Hello, guys!
Here I am with a new fic for you! This one is a do-over of the Dollhouse Arc, focusing more on Emily and Alison's recovery journeys, both as individuals and as a couple. I've made several changes to the plot, so beware. This is basically canon divergent starting from 5x25.
Once again, this is not an action-packed story and it's not a thriller either. It's a story focused on the healing journey of two of our favorite characters.
Mature themes ahead, so beware.
Chapter 1 - Welcome to the Dollhouse
Emily woke up feeling like her brain was stuck in molasses. Her body felt heavy, her limbs sluggish. It was a strange, distant sensation, as if she wasn't fully connected to herself.
She tried to blink away the grogginess, her head pounding with a dull ache. Her mind struggled to catch up, but something was wrong. Very wrong.
She inhaled sharply, the breath feeling strange in her lungs. Her first thought was of Alison, of Rosewood, of jail. She'd fallen asleep there… right?
But this wasn't a jail cell. The mattress was too soft, and the air didn't smell of cold cement. Her brain, still foggy, fought to put the pieces together. Was it all a dream? Maybe she'd wake up and everything would be normal. She blinked again, trying to clear her vision.
But then she looked down, and the orange jumpsuit came into focus.
Panic flooded her system, jolting her into full awareness. The memories hit all at once—being transferred, the gas filling the van, A's trap.
She threw the covers off and stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping as her legs wobbled beneath her. Her heart raced, but her body felt weak, still shaking off the effects of whatever she had inhaled. She swayed for a moment, steadying herself against the bedpost.
She looked around. The room was a perfect replica of hers—but this wasn't home. A had recreated every detail. How long had they been watching her?
Ignoring the wave of nausea, Emily moved to the door and tried the handle. Locked. Of course. Her fingers fumbled against it as she yanked and pulled, but the door didn't budge. Her arms felt like lead, and she could barely gather the strength to pull harder.
"Please," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper at first. "Open up!" she yelled, but the words felt weak as they left her throat.
A sudden ringing noise filled the air. Emily jumped, startled, her pulse quickening even more. She spun around just in time to see a computer screen flicker on in the corner. Its light made her head throb harder, but she squinted at the images.
Four screens. Four bedrooms. Four captives.
She saw herself. Aria. Spencer. Hanna.
They were all here. All trapped.
The nightmare wasn't over. It had only just begun.
Emily's breath came in shallow gasps as she stared at the four screens. The images of her friends, each locked in their own bedrooms, flickered like ghosts on the computer. Her fingers trembled as she brushed her hair back, trying to fight off the dizziness that still lingered from the drugs.
"Okay, okay… think," she whispered to herself, trying to calm the rising panic.
Her heart hammered in her chest, her pulse loud in her ears. The room felt too small, the air too thick. She could feel her body fighting to catch up to the reality she was living in, but her mind kept swirling back to the familiar thought—the one that always lingered in the back of her mind whenever things got too hard.
Alison.
The name stuck in her throat like a lifeline and a curse all at once. Her thoughts circled back to her, the guilt heavy on her chest, like a weight she hadn't managed to let go of since everything fell apart.
If Alison was here, she'd know what to do. She'd always been the strong one, the one who could stand up against A when the rest of them couldn't breathe under the pressure. She'd be able to handle this nightmare.
But then Emily remembered. It was their own fault that Alison wasn't here.
She'd believed the lies. She'd let herself think that Alison was A, that she had betrayed them all. She had been a part of the reason Alison had gone to jail. She had thrown her away— the one she loved—just like that.
And, now, Alison wasn't here to help them.
Emily stumbled back to the bed, sinking onto it as the panic fully overtook her. Her hands clutched the edge of the mattress, trying to steady herself, but the walls felt like they were closing in.
The silence pressed against her ears, broken only by the occasional sound of her friends on the other screens—Hanna pacing, Spencer inspecting every corner of her room, and Aria's lips moving as if she was talking to herself.
