Hello, guys!
This is gonna be one hell of a chapter and there are a few things I wanted to address:
1. Some people are wondering why is Emily behaving like this. She's been through a lot and she wants to trust Alison, but can't find herself to, given Ali's erratic behavior in the past. There's a lot of trust to be built in here. Alison needs to prove herself in a consistent manner.
2. Mama Fields will come through.
3. Caleb and Alison's friendship would be wholesome.
Chapter 4 - I'm a Good Girl, I Am
Five Rosewood Students Rescued from a Captive "Dollhouse"
Trapped for months, they now face an uncertain recovery as the investigation unfolds.
Rosewood, PA — After a harrowing ordeal, five Rosewood students—Aria Montgomery, Hanna Marin, Spencer Hastings, Emily Fields, and Mona Vanderwaal—have been rescued from a hidden "dollhouse" facility located deep within Tyler State Park. Formerly presumed dead, Mona Vanderwaal was confirmed among the captives, while the others were wrongfully believed to be in prison on charges related to her apparent death. Their abductor, former officer Darren Wilden, was found deceased at the scene under unclear circumstances.
Wilden, previously thought dead, is now alleged to have staged his own death and orchestrated the students' abductions. Investigators have yet to clarify his motives or the extent of his "dollhouse" operation, though authorities are pursuing leads into possible accomplices or prior similar abductions. Rosewood PD has refrained from confirming whether Wilden died in a shootout or as the result of defensive action by one of the captives.
Eye-witness reports from the rescue site add a twist fit for a thriller: sources claim that Ms. Alison DiLaurentis—herself recently on parole under suspicion in Mona Vanderwaal's supposed murder—played a direct role in the recovery of the captives. DiLaurentis was reportedly seen aiding with the extraction, alongside four unidentified men, although the police have neither confirmed her involvement nor the extent of her assistance.
The five survivors are currently receiving medical care at Rosewood Memorial Hospital. The charges against them (excluding Ms. Vanderwaal) and Ms. DiLaurentis, have since been dropped, with Rosewood PD citing a commitment to thoroughly reevaluate the evidence leading to these wrongful accusations.
The fallout from these revelations has triggered resignations within Rosewood's law enforcement: Ms. Linda Tanner has stepped down, facing criticism over her role in the DiLaurentis case. Detective Lorenzo Calderon and Investigator Marco Furey are now spearheading an internal review, pledging transparency as they continue the investigation into both the abductions and police oversight that may have contributed to this tragic sequence of events.
The room fell silent as Alison left. Toby slipped out after her, prompting a raised brow from Spencer. Emily clutched the hospital sheet, trying to keep her emotions in check. None of her friends knew that her feelings for Alison still ran deep or about the night they'd spent together, and tonight was not the night to confess.
"Em, are you alright?" Aria's gentle voice cut through the silence, her eyes full of concern.
"I'm fine," Emily muttered, but her words felt like a flimsy shield.
"Fine? You don't look fine to me," Spencer noted, glancing at Emily's white-knuckled grip.
"Oh, for God's sake, Spencer!" Hanna shot back, crossing her arms. "In case you forgot, we just escaped the 'dollhouse of terrors'! None of us are fine."
"Emily," Mona chimed in, her tone unexpectedly soft, "you might not agree with Alison's choices, but she's trying to protect you."
"And how exactly would you know that?" Hanna challenged Mona, her voice laced with suspicion.
Mona held Hanna's gaze. "Because Alison and I...we're more alike than I'd care to admit," she confessed. "We don't always know what to say, so we act on our own, thinking it'll somehow protect the people we love."
Hanna scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You and Alison? Please, Mona, you're nothing like her."
Mona's expression darkened as she leaned forward. "Really, Hanna? I lied about killing Wilden to protect you and your mom. I'd do it again if it meant keeping you safe."
The room went still as Hanna looked down, her defiance faltering. Mona's words struck a nerve, reminding her of the complex bond they all shared.
"That was different," Hanna mumbled, her voice quieter.
Mona shook her head. "Maybe, but it's more similar than you'd like to think," she said. "Sometimes, protecting someone means making the hard calls — ones that no one else understands."
Emily's heart pounded as her gaze fell to the floor. The risk Alison was taking, especially now that the truth about the Jenna Thing might come out, was a weight pressing on her chest. But was that what love meant for Alison? Taking the blame alone, even if it meant losing her freedom? And was that a kind of love Emily could trust?
The tension in the room grew as silence settled over Mona's words. Caleb, standing a little apart, sighed, visibly annoyed by the ongoing back-and-forth between Hanna and Mona.
"Enough, guys," he interjected, rubbing his temple. "Do you all really have to do this here, now?"
