Sara Shepard - Burned

She focused on the road, which was barely visible through the rain. “Stay on 76 until 202,” Madison instructed.

Those were the directions to get to Rosewood. “Where do you live, exactly?” Hanna asked, even though she now knew.

Madison giggled. “You’re going to hate me, but I don’t exactly remember. My parents just bought a new house, like, last week, and I keep forgetting the address. But I think I can get us there.”

An oncoming car sent up a plume of water against the windshield. Pull over! she told herself. Wait at least until this rain stops! But, frustratingly, she kept driving.

Madison directed Hanna to Reeds Lane. Hanna’s heart thudded as she navigated the curves, dreading the moment that was about to come. And then, there it was: A car appeared out of nowhere, veering straight into her lane. She screamed and cut the wheel. Madison let out a strange urp sound, and her head banged against the seat. The tires skidded on the wet road, and before Hanna knew it, the car had slid down the embankment. She hit the brakes hard, and the wheels locked and the back end fishtailed.

“Help!” she screamed. A huge oak approached in the windshield. She tried to turn away from it, but it was too late.

There was a deafening crunch , and then a symphony of shattering glass. Hanna shielded her face and felt the airbag deploy. The seatbelt cut hard against her shoulder and waist, and then everything stopped. When she opened her eyes, the radio was still playing. The engine still hummed. A tree branch poked through the windshield. Glass had shattered everywhere.

Hanna looked to her right. Madison’s head was tilted at a strange angle. A thin ribbon of blood flowed out of her nose. When Hanna looked down into the footwell, she screamed. Madison had no legs. She was only a torso.

“Madison?” Hanna whispered shakily. She shook Madison’s shoulder. “ Madison? ”

Suddenly, Madison’s eyes popped open. Hanna recoiled. The girl’s eyes were clear and lucid, and she stared unflinchingly at Hanna.

“Your name isn’t Olivia,” she said in a haunted voice. “It’s Hanna Marin. I know everything about you.”

Hanna’s eyes boggled. She pushed the airbag out of the way and tried to scramble out of the car, but Madison caught her arm before she could. When she turned back, it wasn’t Madison’s face staring back at her. It was Ali’s .

“Hey, Hanna!” The corners of Ali’s lips stretched wide into a smile. “Miss me?”

Hanna shot up in bed, breathing hard. She was in the calm, quiet stateroom on the boat. The covers had been thrown back, and she was clutching a pillow with her trembling fingers. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to erase Ali’s face from her thoughts, but her smile was burned in her brain.

“Are you okay?”

Naomi was sitting on her own bed, looking curiously at Hanna.

Hanna jumped. “H-how long have you been sitting there?”

Naomi smiled, her wide blue eyes seemingly innocent. “Not too long. You were really passed out, though. Saying some crazy stuff, too.”

“L-like what?” Hanna gasped. The dream spun in her head. What if she’d called out Madison’s name?

Naomi shrugged but didn’t answer. She grabbed Hanna’s hands to pull her up. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Hanna echoed weakly.

Naomi pulled a plastic bag from behind her back and took out two candy-colored wigs. “Look what I found in one of the shops on the concourse level! Won’t they be perfect for our routine tomorrow?” She plopped the blue one on Hanna’s head, then arranged the purple one on her own. “I think I know why you’re acting so weird, Hanna. You have stage fright, don’t you? You’re freaked about singing in front of all of those people. But it’s going to be great. I’ll be right next to you. Nothing can go wrong—I promise. So are you still in?”

The fruity Kate Spade perfume Naomi always wore was suddenly so overpowering that Hanna thought she might throw up. She looked down at her arm. Naomi was still gripping her wrist, and her eyes flashed, looking so much like Madison’s.

She pulled her arm away fast. “I-I have to go.”

Naomi frowned. “ Why? ”

Hanna stood up, her mind a blank. Her only goal was to get to the front door as quickly as possible. “S-something came up,” she stammered.

“But what about the talent show?”

Hanna glanced back just once. There was such a hurt look on Naomi’s face, but Hanna knew now it was all just a facade. “I’m sorry,” she practically whispered. Then she flung the door open, slipped into the hall, and slammed it shut before Naomi could follow her.

She was almost to the elevators when she caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. The blue wig Naomi had bought sat crookedly on her head, half of the hair sticking straight in the air, the other half sweeping across her forehead. As she reached to pull it off, something fluttered out and skidded to the floor. It looked like a receipt. On the back, something was scrawled in blue felt-tip pen. When Hanna leaned down to look closer, her heart stood still.

You can’t hide from the truth, little liar. You’re going to get what you deserve.—A

The next morning, there was a loud knock on Spencer’s door. “Spencer?” Reefer called. “Are you in there?”

“Go away,” she answered in a muffled voice. “I’m sick.”

“What’s wrong?” Reefer sounded worried. “Can I come in? Please? ”

Spencer hid her face with a pillow and groaned. She’d remained in her room for as long as she possibly could. Texts had come in from Aria, Hanna, and Emily, bright and early, reporting that Hanna hadn’t yet been able to sneak on Naomi’s computer and find out anything else. Then Emily and Aria had called, asking Spencer if she wanted to run through the talent show routine one more time—the performance was that night, and they still hadn’t nailed all the dance steps. They’d stopped bugging her after she said she wasn’t feeling well, but Reefer hadn’t given up. “ Pleeeease? ” Reefer drawled again.

Spencer sighed, stood up, and hobbled toward the door, wincing as she put weight on her twisted ankle. The light was bright in the hall, and she squinted. Reefer’s jaw dropped when he saw her. “What happened to you?”

“What part?” Spencer turned away. “The fact that I smell like vomit, or the fact that there’s gum all through my hair?”

“ All of it!” Reefer cried.

Spencer glanced at her reflection in the sunburst mirror in the hall and shuddered. It was bad enough that she’d spent the whole night vomiting because of some bad shrimp scampi she’d eaten at dinner—or, well, she assumed it was the shrimp, even though other people had eaten the same thing and hadn’t even gotten a stomachache. That morning, she’d also awakened to a huge glob of chewing gum as a brand-new hair accessory. It was going to take a miracle to get it out without chopping off all her hair.

“Someone put it in my hair in the crush to get out of the café after dinner,” Spencer said. “I turned around, and suddenly it was there.”

Reefer sat down on the desk chair, looking puzzled. “Did you see who did it?”

“No.”

“Maybe you were chewing gum before you went to sleep and forgot to take it out.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I never chew gum before bed.”

Reefer walked over to her and hugged her waist. “Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that we shouldn’t sneak around anymore.”

Spencer wriggled out of his grip. “We have to sneak around.”