Sara Shepard - Wanted

If she had to start over somewhere, it was going to be in Rosewood. And start over she did. She was supposed to go to the Preserve the very morning she saw you skulking around my yard—and man, did she jump on the chance fast. One minute, she and I were arguing—I was so happy she was on her way out—and the next she was in the yard, pretending to be me, talking to you guys like you were BFFs. Talking about my flag as if she hadn’t been the one who’d stolen it first and ruined my masterpiece with that stupid wishing well. How was I supposed to know that everyone—my mom, my dad, even my brother—would think it was me out there and Courtney inside? How was I supposed to know my mom would grab me in the hall and say it’s time to go, Courtney? I pleaded with her that I was Ali, but my mom didn’t believe me, all because Courtney took my A-is-for-Ali ring when I wasn’t looking. My mom yelled outside to the girl who wasn’t Ali that we were leaving, and the girl who wasn’t Ali turned, smiled, and said, Bye!

Off we went. Courtney got my perfect life, and I got her wrecked one. Just like that.

She ruined everything. She put her lips all over Ian Thomas. She nearly got arrested for blinding prissy Jenna Cavanaugh. She ditched Naomi and Riley, the coolest girls at school. But the very worst thing she did in my name was choose four new best friends in their place. Girls she knew I wouldn’t look twice at, girls who weren’t special in any way. Girls who she knew would fall all over her, desperate for the opportunity to be in her exclusive club. The girls who’d help her get everything she wanted.

Any of this sound familiar, ladies?

But don’t worry. This little fairy tale can still have a happy ending for me. I saw to it that my sister paid for what she did. And now, so will you.

I tried to burn you. I tried to make you crazy. I tried to have you arrested. I’ve even messed with you this week—surprise! I flung myself at Aria’s boyfriend. I sent poor Hanna fake tickets to a certain fashion show. I let Em believe there was a happily-ever-after for us after all. Smooch! And Spencer…I have a surprise for you. Look closely! It’s right under your nose.

I suppose I should thank Courtney for her meticulous diary keeping. It helped me—and Mona—so much. It’s all led up to this big moment. The curtain’s about to go up, bitches, and the show is about to begin. Get ready to meet your maker. It won’t be long now.

Kisses!

A (the real one)

No one said anything for a long moment. Aria read the note several times before it sank in. She staggered backward, awkwardly bumping into the bureau. “ Ali wrote this? Our Ali?”

“It isn’t our Ali,” Spencer said in a comatose voice. “It’s…the real Ali. Our Ali was…Courtney. The girl we knew is dead.”

“No.” Emily’s voice was choked. “It’s not possible. I don’t believe it.”

Suddenly, there was a snicker outside the door. Everyone shot up. Aria’s skin prickled.

“Ali?” Spencer cried out.

No answer.

Aria felt for her cell phone in her pocket, but the screen still said No Service Available. There was no landline in this room, either. Even if they hefted the window open and yelled, this property was so remote that no one would hear.

Aria’s eyes watered from the noxious odor that had permeated the room. All of a sudden, a new scent emerged. Aria’s head shot up, her nostrils twitching. Emily, Hanna, and Spencer widened their eyes. They all realized what it was at the same time. That was when Aria saw white smoke billowing through the vents.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, pointing. “Something’s on fire.”

Aria rushed to the door and pulled on the knob. She turned around fast, her face stricken. There was no need to say anything to the others—they already knew. The door was locked. They were trapped.

The room began to fill with black, curling smoke. The temperature was slowly but steadily rising. Emily yanked at the window sash, but it didn’t budge. She thought about breaking the glass, but the bedroom was in the back of the house, which was set on a steep downward slope. The jump would break their legs, if not worse.

On the other side of the room, Spencer, Aria, and Hanna were ramming their shoulders against the door, trying to break it down. When it didn’t give, they collapsed in a heap on the bed, panting.

“We’re going to die,” Hanna whispered. “Ali’s trying to kill us.”

“No she’s—” Emily trailed off. She was about to say that Ali wasn’t—Ali couldn’t. Billy had written that note, posing as Ali. And if he hadn’t, then Melissa had. Melissa had snickered at them moments ago, laughing at everything they’d deduced. Melissa had killed Ali’s sister. Melissa had set this fire. Or if not Melissa—or Billy—then someone else.

Just not Ali. Never Ali.

The air was getting so thick with smoke it was becoming hard to see. Hanna leaned over and started to cough, and Aria let out a woozy moan. Spencer ripped the top sheet from the bed and shoved it under the crack in the door to prevent more smoke from getting in, like they’d been taught in seventh-grade fire safety class. “We probably only have a few more minutes in here until the fire reaches the door,” she told the others. “We have to figure out something fast.”

Emily ran to the corner of the room, bumping against the closet door. Suddenly, she heard a small, thin cry. She froze. Everyone turned, hearing it, too. Ali? Emily thought.

But the cries were coming from somewhere very close. Then there were pounding sounds. Another cry. A muffled scream. Emily faced the closet. “Someone’s in there!”

Spencer shot forward and turned the knob. The smell wafted out in putrid, powerful waves. Emily gagged, covering her mouth with the bottom of her shirt.

“Oh my God,” Spencer shouted. Then Emily looked down and screamed louder than she’d ever screamed before. A rotted corpse was splayed out in the bottom of the almost-empty closet. The legs were bent halfway up the wall at a disfiguring angle, and the head lolled off to the left, resting on top of an Adidas shoe box. The skin was a sallow yellow, and there was a horrible waxy substance on what was left of the cheeks. The skin and muscles around the mouth had rotted away into a hollow pit. The beautiful golden hair looked like a wig, and the forehead swarmed with maggots.

It was Ian Thomas.

Emily kept screaming and shut her eyes, but the image seemed branded on the back of her eyelids. Then, something shot forward and touched her foot. She shot back and tried to slam the door. “Stop!” Spencer screamed. “Emily, wait!”

Emily froze, whimpering. Spencer pushed around her and pulled another body from the closet, someone who’d almost been crushed by Ian’s body. Emily gasped. It was a girl, her mouth gagged. Melissa. Her blue eyes stared at them imploringly.

Everyone helped to untie the thick ropes around her wrists and ankles and pull the duct tape from her mouth. Melissa immediately doubled over and began to cough. Tears streamed down her face. She collapsed into Spencer, her sobs tortured and terrified. “Are you okay?” Spencer cried.

“She kidnapped me and threw me in the trunk of the car,” Melissa coughed. “I woke up a couple times, but she kept drugging me to knock me out. And when I woke up again, I was in…” She trailed off, her eyes sliding to the half-opened closet. Her face contorted with pain.

Then, Melissa sniffed the air. The smoke was pouring into the room so fast, a fine gray haze had begun to swirl. Melissa began to shake. “We’re all going to die.”