Hanna shot Caleb an exasperated look. "We've all been through hell, Caleb! You don't just get to stand on the sidelines and tell us when it's enough."
He frowned, clearly frustrated but aware that pressing the issue wouldn't help. "Maybe tearing each other apart right now isn't the way out."
The words hung heavily in the air, and the group exchanged uneasy glances. Spencer leaned in slightly, trying to read Emily's expression.
"Em, maybe Alison thought you wouldn't want her to come if she told you," Spencer offered gently. "Or… that she'd lose you if she didn't come through somehow."
Emily's gaze remained fixed on her hands, as if the answer lay in the twisted fabric of her bedsheet. "I don't need Ali to rescue me. I don't want her risking everything. And if she's found guilty of the Jenna Thing… She could go to prison for real this time."
Aria nodded, her eyes empathetic. "I get it, Em. You don't want Ali to sacrifice everything for you, not if it means losing her all over again."
Mona stepped forward, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "Emily, Alison wouldn't be Alison if she didn't throw herself in the line of fire for the people she loves. She wants to make up for all the pain she's caused… maybe she just doesn't know how else to do it."
Emily glanced up at Mona, and for a moment, her expression softened. But her resolve quickly returned. "Well, maybe she needs to figure out a way that doesn't involve nearly ruining her life."
No one dared to argue with Emily this time.
As days passed, Alison's initial adrenaline high faded, replaced by a creeping sense of unease. The ordeal with Wilden and the dollhouse haunted her, even though she hadn't been inside. Her own time in jail, the endless weeks on the run, the years of keeping secrets—all of it weighed on her.
Sleep began to slip through her fingers. Nightmares followed relentlessly. In them, she couldn't save Emily and the others. Or Wilden hurt them while she watched, helpless. Each time, she woke up breathless, tangled in her sheets, the terror too real to shake off. When that happened, Alison found herself drifting downstairs to the kitchen for tea or curling up in her closet, the only space that felt safe enough for sleep.
Jason started noticing the signs. One night, he waited up until she appeared, slipping into the kitchen, her gaze distant.
"Ali?" he asked, setting his book aside as she shuffled into the living room.
Alison stilled, surprised to see him. "Couldn't sleep," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.
Jason studied her, worry softening his voice. "Nightmares?"
She bit her lip, nodding slightly but saying nothing.
Jason hesitated, then spoke gently. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know."
Alison glanced away, struggling to find the right words. Jason's gentle approach seems to offer her some comfort, but she remains guarded, still reluctant to open up fully about what she's experiencing. He respects her silence, aware that she'll share in her own time, but he knows she's holding onto more than she's letting on.
"Can't sleep again?" he asks, trying to break through gently. Alison gives a small, almost defiant shake of her head, clutching her cup a little tighter.
"It's nothing," she insists, though her voice lacks conviction. "I'll be fine."
Jason lets out a small sigh and sits across from her, leaning forward slightly. "You don't have to pretend, Ali. I know how hard it is to just…snap back after everything. I was worried too." He pauses, gauging her reaction. "You went through a lot, and not just in that dollhouse."
Alison's defenses begin to soften. She looks away, struggling to keep her composure, but her grip on the cup loosens. "I thought I'd be okay once it was over, you know? But it's like he's still there. Every night, it feels real. I'm still running from Wilden, or I can't…protect Emily."
Jason nods, his gaze steady and understanding. "Maybe it's time you talked to someone about it. You don't have to do this on your own, Ali."
Alison swallows, the weight of the suggestion pressing on her. "I don't know if I'm ready to do that." But even as she says it, there's a hint of resignation in her voice, as if she's beginning to accept that facing her trauma might be the only way forward.
Jason places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Just know that whenever you're ready, we're here for you. And if you ever want to talk to someone outside of us…well, I can help with that too."
Alison hesitates, clutching the warm mug in her hands as if it might provide some answer, some direction. She wants to snap at her brother, tell him to leave her alone—she's so used to handling things on her own. But there's something about the way Jason is looking at her, the worry in his eyes that won't let her pull away.
Finally, she sets the mug down, taking a breath. "I'm not sure what to say. I don't even know where to start."
Jason leans against the counter, crossing his arms. "Start wherever you want," he says simply. "But you know you don't have to keep it all inside. Not anymore."
Her chest tightens. He's right. It's exhausting trying to carry everything herself, especially now that she knows how much the people she cares about are willing to help. But the fear—the fear of being too much, of breaking down too much—keeps her from saying the words that threaten to spill out.
Alison finally looks at him, the vulnerability in her eyes impossible to hide. "I don't want to drag you into all of this. I don't want to keep being the one who needs help."