Emily blinked, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill over. She couldn't lose it now. Not when her friends needed her. Not when Alison wasn't here.
But it hurt — God, it hurt.
She hadn't been able to sleep for days leading up to this. The guilt had gnawed at her, keeping her awake at night, replaying the moment when she'd testified, the moment when the handcuffs had clicked around Alison's wrists, and the look of betrayal in her eyes.
If only she had trusted Alison, maybe things would've been different. Maybe they wouldn't be in this mess.
Emily pulled her knees up to her chest, curling in on herself, trying to block out the thoughts, the what-ifs. But they clawed at her, merciless, leaving her breathless.
Then, a mechanical voice broke through the silence, like something out of a dystopian nightmare.
"Welcome to the Dollhouse," it said.
Emily flinched, her heart pounding. She wasn't alone. "Where are we?" Aria's whisper cut through the confusion, and only then did Emily realize they could all hear one another.
"Let us out, you freak!" Hanna's voice was sharp, her hand slamming against the computer screen. Emily was grateful for her brashness. At least someone still had fight left.
"You know I can't do that, Hanna," replied a voice that made Emily's stomach churn. It was familiar, too familiar, like a bad memory clawing its way back to life.
The screen flickered, and a figure appeared in the corner window. Emily's blood ran cold.
"Wilden?!" she breathed, disbelief in every syllable.
"No... no, this can't be right," Spencer's voice cracked, her mind fighting to reject what her eyes were seeing. "Cece killed you! We were at your funeral!"
Wilden's smirk was sinister, like a predator toying with its prey. "She almost got me, but I managed to fake my own death. Which worked out quite well—nobody looks for a dead man."
"We get it. You're alive and you're awful," Aria snapped, her voice tight with fear. "But where did you take us?"
"Don't you recognize it, Ms. Montgomery?" Wilden's voice was mocking. "These rooms... they're perfect replicas of your own. I wanted you all to feel right at home."
Emily's skin crawled. The thought of Wilden spying on her in her most private moments made her feel sick once again. "Where are we?" she demanded, her voice stronger now, fueled by rage.
"Welcome to the Dollhouse, Emily," Wilden taunted, his voice echoing through the room. "This is your new home... unless, of course, Alison decides to join you."
Alison. Emily's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't done with her either. "Where is Ali?" she hissed, panic lacing her words.
"She's not here... yet," Wilden replied smoothly. "There have been... complications. But don't worry, she'll be joining you soon."
Suddenly, another window appeared on the screen, and Emily's breath caught in her throat. A frail, beaten figure stared back at them.
"Mona!" Hanna screamed, her voice breaking with both anger and relief. The girl they had thought dead was alive — only barely.
"Revenge has a price," Wilden sneered. "Her vendetta against Alison landed her in a cell. Not easy to get her out, even with my connections. But Mona's already been punished enough."
"Stay away from her!" Hanna shouted, fists slamming into the screen once again.
"You know what, Hanna?" Wilden smiled darkly. "Maybe you do want a taste of what your mother had."
Hanna swallowed hard, visibly frightened. Emily understood what Wilden meant and began to look for things she could drag to the entrance so she could barricade the door. But, as she suspected. Wilden had drilled the furniture to the floor.
"No," Mona protested weakly. "You haven't punished me enough for taking your precious Ali away from you."
"Oh, but this will be punishment for you too, Mona," Wilden replied. "Because there's nothing you can do to stop me."
Suddenly, all the screens turned black. Panic surged through Emily as the silence enveloped her; she could no longer hear the girls' voices. The fear that Hanna might be in danger snapped her into action.
"Help! Somebody, please!" she screamed, her voice raw with desperation. She dashed toward the door, adrenaline fueling her as she kicked at it with all her strength. Each impact sent a jolt through her leg, pain radiating through her foot and knuckles as she punched and kicked until her hands were bruised and raw.
The cold metal didn't yield beneath her touch, and the emptiness of the space around her amplified her cries. But no one came to help. No one could save them now.
