Sara Shepard - Deadly

“Emily?” Heart in her throat, Spencer gazed down at the rushing water beneath, expecting to see a flash of Emily’s gold-red hair in the rapids.

Aria’s car roared up next, and she and Hanna jumped out and sprinted toward the bridge. “There she is!” Aria cried out. A board jutted out from the bridge; Emily was scrunched behind it. The wind blew her hair around her face. Tears stained her cheeks. She leaned over the water, her chest heaving.

“Emily!” Spencer screamed. “Don’t!”

Emily looked over at them, and her face crumpled. “Leave me alone. I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t!” Hanna screamed, crying, too.

Emily stared despondently into the rapids. “No one wants me. My family wishes I was dead.”

“They’re just upset,” Spencer urged. “They don’t feel that way for real.”

Emily pressed her hands over her eyes. “Like you guys haven’t been thinking about it? We’re as good as dead. Of course we want to end it all.”

Spencer exchanged a horrified glance with the others.

“Don’t you see what’s happening?” Hanna wailed. “Ali arranged for all of this. She was the one who sent those suicide notes from our phones to our friends and families, making it look like we wanted to kill ourselves. It’s so obvious , Em.”

Emily shrugged. “So? It still doesn’t change anything.”

“Yes, it does!” Hanna banged her fist against the bridge wall. “For months— years —we’ve let Ali manipulate us. We’ve let her make us think people we love are A. Aria lost Noel because of it. And Spencer suspected her mom , remember? Now Ali’s using the power of suggestion to make us think we should commit suicide—and we’re letting her. Are you really going to let her get to you like that?”

Emily peeked at Hanna. “But why would she want us to commit suicide? She already won by getting us sent to Jamaica.”

“Maybe she worries we’ll be acquitted,” Spencer shouted onto the bridge. “Or maybe she worries we’ll continue to investigate while in prison and find her for real. This is her safest option. We die by our own hands. She doesn’t have to lift a finger.”

Emily’s chin wobbled. “I don’t know if that makes sense. How could we investigate her in Jamaica?”

“I’ll help!” Melissa called out from a few feet away. “I’ll do whatever I can!”

Spencer gave her a grateful look, then turned back to Emily. “We need you, Em. We need to stick together if we want to beat A.”

Emily shut her eyes tight, overcome with emotion. “Guys . . .”

“Please,” Spencer begged.

Suddenly, finally , sirens screamed behind them. An ambulance pulled onto the embankment, and several men in EMT jackets jumped out. “Where is she?” shouted the first one, a young man with stubble on his face.

“There!” Melissa pointed to the ledge.

The EMT nodded, then conferred with the two other men who’d jumped out of the vehicle. One of them requested backup on a walkie-talkie. The second one started to pull medical equipment out of the car.

The first man squared his shoulders, wrapped a rock-climbing tether around his waist, and hooked one end of the line to a post on the bridge for stability. Then he inched onto the narrow ledge. “Come here, honey,” he said gently, almost lovingly. “You’re safe.”

Emily looked at him, her eyes wild.

“Take my hand,” the EMT begged. “Please don’t jump.”

“We need you, Em,” Hanna called out.

“We love you!” Spencer called.

The two other EMTs were stationed near the water, ready to take the plunge in case Emily jumped. The man on the bridge inched closer to her, the rope around his waist stretching taut. Emily didn’t move. Finally, he was close enough to wrap his arms around her. Emily crumpled into him, her face twisted with anguish. He lifted Emily up and slowly inched backward to the front of the bridge. When they were on solid ground, he gently set Emily on the grass. She was sobbing.

Spencer ran over to her and engulfed her in a hug. Aria and Hanna did the same. They all started to cry. “Oh my God,” Spencer said over and over.

“How could you have done that?” Hanna wailed.

“We could have lost you,” Aria added.

Emily was crying so hard, she couldn’t speak. “I just . . . couldn’t . . .”

Spencer squeezed her tight. Hanna wrapped her sweatshirt over her shoulders. One of the EMTs brought out another blanket and laid that over Emily, too. The man who’d saved Emily radioed that they no longer needed backup—the girl was safe. Then he sat down next to the girls and checked Emily’s pupils to make sure she wasn’t going into shock. He made no reference to who the girls were or what they were facing—maybe he didn’t even know.

Emily’s sobs dissolved into sniffles. All the girls clung to her tightly, as if they were afraid they might lose her again. Even Melissa joined in the hug, stroking Emily’s hair and telling her that she was going to be all right. Spencer took a moment to imagine what things would have been like if they hadn’t caught Emily in time. The breath left her lungs. It terrified her to even consider it. If one of them died, a part of Spencer would die, too. It was one small silver lining about going to Jamaica—at least they’d be going together. They wouldn’t be facing this alone.

Her thoughts turned to Ali again. Of course she’d planted suicide into all their minds. And look what it had almost done. Look at who it had almost taken. This bitch deserved to go down for all of this. Now more than ever.

Melissa headed back to the car, giving the girls a few minutes alone. A minivan rounded the bend, slowing at the sight of the ambulance. Spencer didn’t recognize the woman behind the wheel, but there was a faded ROSEWOOD DAY LACROSSE bumper sticker on the back. Spencer gasped.

“What?” Aria asked, looking at her quizzically.

“I thought of another way we could hunt for Ali,” Spencer said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

Aria frowned. “What do you mean?”

A chilly breeze swept down Spencer’s back. “I mean Noel.”

Aria’s face hardened. “What about Noel?”

“Maybe he knows something else about Ali. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything.”

Aria looked shocked. “You want me to talk to him?” Spencer nodded. Aria shook her head. “No way.”

“I think Spencer’s right,” Hanna said. “Maybe Noel doesn’t even realize what he knows. What if this leads us to her?”

“I’ll do it, if you don’t want to,” Spencer volunteered. “I wouldn’t mind giving that jerk a piece of my mind.”

Aria lowered her eyes. “He’s not a jerk,” she said quietly, almost automatically. She sighed. “I can handle it. But only if Emily—and the rest of you—never stand on the edge of a bridge again. Losing you guys is way worse than going to prison.”

“I won’t,” Emily said softly.

“I won’t, either,” Hanna said, and Spencer nodded. Aria was right. They couldn’t abandon one another now, not when things were so critical and dangerous.

Not when they had so much to lose.

“Oh my God,” Mrs. Kahn bleated, when she opened the door to the Kahn estate later that afternoon. Her blond hair was expertly blown out, her makeup was perfect, and she wore a new-looking ivory cashmere sweater, curve-hugging skinny jeans, and scuff-free Tod’s driving loafers. But her face was pale, and cords stood out in her neck. She stared at Aria in fear, and Aria knew instantly that Mrs. Kahn believed everything the news was saying. This was a woman who had once, at a family wedding Aria and Noel had attended, pulled Aria into a hug and said, You know, I think of you as my daughter . It was amazing how a couple of news stories could sway an opinion.