Jason pushes off from the counter, stepping closer. "You don't need to carry everything alone anymore, Ali. You don't have to be the strong one all the time."
Alison's lip trembles before she can catch it. It's that moment of clarity she's been avoiding—she can't keep hiding behind the walls she's built. Jason's already seen too much, and yet, in his presence, she feels she can take that first step toward letting it go.
"I just don't know how to make it stop," she admits, the weight of it all pressing down on her.
Jason's expression softens as he reaches for her hand. "We'll figure it out, together."
The night after Alison opens up to Jason, she wakes up to an empty house. It's eerily quiet, the kind of silence that feels unnatural. Jason had mentioned the day before that he'd be running errands early, and the realization of being alone stirs a knot of unease in her chest.
Alison doesn't bother trying to fall back asleep. Instead, she heads downstairs, wrapping a blanket around herself. Her phone is on the counter, and she hesitates before reaching for it. She hasn't spoken to Emily since the night they returned from the dollhouse. The thought of calling her feels both necessary and daunting.
Her fingers hover over Emily's name before the sound of a car pulling into the driveway makes her freeze. She peeks through the curtain, expecting Jason, but instead sees Caleb stepping out of his truck. He's holding what looks like a takeout bag, and there's a casualness to his stride that Alison envies.
Opening the door, she raises an eyebrow. "Did you lose your way to Hanna's?"
Caleb smirks, holding up the bag. "Figured you could use some company and coffee that doesn't taste like motor oil."
Alison crosses her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "You're not exactly who I thought would show up this morning."
"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises," he replies, brushing past her into the house. "Where's Jason?"
"Out," she says, closing the door. "And you didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"
Caleb sets the bag on the table and looks at her with surprising seriousness. "Because, believe it or not, I know what it's like to feel like the world's stacked against you. And I know how much it sucks to deal with that alone."
Alison blinks, thrown off by his bluntness. She's used to Caleb's sharp wit, but there's a sincerity in his voice that disarms her.
"You're not exactly the 'talk it out' type," she says cautiously, sitting across from him.
He shrugs, pulling out two coffees and a box of pastries. "Neither are you, from what I've seen. But sometimes it helps to know someone gets it, even if they're not saying much."
For a moment, they eat in silence, the weight of the past few weeks hanging between them. Alison finds herself relaxing, the tension in her shoulders easing. She's not ready to bare her soul—not yet—but having Caleb there, filling the space with quiet companionship, feels like a start.
"Thanks," she says eventually, her voice barely above a whisper.
Caleb glances at her, his expression softening. "Anytime, Alison. Just… don't let it all swallow you whole, okay? You've got more people in your corner than you think."
And with that, he leaves, giving her a parting nod as he disappears down the driveway. Alison watches him go, the warmth of his words lingering in the air. Maybe she's not as alone as she thought.
Emily tossed and turned all night, unable to settle. The usual nightmares about the dollhouse plagued her, but tonight, her mind was also consumed by a fresh worry: Alison's decision to confess about the Jenna Thing and the very real possibility of her going back to jail. Emily clenched her jaw, determined not to let her discomfort show. She knew the nurses might give her something to help her sleep, and she didn't want to rely on them. The others had accepted the offer of a sleeping pill and rested peacefully, but Emily's thoughts kept her awake.
Pam, seated nearby, had been watching her daughter's restless movements. Unable to stay silent, she pressed the call button for a nurse.
"Mom!" Emily hissed, sitting up abruptly. "What are you doing?"
"Emmy, you're exhausted," Pam said gently but firmly. "You need sleep to heal. You've been through something unimaginably traumatic."
"I don't need a pill," Emily shot back, her voice strained. "I'm not some… fragile thing that needs to be knocked out to cope. I just—" She stopped, biting her lip as her emotions welled up.
"You just what?" Pam pressed, leaning closer. "Talk to me, sweetheart."
Emily let out a shaky breath, unable to meet her mother's eyes. "I'm anxious, frustrated, and—so mad. And it's not just about the dollhouse."
Pam tilted her head, concern deepening. "What is it? Please, tell me."
Emily hesitated before blurting, "Alison's planning to go to the police and confess about… something awful she did. Something we all knew about but didn't stop. Someone got hurt because of it."
Pam blinked in shock, leaning back slightly. "Something awful? Emmy… what are you talking about?"
Emily twisted her hands together, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Jenna Thing. Alison was the one who threw a firecracker inside their garage. We knew about it, but we didn't stop her. And then she made someone else take the fall."
"Who?" Pam asked sharply.
"Toby," Emily admitted, tears welling up. "Alison blackmailed him. Or at least she thought she did. But Toby… he went along with it to escape Jenna."
Pam's mouth opened slightly, her expression horrified. "Escape Jenna? What are you saying?"