Alone in her jail cell, Alison had no idea of the horrors her friends were enduring, but she wasn't faring much better. After her trial, hope had slipped through her fingers like sand. Somehow, she had convinced herself that she and her friends could outsmart A and prove her innocence (which eventually would become theirs) in Mona's death. Reality had shattered that illusion.
Her fellow inmates despised her, not only for the label of cold-blooded killer but also for the jealousy her looks inspired. This left Alison with a growing list of enemies—ruthless women who weren't shy about attacking her in ways that left no marks for the wardens to complain about. Not that the wardens would protect her to begin with; they seemed indifferent to her suffering.
In the police narrative, Alison was the rich mean girl who got caught and will pay for her crimes accordingly.
Yet, in a strange way, Alison felt numb to the pain. Her bruised body bore silent testimony to the hits she endured, but she barely registered them. The prison food was as unappetizing as it was scarce, yet Alison had survived on the streets and knew how to go days without a meal. She ate only enough.
Nights were the hardest. Lying on the hard cot, she stared at the ceiling, lost in thoughts of lost opportunities. The weight of regret settled on her, especially for pushing Emily away when they were younger. If only she hadn't been so weak… What might their lives have looked like had she chosen differently in the locker room that day? A part of her whispered that their relationship would have crumbled under the weight of her toxicity, yet another part clung to the hope that they could have faced any challenge together and that Emily's love would have redeemed her
Emily was the only person Alison had ever truly loved, a truth that took her far too long to acknowledge. The memory of their night together was her sole lifeline to sanity. Sometimes, she could almost feel Emily's smooth skin under her fingertips, the warmth of their bodies entwined. They hadn't ventured far beyond dry humping, yet the way Emily had curled into her felt like home—a fleeting moment that had ended all too soon.
Those cherished thoughts would lull her into a fitful sleep. Her lawyer often urged her to hold onto hope that proof of her innocence would emerge, but Alison knew the game was over. Her friends were scattered, each imprisoned in distant corners of the country (or so she thought), deemed too dangerous for contact.
Her monotonous days of gray and boredom were suddenly shattered when Toby, Ezra, and Caleb showed up for an unexpected visit. Alison hadn't anticipated seeing any of them, especially since she knew how much they all resented her — well, maybe except for Ezra.
"Wow," she said dryly, glancing at the handcuffs on her wrists and ankles. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
They stared at her in silence, their eyes dark and serious, and it made her uneasy. Caleb was the first to break.
"Cut the crap, Alison!" he barked, his voice strained with urgency. "Tell me where they are!"
Alison blinked, startled by his aggression. "Where are who?"
Caleb's fist slammed down on the table, making her flinch. "Hanna, Aria, Spencer, and Emily! Where are they?!"
Her confusion deepened. "Definitely not in my jail cell," she replied with a nervous chuckle, the tension in the air thickening. "Believe me, I've looked for them everywhere."
Before she could say more, Caleb lunged forward, his anger boiling over. "Stop with the mind games!"
Ezra quickly pulled him back, keeping him from doing something rash. "Caleb, calm down! She clearly doesn't know."
Alison's eyes narrowed. "What don't I know?"
Toby finally spoke, his voice low and grim. "Alison, A kidnapped the girls. We don't know where they are."
Alison leaned back against her chair, dread pooling in her stomach as the weight of Toby's words settled over her. "What?!"
"We don't know what happened," Toby continued, his voice tense. "The van they were in was hacked. The wardens driving them were drugged, and the girls—they just vanished. No leads, no trail. It's like they disappeared into thin air."
"Oh my God," Alison gasped, her hands instinctively flying to her face, the cold metal of the handcuffs pressing against her skin. A million thoughts raced through her mind, none of them making sense.
"We're running out of time," Caleb snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Tell us where A took them!"
"I have no idea where A took them!" Alison shot back, her voice shaking with fear and frustration. "Do you honestly think I'd let them suffer like this?"
