was actually good for her reflexes and her ninja moves. Maybe she should get angry more often. Maybe she'd be more efficient if she got angry more often. If she did, even A would fall tonight.

She turned to Hanna.

"Wait here for me."

Hanna nodded, while Emily got out of the car and steadily walked to ring the bell to the Hastings.