"Jenna was Toby's abuser, Mom!" Emily revealed, her voice breaking. "Toby forgave Alison because, in a way, she set him free. But it was still wrong, Mom. All of it."
Pam shook her head slowly, struggling to process the fact that Toby was being abused by Jenna, that Alison was the one who blinded Jenna, and that her daughter knew all of this but chose to keep it a secret. "Emmy, this… this is a lot. I wish you'd told me sooner. But why is Alison reopening this now?"
Emily wiped her eyes, sniffling. "The police are digging into everything connected to Wilden being A. Alison thinks they'll uncover the Jenna Thing and wants to come clean first—to protect the rest of us. And because she feels like she deserves the punishment."
Pam frowned deeply. "Alison… wants to go to jail?"
"She thinks it's the right thing to do," Emily said bitterly. "But I can't—I don't want her to go, Mom." Her voice cracked as she added, "She's changed. She's not the same person she was back then."
Pam's expression softened, and she placed a hand over Emily's. "You want her to stay. For you."
Emily swallowed hard, nodding faintly.
Pam squeezed Emily's hand gently, her voice softening as she added, "Then you need to tell her that. Emily, she might not realize how much you want her to stay."
Emily let out a shaky breath, wiping her eyes. "What if it doesn't matter? Alison's so determined to make things right that she might not care about what I feel."
"Alison needs to know that her choices affect the people she cares about," Pam replied firmly.
Emily glanced at her mother, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "What if I'm too late? What if she's already made up her mind?"
Pam shook her head. "It's never too late to tell someone how you feel, especially if you're honest about it. Alison might be stubborn, but she's not unreachable. You owe it to yourself—and to her—to be upfront."
Emily nodded hesitantly. "I'll try."
Pam smiled warmly and brushed a strand of hair from Emily's face. "Good. Now, let me handle the nurses. You might not want a pill, but maybe some tea will help calm you down."
"Thanks, Mom," Emily murmured, her voice soft.
Pam stood and walked toward the door, but before leaving, she paused. "And Emmy?"
Emily looked up at her.
"I'm proud of you—for wanting to make things right and for caring so deeply. But remember, it's okay to lean on the people who love you. You don't have to carry this all by yourself."
Emily blinked back tears and gave her mother a small, grateful smile. "Thanks."
As Pam left, Emily leaned back against her pillow, her thoughts still a whirlwind but her heart a little lighter.
As the days passed, Alison decided it was time to visit her friends at the hospital. She wasn't sure what kind of reception she'd receive but knew it was something she had to do.
When she stepped into the room, Spencer was the first to greet her with a dry quip, "Nice of you to finally show up, Alison. I was beginning to think you'd gone back into hiding."
Alison smirked, a flicker of appreciation for Spencer's familiar sarcasm. "You wish."
Though still pale, Spencer's sharp wit and steady demeanor were reassuring signs that she was recovering.
Aria, perched on her hospital bed with a book in hand, looked up at Alison's arrival, her face lighting up. "Hey, Ali. I finished that novel you recommended. You were right—it's incredible."
"See? I told you," Alison replied, slipping into the flow of conversation. "I'm basically your personal librarian now. Let me know when you need your next pick."
Aria grinned, their shared love of books offering a momentary escape from the weight of recent events.
Meanwhile, Hanna's attention drifted. Though she greeted Alison politely, her eyes kept darting toward Mona, visible through a nearby doorway, receiving treatment. Her clipped responses made it clear her thoughts were elsewhere.
Then there was Emily. She barely looked in Alison's direction, her posture rigid and closed off. Every word Alison tried to direct her way was met with silence or a curt nod. The tension between them was palpable, and it stung more than Alison cared to admit.
Understanding that her presence wasn't entirely welcome, Alison decided not to linger. Rising from her chair, she bid the group goodbye, her gaze lingering on Emily for a moment longer than necessary.
But as she stepped into the hallway, Pam's voice stopped her. "Alison!"
She turned to find Emily's mother approaching, her stride brisk and determined. "Mrs. Fields?"
Pam stopped just short of her, slightly out of breath. "Be patient with Emily," she said, her tone both serious and gentle. "She's been through a lot."
"I know," Alison replied softly, guilt tugging at her heart.
Pam's expression grew sharper. "Then let me ask you something, Alison. What do you feel for my daughter?"
The directness of the question hit Alison like a freight train. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. "Mrs. Fields, I—"
Pam pressed on. "I know Emily still loves you, even if she's too stubborn to admit it right now. But if you're just going to leave her again, do it now. Don't drag her through more heartache."