"The police haven't released anything to the media yet," Ezra added, his voice softer now. "And they don't have any leads."
"That's why we came to you," Toby said, his blue eyes locking onto hers. "We thought you might know where A could've taken them. You're our last hope."
"I don't know," Alison answered, her voice shaking with dread.
"See?!" Caleb threw his hands up in frustration. "We're wasting time here!"
But Ezra leaned in closer, his eyes pleading. "Alison, think. Is there anywhere that could be symbolic to A? Somewhere that would make sense?"
Alison's mind raced. There were countless places tied to A's twisted games — Rosewood High, her old house — but nothing fit. No matter how hard she tried to connect the dots, the answer remained frustratingly out of reach. Then, an unsettling realization dawned on her. She leaned forward, her voice lower, more deliberate. "I don't know the exact location. But I have a feeling… A took them to reach me."
Toby furrowed his brow, clearly intrigued. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it," Alison replied, her pulse quickening as her theory solidified. "A has always been obsessed with me — ever since the beginning. But now that I'm locked up, A can't touch me. They can't mess with my life or use their usual tricks." She paused, her mind churning. "So, the next best thing? They go after the people I care about. That's how A works — by making everyone around me suffer. And right now, that means the girls."
Ezra and Toby exchanged a glance, considering her words. It made sense. It was classic A—ruthless, calculating, always pulling strings from the shadows.
"But why now?" Ezra asked, frowning. "What's changed?"
Alison shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe A is running out of time, or maybe they think this will push me into doing something reckless. Either way, they're using the girls as leverage."
"Fine, we'll sneak you out of here and offer you to A as a sacrifice," Caleb snorted, half-joking, but the tension in his voice was clear.
Alison locked eyes with him, her expression serious. "Believe me, I'd give myself up to A if it meant keeping them safe."
"You did anything but keep them safe!" Caleb shot back. "They're in this mess because of you!"
She swallowed hard, knowing he was right. The girls would've been much safer if they had never met her.
"I know," she replied, her voice shaky. "I'd give up everything to save them now. But I can't. My hands are literally tied."
The boys fell silent, frustration etched on their faces as they stared down at the table. Alison felt their pain; she knew they loved their friends just as fiercely as she loved Emily. It was gut-wrenching to think of her Mermaid out there in A's clutches while she could do nothing to save her.
"Do we really have nothing?" Alison asked again, grasping for hope.
"I tracked down the IP address that hacked the van," Caleb said, his tone shifting slightly. "It's from a random location in the middle of Tyler State Park."
Alison frowned. It was likely A had spoofed the IP address, but it was also possible they'd taken the girls to their lair. It was worth checking out.
"Have you followed that lead?"
"Didn't you hear me? A probably spoofed their IP!" Caleb replied, frustration creeping into his voice.
"Try to hack into it," Alison suggested. "Maybe we'll find something useful."
"What are you thinking?" Toby asked, struggling to keep up with her train of thought.
"That if I were abducting four people, I'd hide them somewhere remote — definitely not in a friendly neighborhood," Alison deduced, her mind racing.
Ezra nodded, "That's a valid point."
"Fine, I'll check it out," Caleb conceded, though his reluctance was evident. "But don't expect too much."
"It's worth a try," Toby added, encouragingly.
"Meanwhile, try to find evidence that could get me out of here," Alison urged. "A will be on the move, and I can help you more from the outside."
"We're working on it, but we still can't find your alibi," Ezra replied, his brow furrowing. "I've checked every camera in town."
"Keep me updated," Alison said as the boys prepared to leave.
"We will," Toby promised, looking back at her.
As they exited the visit room, Alison felt a whirlwind of emotions—dread and fear for her friends, but also a new fire igniting within her. She had lost her fight when she was convicted, but now, that fire burned back to life, fueling her determination to save her friends once more.
Back in the cramped motel room they were using as a makeshift base, Caleb sat hunched over his laptop. His fingers moved with precision as he dug through layers of firewalls and encryption linked to the IP address that had hacked the van. Alison's suggestion was simple and it had annoyed him. Of course the address had been spoofed… or had it?
