Thank you to potterjay92, nick2951, RHatch89, and Guest for reviewing, and to GMWfan23 for following. I appreciate your kind words as usual! Please, please review this chapter as well to let me know what you think. I really enjoy hearing your thoughts on the dollhouse and what is going on, and this is quite an exciting chapter.

Chapter 57

I'm out of bed the second I hear the click of the generator, pulling on the same plain shoes I've worn since I got here and rushing into the hallway just as the four others are all doing the same.

"Let's go," Aria says, tugging on Hanna's arm, and I'm about to start running when Spencer begins speaking.

"Chandelier's rituals, sister launched lair, a ruler's list chained. They're all anagrams for Charles DiLaurentis."

"Whoa, slow down," I interrupt, pretty sure that she just spoke a different language. "What are you talking about?"

"We found a piece of paper with those phrases in Mona's room," Spencer explains as we all follow her into the game room. "We couldn't figure out what they meant. Charles must have planted it there." She goes on before I even have time to comprehend this. "Some of the toys in Ali's room were hers, but some of them were his. I feel like they grew up together. If I'm right, everything that matters most to Charles is in this vault. If we get in, we can use what's inside to bargain our way out."

I wish my brain worked as fast as hers. I shake my head, impressed, but Emily looks doubtful. "But Mona said we won't make it to the vault before the power comes on."

Spencer pauses, mouthing something, and smiles. We're standing right outside of the game room. "If I'm right, this is as far as we need to go. I counted the steps from the vault to the prom room."

My head is starting to spin. "Of course you did," Aria murmurs, looking just as dazed as I feel.

"It's eighty four," Spencer goes on. "And that's just one hallway over. Coming back this way, it's eighty one steps. The vault is on the other side of this wall."

"Fine," I cut in, folding my arms. "But how does that help us? We still can't get in."

But Spencer's smile doesn't fade. She looks almost invigorated. "Charles disappeared like Houdini when Mona came into the room. So there's gotta be like a secret passageway, or a trapdoor or something."

I nod, the mention of my sister flooding fear through me again. I'll try anything if it means finding her. The familiar clicking starts up again just as we're walking into the child-like playroom, and a moment later the shrill alarm begins to blare.

I duck down, pressing my hands to my ears, even though this has nothing on those screaming insults from that imaginary rooftop. "He knows that we're out!"

"Just help me move this!" Spencer yells. She's pushing against the bunk beds, and we run over to join her. I throw all of the little strength I have left into shoving against the bars of the bed, but it's no use. It's too heavy.

Emily straightens up, rushing across the room. "There's something behind this," she yells above the alarm, running over to the large dresser against the opposing wall. She shoves at it, pushing it aside to reveal a vent.

I kneel down, skinning my knee against the floor and not even caring as I dig my nails into the vent cover, pulling it off. The second it's free, the alarm abruptly stops, silence taking over.

I straighten up, shocked. Why would "A" stop the alarm the moment we find the way into his precious vault? Almost like…he wanted us to find it.

"Go!" Spencer urges, thumping me on the back lightly. "Come on!" I shake my head, shooting back into reality, and crawl headfirst through the vent without letting myself think about what a mistake this could be.

I tumble into the vault and let out a breath. It looks just like Spencer and Mona described it, with an old-fashioned popcorn machine, projector, and framed pictures everywhere, all of a little blond-haired boy. Charles.

Charles DiLaurentis.

Spencer walks over to the projector and turns it on. A video begins playing on the screen in front of us, of Mrs. DiLaurentis with a baby and two little boys at what looks to be an apple farm. I stare for a moment, unable to believe this – Jason has a twin? – before Spencer reaches forward, ripping the film strip out of the projector and holding it in front of the light. It begins to burn, a small flame erupting and destroying the film.

I gape at her. I can't imagine having the guts to do something so crazy, but Spencer doesn't look the slightest bit scared as she glares up at the camera and declares, "Game on, Charles. We want Mona back."

Aria nods, a glint of enthusiasm in her eye. "Let's torch this place." She grabs a porcelain doll and holds it up to the flaming roll of film, setting it on fire as well. Then she drops it into the wooden crib in front of us.

I feel a rush of adrenaline as we all follow her lead, grabbing toys and throwing them into the crib, engulfing them in flames. The room grows hot, but I barely notice. It doesn't even occur to me that this is possibly an extremely stupid idea until Aria stops dead, her eyes widening at the growing fire. "Oh my god. Guys, what if 'A's' not watching us? What if we're the only ones here?"

The realization hits me like a bus. We're lighting a small room on fire. And we're trapped inside. "What do we do?" I cry, whirling around in search of an exit. "It's spreading too fast!"

Expressions of triumph turn to ones of panic as we spin around the room, desperately searching for something, anything to put out the flames. I will not die here. I have been through so much hell over the past few months that I refuse to let a stupid mistake of our own get us all killed.