Alison swallowed hard, her throat tight. "Mrs. Fields, Emily's feelings for me... they weren't one-sided. I'm trying to do the right thing by coming clean—not just for her, but for all of us. I want to be someone she can respect."
Pam's stern expression softened just a fraction, though her eyes remained firm. "Respect is one thing. Love and support are another. Emily needs someone she can count on right now—someone who won't run away when things get hard."
Alison nodded, her resolve hardening under Pam's pointed words. She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, her voice trembling slightly. "Mrs. Fields, I lo—"
"Don't," Pam interrupted firmly, holding up a hand. "Emily deserves to hear that from you first."
Alison's cheeks flushed, and she nodded quickly, her throat tightening around unspoken words.
Pam stepped closer, her voice low and serious. "And Alison?"
"Yes?"
"If you hurt my daughter again," Pam warned, her tone cold and steady, "you'll wish you were still in prison."
A soft chuckle escaped Alison despite the tension. "Understood, Mrs. Fields."
Pam nodded curtly and walked away, leaving Alison standing in the hallway. For a moment, she lingered, Pam's words echoing in her mind. Alison had no intention of failing Emily this time.
As Alison was leaving the hospital, she ran into another familiar face: Leona Vanderwaal — Mona's mother.
"Alison?" The other woman called her.
"Yes, Mrs. Vanderwaal?" Alison swallowed hard and answered. Although she had not killed Mona, that didn't change the fact that Alison had been a terrible figure for the other girl, making her resort to becoming A and tormenting the girls.
"I'm sorry for rallying at your house. I thought you had been the one who killed my daughter. I didn't expect her to be alive, yet you've found her," Leona apologized.
"It's fine, Mrs. Vanderwaal," Alison accepted the apology. "I know how it all sounded unjust. But I did what I had to do to save my friends. And I'm glad that Mona is alive."
The other woman nodded and went on her way, but now it was Alison who stopped her instead.
"Mrs. Vanderwaal, I'm so sorry for everything I did to Mona in high school," Alison apologized this time.
The older woman stepped back, seemingly surprised at her honesty. "I accept your apology, Alison, but it doesn't change anything that Mona has been through. You were a terrible person that made a lot of people unhappy as well."
Alison smiled sadly. She knew she couldn't undo all the damage she put Mona through or the other people she had damaged in her past. But she could try to be a better person now and make amends for what she'd done.
"You're right. I was miserable and tried to feel better about it by tearing everyone apart," Alison conceded.
Leona waited for some time before replying, as if deciding whether to tell Alison something or not.
"You know what? I've begged the school to investigate your home situation and maybe even get some social workers involved. They never listened," Leona revealed. "Maybe if they did, we would've avoided everything that came out of it."
Alison found herself imagining what it would be like to have someone intervene in her home situation. She knew she'd be stubborn and wouldn't want to admit that something was wrong. But she hoped that she would change in order to keep the friendships she had in her life—something she had valued deeply, but almost lost.
Leona was right. In a way, Alison had been let down by several adult figures in her life. That didn't excuse her behavior, because she should've known better. However, the adult figures in her life were supposed to guide her toward a gentler demeanor, not give her a pass for every atrocity she did.
Leona walked into the hospital as Alison walked out. They nodded at each other in silence, acknowledging that they couldn't change the past, but they could build a new future.
A few days later, Alison found herself in the parking lot of the police station. Jason had driven her there, though he wouldn't be allowed inside when she gave her statement. As her brother, he was still deeply involved in the events, but as an adult, Alison no longer required a legal guardian. However, he was there for moral support—something Alison appreciated deeply.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Ali?" Jason asked as he parked the car. "Things could get messy, and you might end up going to prison again."
Alison took a deep breath, weighing his words carefully. "It's better to tell the truth now before they find everything themselves and twist it."
Jason looked down, guilt shadowing his expression. "I should've come clean about what Ian and Garrett were doing at the N.A.T. club. I knew, but I was too high or drunk to say anything."
Alison placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Now's the time, Jason. You can't change what happened, but you can control how things go from here. We both can."
"I know," he replied softly. "That's why I'm supporting you. I know I wasn't a great brother before, but I'm different now. Whatever happens, I'll be here for you, Ali."
"Thanks, Jason," she said, her voice cracking slightly.
He nodded and got out of the car, walking around to the other side. "Let's go meet Veronica before you give your statement."
Inside the Rosewood Police Station, Alison felt the weight of every step as she made their way toward the conference room. The sterile air smelled faintly of coffee and floor cleaner, doing little to soothe her nerves.
Veronica Hastings was already there, standing by the table with a stack of neatly organized folders. Her sharp gaze softened slightly when she saw Alison.
"Alison," she greeted. "Ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Alison replied, trying to project confidence. Her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Good," Veronica said firmly. "Remember, you're here to tell the truth, not to volunteer information they don't ask for. Let me do most of the talking."