Toby and Ezra hovered nearby, their nerves frayed from hours of waiting. The pressure was mounting with every passing second, knowing their girlfriends were out there somewhere—scared, alone, and in danger.
"Any luck?" Toby asked, leaning against the wall.
Caleb didn't respond immediately. His focus was locked onto the screen, eyes flicking back and forth as code scrolled across it. "I'm almost through," he muttered, his fingers flying over the keys, surprised that it was actually working. "But something's off about this. It's... too simple."
Ezra frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It should've been harder to break through this encryption," Caleb said. "If A wanted to hide this, they would've used something way more complex."
Toby straightened, tension in his voice. "Are you saying—"
"—the IP isn't spoofed," Caleb finished. "I thought it was at first, but Alison is right. This is the real deal. A slipped up."
Toby and Ezra exchanged a look, both of them caught between relief and disbelief. "So, you're saying the girls are—"
"—somewhere near Tyler State Park," Caleb confirmed. "Now, I'm going to try accessing their surveillance cameras. If A left any trace, I'll find it."
After a few more moments of typing, Caleb's expression shifted, his eyes widening as a new window popped up on his screen. "I'm in."
Toby and Ezra crowded around him, watching as live and recorded camera feeds filled the screen. Caleb quickly navigated through them, skimming footage from the time of the abduction.
"Wait," Caleb said suddenly, freezing the screen. "There."
He zoomed in on one of the recordings. The image was grainy, but it clearly showed a van — the van — driving into a remote area near the park. "That's the van," Caleb said, his voice tight. "This is where they took them."
Ezra's eyes darted over the footage, his hands gripping the back of Caleb's chair. "Can you see inside the van?"
Caleb shook his head. "Not yet, but I can follow the van's route." He rewound the footage and began tracing the vehicle's journey, frame by frame. Minutes passed in tense silence until Caleb paused again.
"Wait," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
The camera had captured something else — someone else.
"Mona," Caleb breathed, his eyes glued to the screen. "She's alive."
The room fell silent as the three of them stared at the footage in disbelief. There she was—Mona Vanderwaal, unmistakably alive and very much not dead, as everyone had been led to believe.
"That proves it," Ezra said, his voice filled with a mix of shock and relief. "Alison didn't kill her."
Caleb's mind raced. "We've got enough to clear Alison's name. But more importantly, we know where the girls are."
Toby stepped forward, his jaw clenched with determination. "We have to move now. If Mona's alive, A must be planning something bigger than we thought. Let's go back to Alison."
The boys paid Alison another visit. She visibly relaxed when she saw them, her hope shining through. Maybe they had found the girls after all.
"You were right," Caleb said begrudgingly. "That IP address was legitimate. And more: there's footage that proves Mona is alive."
Alison staggered back in her chair, disbelief washing over her. She hadn't expected to hear that Mona was alive after all this time. It was hard to tell whether this was good news or not.
"After we leave here, we're showing this evidence to Tanner," Toby declared, his tone earnest.
Alison almost laughed at his innocence. Toby was a cop but still had no grasp on how things really worked—or, worse, how they didn't in Rosewood.
"You know what Tanner will say: that your evidence was obtained illegally," she smirked. "Don't waste your time. Just leak it to the press."
"Alison, we need the police to get the girls out of there," Toby argued, frustration creeping into his voice.
"And they'll be suffering while you waste time trying to convince Tanner that your evidence is legitimate, which, by the way, it isn't," Alison shot back, her tone sharp.
"Assuming we leak it to the press… what will you do about it?" Ezra asked, his brow furrowing in thought.
Alison's face hardened, her voice somber. "I'll turn myself in. It's the only way to keep the girls safe."
Caleb snorted, his displeasure clear. But it was Ezra who responded.
"Are you sure this is the only way out?" Ezra asked, a note of disbelief in his tone.