"Here," Emily yells, pulling at a thick curtain attached to the wall. "Aria, help me pull this down!"

Aria runs to join her, and I do as well, yanking down the curtain to reveal a window.

And "A" is standing right on the other side.

I scream, the sound ripping through my lungs as I leap back, away from the hooded figure. "Oh my god! He's watching!"

"Grab everything," Emily shouts, her eyes wide and frenzied. I realize her idea just as she says it. "The pictures, the baby clothes, and throw them in the fire."

"Say goodbye to your soul," Aria says viciously, and the next few moments are a blur. I lose sight of the figure in the hoodie, if he's watching us or not, as I tear around the room, grabbing handfuls of mementos and pitching them into the flames. The smoke is beginning to make my eyes sting and my throat burn, but I'm so filled with adrenaline that I don't care. I throw all of my fury into this, all of my desires for revenge, as I snatch up photographs of that little blond-haired boy and let them burn.

Sweat beads on my forehead, and I'm just realizing that we all still might very well burn to death in here when the fire alarm goes off, only sounding about half as loud as the usual awful alarm. Sprinklers descend from the ceiling.

The smoke is still so thick that I have to pause for a moment, coughing, before realizing that the alarm has triggered all of the locks to switch off. The door is open.

"Come on!" I scream, and bolt from the room without waiting for the others. They're right on my heels and we run down the hallway, everyone yelling above the alarm. I swallow hard and scream my sister's name as loud as I can, my desperation growing.

After a few moments, I force myself to go silent, straining my ears. "Guys, be quiet," I yell, and everyone halts. I hold up my hand and listen.

"Help me, please!"

The voice is faint but undeniably my sister. "This way, come on!" I yell, and take off in the opposite direction, the others right behind me.

"In here!" Aria points in the direction of a small, narrow doorway, partially hidden behind another wall. We squeeze through, and I'm instantly taken back to those horrible few weeks that I spent in this very room. My heart rate quickens at the memory.

The hole looms ahead of us, deeper than I thought when I was in there myself. It's a tiny room, surrounded by dirt, and I skid to a stop before I topple right in.

I grip the edge of the hole and lean over. Mona stands at least fifteen feet below us, her arms wrapped around herself. She's sobbing and shaking all over, her clothes dirty and her hair unkempt. I gasp. I've never seen her like this, not once, and I feel completely unsettled.

The other girls crowd around me, all of them crying out in alarm. "Please help me," my sister cries out through sobs, and I whirl around frantically.

"What are we gonna do?" I scream, my heart beating hard. Smoke is beginning to waft in from the hallway, and I cough, not even bothering to cover my mouth.

"Hang on," Spencer yells down, spinning around, her gaze sweeping around the room. "We're gonna get you out, okay?"

It's Emily who lurches forward, grabbing a rope from a hook in the corner. "Use this!"

"Lower me down!" I yell, grabbing one end and rushing to the edge of the hole.

"Are you sure?"

"Hurry!" I grip it tightly with both hands as the girls grab onto the other end. Spencer nods, and I take in a breath, brace myself, and jump into the hole.

The rope burns my hands as I lower myself to the ground, feeling increasingly claustrophobic. My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest. Memories of the time I spent in here are rushing back to me, and my arms begin to shake so badly that I nearly drop the rope.

Finally my feet connect with the dirt, and I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Okay," I say frantically. "Okay."

"Please help me," Mona sobs desperately, grabbing onto my hand. "I can't climb it."

"I know," I say, pulling the rope further toward me. "You're gonna be fine, okay? Just…okay, come here." I loop the thick rope around both of our waists and pull it tight. My hands are trembling, and it takes me a few moments of fumbling before I manage to tie it into a steady knot.

"Okay!" I yell up, spotting four concerned faces peering down at us. "Go!" I wrap one arm tightly around my sister and hold on to the rope with the other as it goes taut. We begin to rise up, and I gasp, envisioning all of the ways that this could go horribly wrong, and probably will. I hold back a cough. Shouldn't the smoke be dying down by now?

But the rope holds, by some miracle, and considering we've both been starved and are probably very unhealthy weights, it takes only minutes to reach the edge of the hole. "Thank god," Aria groans, dropping the thick twine and wiping a hand over her forehead.

As soon as I'm upright, I undo the knot from around Mona and myself, letting it fall to the ground. "You're okay," I breathe in relief, hugging her tight and smoothing my hand over her hair. "You're okay."

But there's no time to stand around. The doors could lock again at any moment, and we have no idea if "A" is still lurking around here.

"Let's go," Spencer calls, looping her arm around Mona's shoulders. I do the same on her other side, and we rush down the corridor, helping her limp along.

The ladder leading to the silo and our freedom is only yards away. I hear voices yelling, voices that I vaguely recognize but can't make out, from the other side of the doors.