Before Alison could respond, the door opened, and Detectives Lorenzo Calderon and Marco Furey walked in. Lorenzo's warm, approachable demeanor contrasted sharply with Marco's no-nonsense attitude.
"Ms. DiLaurentis," Lorenzo began with a nod. "Mrs. Hastings." His tone was polite but professional. "Thank you for coming in. We understand you have information to share regarding past events in Rosewood."
Alison met his gaze, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "I do. And I'll answer your questions honestly."
Marco's expression remained unreadable as he sat across from her. "We appreciate your cooperation, but let's be clear—honesty comes with consequences."
Veronica interjected smoothly, her voice like a blade wrapped in silk. "Detective, my client is here voluntarily. Let's keep this civil."
"Let's start then," Marco began, leaning forward. "What happened the summer you disappeared, Ms. DiLaurentis? We've reviewed every file connected to your case, and it all seems to come back to you."
Alison straightened her posture but kept her expression neutral. "A lot happened that summer, Detective. You'll have to be more specific."
"Alison," Veronica interjected with a calm but firm warning. Her tone carried the weight of experience, cautioning her client not to antagonize the detectives.
Marco exchanged a glance with Lorenzo, who picked up the line of questioning. "Let's begin at the start. What were the circumstances leading to your disappearance?"
Alison hesitated, her gaze flicking briefly to Veronica. This was the moment she had both dreaded and longed for. A small, stubborn part of her clung to the idea that people were better off believing a lie. But that part was no longer in charge.
"I was receiving anonymous text messages from someone named A," she began, her voice steady.
Marco flipped through a file. "Your friends mentioned that name during their past statements. Turns out Mona Vanderwaal was behind it. Did you know that?"
"No, I didn't at the time," Alison replied firmly. "I believe I was the first to get those messages."
"When did you receive the first one?" Lorenzo asked, pen poised.
"Right after Halloween 2008," Alison admitted. "I had pulled a prank on my friends—made them think I was in danger. It was stupid and reckless. They were furious with me, and they had every right to be. But then the person who was supposed to help me with the prank backed out at the last second. Someone else took their place and really put me in danger, though I didn't know it at the time. That's when I got my first message."
"And who was supposed to help you?" Marco asked.
Alison's eyes darted to Veronica again before answering. "Noel Kahn."
"And the person who replaced him?" Lorenzo pressed.
"I didn't know," she admitted. "But I had a list of suspects."
"You didn't think to tell your parents or the police?" Marco's voice carried a hint of judgment.
"Detective, that's enough," Veronica cut in smoothly. "We're here for the facts, not judging."
Alison inhaled deeply before answering. "I was arrogant. I thought I could handle it myself. At the time, I… found it thrilling to outsmart this person."
"And what did you do to 'handle it'?" Marco asked, his tone sharper now.
"I schemed," Alison confessed. "I targeted who I thought was behind it."
"You're referring to Jenna Marshall's accident," Marco guessed. "I reviewed that case. Toby Cavanaugh didn't seem like a logical suspect."
Alison gave a slight nod. "He wasn't. I convinced him to take the fall for me."
Lorenzo leaned forward. "How?"
Alison's mind raced. She had promised herself to tell the truth, but exposing Toby's personal secrets wasn't her choice to make.
"You'd be surprised by how many people are still intimidated by me until this day, Detective" Alison said instead.
"Ms. DiLaurentis," Lorenzo interjected, his tone sterner, "you realize that admitting to targeting Jenna Marshall and framing someone could result in criminal charges."
Veronica intervened immediately. "Detective, my client is here voluntarily and has been fully cooperative. If there are further consequences, we are open to discussions."
Marco leaned back in his chair, closing the file. "I think we've got what we need for now. You'll hear from us soon."
As Alison stepped out of the station, her stomach churned. Every step felt heavier than the last. She knew the detectives wouldn't let this go. The truth she'd fought so hard to face might soon put her behind bars.
After the statement, Alison turned to Veronica with a request that surprised even herself. "Can you drop me at the hospital?" she asked quietly. "I need to talk to them. They deserve the truth—straight from me."
Veronica nodded, her expression softening for a moment. "Alright, Alison. But remember, keep your composure. And remember they're healing too."
The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. Alison's mind churned with everything she wanted to say but feared she might stumble over. Would they even want to hear her out? Or had she burned that bridge too many times?
When they arrived, Alison hesitated at the entrance. Across the street, a small souvenir shop caught her eye. On impulse, she walked in. She needed something—a gesture, a token. Among the clutter of trinkets and postcards, her fingers brushed against a small Eiffel Tower figurine. Paris and France had always been their thing, hers and Emily's. A flicker of hope kindled in her chest. If Emily forgave her, maybe—just maybe—they could go to Paris together one day.