"With A, it is," Alison said with a sense of finality. "This will never end until I confront them. If I don't do this, A will never stop."
Caleb erupted. "Unbelievable! Hanna and the girls risked everything to find you, to bring you home. And now, you want to throw it all away by walking right into A's hands again?"
Alison's lips curled into a bitter smile. "I thought you'd be happy to see me gone."
Caleb glared. "I hate what you put Hanna through, but for some reason, she still cares about you."
Alison flinched. His words struck deep, bringing back the painful memories of her time with Hanna in jail. They had shared moments of vulnerability, but Alison still believed their connection was more a result of circumstance than any lingering bond. She'd hurt Hanna too much to ever think they could go back to what they were.
Toby's quiet voice cut through her thoughts. "Alison, Emily will never forgive herself if you hand yourself over to A."
Her heart lurched at the mention of Emily. Toby had always been observant, and he was right. Emily's feelings for her were the one thing that could make Alison reconsider.
Toby pressed on, sensing her hesitation. "After everything, don't you think you owe it to her—and yourself—to try?"
Alison stared at him, torn. Finally, she let out a quiet sigh. "Fine. What do you suggest?"
Toby leaned in. "Those bruises." He subtly gestured to the purple marks Alison was trying to hide. "Tell your lawyer. Get her to request a jail transfer, somewhere safer. That'll force A to make a move."
Caleb crossed his arms, his irritation evident but tinged with acceptance. "And I'll hack into your monitoring device, get you out when the time's right. We'll rescue the girls."
Alison's eyebrow quirked up. "Always the hacker," she teased, earning an exasperated look from Caleb.
Ezra, always the pragmatist, raised a concern. "It's a start, but we still need to track A. We don't know where they're hiding the girls."
Alison thought for a moment before speaking. "A has to get supplies, right? They're not going to the store like everyone else. If they're holding that many people, they're probably ordering large quantities online, somewhere remote. We can track them through those deliveries."
Caleb's expression shifted, intrigued. "Go on."
"If we can figure out where they're getting their supplies, we can trace the delivery route back to where they're hiding," Alison explained.
Caleb nodded, the gears turning in his mind. "I can monitor their IP address, spoof a delivery… We might be able to catch them off guard."
Ezra gave a small nod of approval. "It sounds like a real plan."
Toby stepped forward, his expression resolute. "I'll start working on the reports to get you out. Then we'll regroup and work from there."
Alison offered a tired smile. "And Toby?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for not letting me give up."
Toby's gaze softened. "You've changed, Alison. It's hard to admit, but you have."
Alison didn't reply, but the weight of his words stayed with her as the group filed out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
BREAKING NEWS: ALISON DILAURENTIS GRANTED TEMPORARY PAROLE PENDING JAIL TRANSFER
Alison DiLaurentis, one of Rosewood's most notorious figures, has been temporarily released from federal prison on parole, according to sources. Her attorney petitioned for the move, citing safety concerns after a series of violent incidents targeting DiLaurentis by fellow inmates.
In an unexpected turn of events, DiLaurentis will remain under house arrest until her transfer to a new facility is completed. Authorities have confirmed she will be electronically monitored during this period to ensure her compliance.
DiLaurentis, convicted for the murder of her friend Mona Vanderwaal, has consistently maintained her innocence despite overwhelming evidence suggesting otherwise. Vanderwaal's body, still missing, has left many unanswered questions surrounding the case.
Leona Vanderwaal, Mona's mother, expressed outrage at the parole decision. "This is a complete injustice," she said in a statement. "My daughter's killer is being allowed to walk free while we still have no closure."
Rosewood police have refused to comment on DiLaurentis' parole or on the whereabouts of her friends, Emily Fields, Hanna Marin, Aria Montgomery, and Spencer Hastings, who were also arrested in connection with Vanderwaal's murder.
Inside the dollhouse, Emily stared at the ceiling emptily. She had lost count of how many days they had been there. The endless cycles of fake sunrises and sunsets that A manipulated in the artificial sky above made time feel like a blur. Each hour bled into the next with no sense of beginning or end, just an eternity of emptiness.