My heart seizes with about a million different emotions. I can't believe we're actually about to get out of here. I suddenly can't stand still, and run forward, leaving Spencer to keep my sister upright. All of the hunger pangs and exhaustion rush out of me, leaving only desperation and adrenaline. I have to get out of here.

Aria is already halfway up the ladder and I scramble after her, nearly pushing Emily right out of my way. "Help me open this!" Aria says, glancing over her shoulder, and I wriggle up the ladder beside her. Emily joins us, and we throw ourselves into the wooden doors until they fly open.

Aria shoots out first, and I tumble after her, out into the dark, fresh air. Stars shine above me – real stars in a real sky – and I stumble out, coughing on the sudden rush of air.

The other girls spill out around me, and I whirl back around, joining Mona and Spencer. We hold on tightly to each other, watching Aria run right into Ezra's arms and Hanna into Caleb's. Alison, wearing – shocker – the yellow top, runs to hug Emily.

I can't even begin to wonder why they're all here, or how they found us. Police sirens echo in the distance, growing closer, and a few officers push their way through the branches, making way for a creeping ambulance.

My breathing is shallow and the world is tilting around me, but for once I'm not worried. We're free. The police are here, we're out of the bunker, and we're free.

"Spencer!" a voice yells, and a moment later Toby emerges from the bushes. I look over at Spencer just in time to watch about a million emotions pass over her face as she releases us and runs to join him.

"Oh my god," I gasp, because that's the only thing I can think to say.

Mona has been holding onto me tightly, still shaking, but pulls away, her eyes widening. "Viola."

"What?" I ask, following her gaze. Then I feel my own eyes widening.

Justin is walking in our direction, gazing around. I can only stare at him for a moment before releasing my sister and running over. "Justin!"

"Viola," he gasps, and my arms are wrapped around him before I have time to think. He's hugging me back, breathing hard, but it's purely platonic, more out of comfort than anything.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in shock, pulling back to stare at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, with dark circles underneath, and his hair is rumpled. "How did you find us?"

"You're alive," he says, holding onto my arms and staring at me. "I can't believe it."

"How did you find me?" I repeat, unable to believe this.

He shakes his head, seeming to snap back to reality. "I couldn't stop thinking about that conversation we had the night you went missing. It freaked me out for weeks, you were acting so weird. And then when I heard about those other four girls disappearing a month later, I figured you had to be connected. So I came over to Rosewood and looked around, and I met up with the other guys. We came up with a plan, with that girl. Alison."

"Alison?" I repeat, my head spinning. "Wait. You actually – you actually cared enough to do all that?"

"Of course," he says, grinning lopsidedly. "I still care about you. I always will." And then he's leaning in, his hand moving to my shoulder, and so am I…

And then I leap back, dazed. "I'm sorry, I can't right now, I – I have to be with – where's my sister? I'll – I'm sorry." He's staring at me. I'm clearly making about as much sense out loud as I am in my head.

But I can't do this right now. I can't kiss my ex-boyfriend, no matter what he did to deserve it, while so much else is going on. I offer what is probably a strange smile, then turn and gaze around the clearing.

Mona is sitting on the back of the open ambulance, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders while a paramedic kneels in front of her, checking her vision. I rush over, wiping dirt off of my clothes. "Do you need assistance?" a man in uniform asks, placing his hand on my arm, but I shake him off.

"No, I'm fine," I insist, even though I still feel like I could pass out at any moment. "I'm her sister." I put my hand on her shoulder, just as I begin to feel my heart rate slow. I notice a phone in the hand of the officer and frown. "Can I use that? To call my mother? Please?"

He hesitates. "That's usually something handled by professionals."

"Please," I say again, more desperate than I realized. "I need to talk to her."

The officer looks uncertain, but relents, probably because refusing to let a kidnapped girl talk to her own mother borders a little too close to cruelty. He hands over the phone and I immediately type in the number.

"Hello?"

Tears rush to my eyes and I feel my throat constrict. I haven't heard my mother's voice in months. "Mom," I choke out, a tear falling down my cheek. "It's me."

There is such a long pause that I wonder for a moment if she dropped the phone. "Vi-Viola?" she stammers, her voice shell-shocked.

"It's me," I say again, laughing through my tears. "I'm okay. We're both okay."

I hear my mother gasp. "Viola. What do you mean, you're both – "

I take in a breath, knowing how much this is going to shock her, and say, "Mona's alive, Mom. She's okay. We were kidnapped, both of us, and the others, too. We just got out. We're okay."

I barely hear my mother's response.

I barely take notice of the sudden shout of, "Hey, there's another girl down here," that echoes up from inside the bunker.

And I barely see the girl with long, scraggly blond hair and a dirty yellow top as she's wheeled out on a stretcher, through that one thought, that keeps running on repeat through my had.

We're okay.

...

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