Her footsteps echoed down the hospital corridor as she approached the room. She paused outside the door, clutching the figurine in her hand like a lifeline. Taking a deep breath, she stepped in.
The sight of her friends instantly eased some of her tension. Emily was sitting up in bed, her expression guarded but curious. Aria sat beside her, offering quiet comfort. Caleb and Toby stood near the window, their presence solid and reassuring.
Relief swept over Alison. Caleb and Toby had been through hell, too, yet they stood by her friends like rocks. Whatever came next, she knew they'd be there for Emily, Aria, Spencer, and Hanna while she faced the consequences of her actions.
The chatter stopped immediately as four pairs of eyes snapped to her. Aria's expression softened, while Hanna raised a curious brow. Spencer, still pale but composed, gave Alison a curt nod. But it was Emily's reaction—or lack thereof—that made Alison's chest tighten.
"Hey," Alison said cautiously, closing the door behind her.
"Ali!" Aria greeted warmly, setting her book down. "It's good to see you."
Hanna crossed her arms, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. "So, what brings you here? Decided you miss us?"
Alison offered a weak smile but didn't answer, her gaze landing on Emily. She was sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped protectively around her knees, her eyes fixed on a spot just above Alison's shoulder.
"Emily," Alison said softly, taking a tentative step forward.
"Why are you here?" Emily's voice cracked, a mixture of anger and vulnerability.
The question hit Alison like a slap, but she'd expected it. "I just... I needed to see you all," she said, her voice steady despite the lump forming in her throat. "They already know," Alison admitted, looking down. "I told them everything. About the Jenna Thing."
The room fell silent, tension thick in the air.
"You told them?" Aria asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," Alison replied. "It's the only way to fix this mess. For all of us."
"And what happens to you now?" Spencer pressed, her analytical mind already piecing things together.
"They'll probably arrest me," Alison said plainly. Her gaze flicked to Emily, who was now staring at her, wide-eyed.
"You're just going to leave us again?" Emily's voice broke, tears welling in her eyes. "After everything? After what we've been through?"
Alison stepped closer to her, hands trembling. "Emily, I'm doing this for you. For all of you. This... this is the only way I can make things right."
"You think this makes it right?" Emily snapped, tears spilling over. "You think going to prison fixes everything? We needed you, Alison. I needed you. And now you're just—"
"Emily, stop," Spencer interrupted, her tone sharp but compassionate. "This isn't helping."
Emily buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking.
"I'm sorry," Alison whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm so sorry for everything I've done. I just wanted to tell you that before... before I couldn't."
Hanna cleared her throat, breaking the heavy silence. "You better not let them lock you up for too long, Alison. We're not exactly great at staying out of trouble without you."
The small attempt at levity eased some of the tension. Even Emily let out a shaky, tearful laugh.
"Don't worry," Alison said, managing a weak smile. "I'll find my way back. I always do."
Alison took a step closer to Emily, holding out the small Eiffel Tower. Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke. "I wanted to give you this. It's… it's a promise. Once all of this is over, I'll find a way to take you to Paris. If you'll let me."
Emily's fingers tightened around the Eiffel Tower figurine as the room lingered in an uneasy quiet. She looked down at the gift, her jaw clenched as if trying to hold back words she wasn't ready to say. The vulnerability in her eyes was undeniable, but so was the wall she'd built.
Finally, Emily sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I need time," she admitted, looking at Alison but keeping her distance. "I need to figure out where we stand. And where I stand."
"I'll wait," Alison said, her voice filled with quiet determination. "Take all the time you need."
Emily nodded but didn't pick up the figurine again. Alison gave her one last look, then turned toward the others.
"Take care of each other," she said softly, her eyes lingering on each of them before settling back on Emily. "And take care of yourself, Em."
And with that, she turned and walked out, feeling the weight of what lay ahead.
A few days later, Alison was called back at the station. Unlike the first time, when she had tried to run away from the police, this time she came prepared: she sent a goodbye message to Emily and her friends and packed a bag of clothes just in case.
Marco chuckled when he spotted her and Veronica before leading them to a private room.
"I'm going to show you something. Pay attention to this." Then, he played a video on a nearby screen. It showed another interrogation room. Alison gasped in surprise when she recognized Toby in front of the camera.
"What's your name?" Marco asked in the video.
"Tobias Cavanaugh."
"Are you giving this statement in your free will, knowing it will be recorded and used as evidence by the Rosewood Police Department?"
"Yes," Toby replied, staring boldly at the screen. "I am aware of it and I asked for it to be recorded and used as evidence."