Sometimes there was no food; sometimes there was no water. Some days were scorching hot, to the point where Emily thought Wilden was going to boil her to death. Other days were sheer cold, where Emily believed she would freeze.
She ran a hand over her face, trying to fight the growing feeling of despair. The dollhouse had become her prison—a meticulously crafted hell where every corner was a reminder of A's control. Emily had tried, on countless occasions, to break out. She'd searched every inch of her room for weaknesses, hammered her fists against the door until her knuckles bled, screamed until her throat was raw. Nothing.
The silence in her room was maddening. She wondered what was happening in the other rooms—what A was doing to Hanna, Aria, Spencer. Sometimes Wilden would let them hear him torturing one of them. Hanna had taken a huge part of it, mostly because she was trying to protect Mona. Hanna looked exhausted, her face showing purple marks. Mona, on the other hand, seemed thinner and thinner.
Emily could feel that Spencer and Aria had tried to protect her as well, trying to divert Wilden's attention from her. It had worked to some extent, but she could see how it was affecting her friends in the few times they had seen each other through a screen. Like Hanna, Aria also had a few bruises on her face; meanwhile, Spencer looked disheveled, pale, and unfocused.
As for herself, Emily could feel her body growing thinner and thinner. With the lack of food, she had lost all the muscles she had built in swimming. Wilden hadn't attacked her physically the way he did with the other girls, but he liked to torture her mentally, tell her what he would do to Alison once he had her in the dollhouse too. Wilden would let a ringing beep all night sometimes so she couldn't sleep. There were some bruises on her shoulder from where Wilden had pushed her against a closet to remind her of the time he ran her over with a car.
Emily didn't feel strong anymore. She didn't know how much longer she could endure this.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps outside the door pulled her back to reality. Emily sat up straight, her pulse quickening. The familiar dread flooded through her. Was Wilden coming again? What would it be this time—a twisted game, another test to break them, or maybe more of Wilden's sickening taunts?
Emily closed her eyes, bracing herself, as the door began to creak open. Wilden came in, grabbed her injured shoulder and rolled her around on the bed despite her protests. Then, he climbed on top her and snickered on her ear:
"You can fight all you want, but you're not gonna get away from this, Emily. None of you will."
"People will notice we're gone. They'll start looking," Emily protested against the pillow, panic surging through her body as she struggled against Wilden's hold.
He ignored her, "I have interesting news I thought you should know: Alison will be released on a temporary parole so they can transfer her to another jail. Maybe it's time for her to mee the dollhouse."
Despite her terror, Emily found the courage to scream, "Leave her alone!"
Wilden pressed her face against the pillow for one quick second and eventually released her. Emily was left desperately gasping for air.
"I can't wait until you're all in here, Emily. She's gonna be terrified of what I'm gonna do to you," Wilden snickered. "Especially since you're the one she loves the most."
That took Emily by surprise. She had no idea Wilden believed that Alison had been in love with her. But it could be another attempt to play with her mind.
"You're lying!" Emily accused.
"When I met Alison at Cape May, all she could ever talk about was you. How you were on the swim team, how you were the only person she trusted, and how she thought you were beautiful," Wilden revealed. "It sickened me, to be honest, to see such a beautiful girl like Alison waste her time with you. So, I had to do something about it. I put something in her drink, but her friend CeCe Drake whisked her away from me before I got the chance."
Emily thanked CeCe for looking for Alison at that vulnerable time, but also took her time to analyze what Wilden meant. He was obsessed with Alison. His game was to chase her, control her, and torture her.
And now he was using them as bait to attract Alison to her demise.
"I can't wait until the bitch pack is reunited in the dollhouse," Wilden smirked and left Emily alone again. Suddenly, the temperature in her room dropped and she was back to shivering.
Alone with her thoughts, she prayed that Alison would be spared from this nightmare.
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