"Why are you giving this statement?"
"Because I want to clarify a few things regarding my stepsister's accident."
Alison's breath hitched. Toby talked to the cops about the Jenna Things. She wondered if he had said anything that contradicted what she said and thus put her on the line.
Well, what are a few more years in jail anyway?
"Are you aware that Ms. Alison DiLaurentis gave a statement on that matter and that your statements could be compared as a matter of law?" Marco asked.
"Yes," Toby nodded and then added, "Alison has omitted a few things through no fault of her own."
"Why would she do that?"
"She was trying to protect me," Toby replied.
Veronica stared at Alison, as if trying to make sense of his words. Alison shook her head as well, indicating that she had no idea what Toby was talking about.
"Just like she did at the night of The Jenna Thing?" Marco pressed.
"Kind of," Toby shrugged off.
"Why don't you start at the beginning?"
"My step-sister, Jenna Marshall, was my abuser," he stated.
Alison could see the tension in his jaw. She admired how strong Toby was for standing in the middle of an interrogation room and revealing the abuse he went through at the hands of Jenna.
Marco chuckled, "I'm sorry, but this is hard to believe, Mr. Cavanaugh. You're much stronger than Ms. Marshall and should've been able to stop any attempts of sexual behavior coming from her."
Alison wanted to punch Marco for being such a jerk to Toby. And, from what she saw on the screen, Toby was trying hard not to react aggressively. He was clenching his fists and kept moving his fingers.
"Detective, Ms. Marshall told me that, if I refused to have sex with her, she was going to tell my dad and her mom that I was the one forcing myself on her," Toby replied. "I was manipulated by that and had no way out at the time."
"Is there any evidence of that?" Marco asked instead.
"Unfortunately, there is," Toby said. "There was a creepy club hellbent on filming everyone."
"Do you know who was part of this club?"
"Ian Thomas and Garrett Reynolds."
"All conveniently dead, huh?"
"They got what they asked for, if you asked me," Toby replied nonchalantly.
Marco smirked, seemingly wanting to agree despite not being able to since they were still recording Toby's statement, "Anyway, what happened at the night of Ms. Marshall's accident, Mr. Cavanaugh."
Toby stared straight at the camera, "Alison knew what Jenna was doing to me. She was at Emily Fields' house that night when she saw Jenna force herself on me. I think Alison wanted to throw a stink bomb inside my garage to scare Jenna away from me. But she had no idea that it was actually a firework instead."
Marco nodded and pulled some notes, "According to the police report, you came out of the garage carrying your stepsister in your arms. Why would you help her when she was your abuser in the first place?"
Toby just shrugged it off, "Because I don't like to see anyone get hurt, regardless if they're bad or not. But it doesn't change the fact that I resent Jenna for what she's done to me. I may not want her dead, but I want her far far away from me."
"And after that? Was that when Ms. DiLaurentis convinced you to take the fall for a crime you didn't commit?" Marco pressed.
"No. Alison was distraught by what happened. She felt really guilty about it," Toby said. "Then, I told her I would take the fall for it because it would be an opportunity to go away from Jenna."
"And Ms. DiLaurentis just let you take the fall for it?" Marco asked in a skeptical tone. "In her statement, she claimed that she intimidated you."
"She only said that because she didn't want to out my secret," Toby argued, lying straight to the camera.
It was as if Toby was standing right in front of her, looking her straight in the eye. Toby was lying to the police to save her. It would be another crime in their long list of misdemeanors. She wondered why he had done that to save her when she had basically wrecked his life.
"She also claimed that she had targeted Ms. Marshall because she had believed she was A", Marcon pointed out.
"Could've been an extra motive," Toby shrugged off. "Can't say I haven't been there myself."
"So, Mr. Cavanaugh, you're claiming that Ms. DiLaurentis mistakenly threw a firecracker inside your garage to scare Ms. Marshall away from you because she was abusing you? And then you decided to take the fall for it because you wanted to be away from your abuser?" Marco repeated the story to confirm it on tape.
"Yes, Alison was trying to protect me from Jenna and I took the fall for it because it was my way out from living with Jenna," Toby confirmed the story.
"Very well, thank you for your time."
Marco stopped the recording. Veronica and Alison exchanged flabbergasted glances—neither of them had expected Toby to cut in and share a new version of events.
"As you still put Ms. Marshall in danger, you'd have to do community service to pay for that accident. But, as you've already been wrongfully convicted, the prosecution has decided that you're free to go, Ms. DiLaurentis," Marco announced.
Alison let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She would not be going back to jail. She would be there for her friends.
But, mostly, she would be there for Emily.
Thoughts? Kudos for Alison not going to jail this time!