Sara Shepard - Crushed

“Here’s the note.” Hanna shoved it at Aria when she reached their circle.

Aria looked down and recognized the tiny, even letters immediately. It was the same handwriting from the hateful letter Ali had slid under the bedroom door in the Poconos, just before she’d lit that match. The answer you want is in the Rosewood Day storage shed. . . . Go there NOW . . . before it’s too late.

“Jesus,” Aria whispered. “She has to know that we’d recognize her handwriting. And now we’re just going to go and do exactly what she wants?”

“We still have to check it out, don’t you think?” Hanna asked. “The police will be here any minute.”

Spencer peeked at the note again. “How did you get this, anyway?”

“From this patient I met at the burn clinic.” Hanna paused for a moment, peering over the hill. Sirens began to wail. A police car appeared over the crest. Aria’s stomach twisted.

Hanna turned back to the girls and explained about the body the cops had found behind the hospital. “Her hospital bracelet said Kyla Kennedy,” she whispered hurriedly. “I think Ali killed her, then became her. The girl I met was completely covered in bandages.”

Spencer collapsed against the hood of Hanna’s car. “It totally sounds like Ali. Who else would murder a burn victim and swap places with her?”

Hanna nodded, looking tormented. “Kyla’s bed was outside Graham’s room. And when Graham was spasming, Kyla sent me in the wrong direction to get a nurse. When I came back, he was dead.”

“So she was keeping an eye on Graham, making sure he didn’t say anything?” Aria whispered.

“I can’t believe I didn’t suspect it sooner. I thought I would have been able to spot Ali from a mile away,” Hanna said, choking back tears. “Kyla was just so . . . cool. Now I feel like an idiot . . . again .”

“If she had bandages all over her,” Spencer said, “it would have been easy to fool anyone.”

Suddenly, Aria realized something. “You guys, if it was Ali at the burn clinic . . .”

“ . . . then that explains why Noel was there, too,” Emily finished for her.

By this time, the cop car had pulled into the parking lot, and two officers Aria vaguely recognized from Ali’s trial walked over to them. Their name badges read COATES and HARRISON.

“Hanna Marin,” Harrison, the taller one, who had a broad face, a flat nose, and long eyelashes framing his green eyes, said gruffly. “You said you got a threatening letter?”

“Yes.” With shaking hands, Hanna passed it to them.

Coates and Harrison scanned it, then frowned. “ Proof you need ?” Coates, who was shorter and wirier and had a jutting Adam’s apple, repeated. “What is this all about?”

“We’ll explain everything, we promise,” Hanna said, walking toward the sports fields. “We just need you to check this out. We’re too scared to do it on our own.”

The cops shrugged, then walked ahead of them to the shed, their walkie-talkies squawking every few seconds. Aria glanced at Hanna worriedly. Was it a good idea to get the cops involved? What if Ali was watching at a distance? What if she had a bomb in the shed—and when she saw the officers, she detonated it?

Suddenly, Aria’s phone beeped. Hope flared inside her, followed by a pinch of terror. What if it was Noel? What if it wasn’t Noel?

Then she looked at the screen. The text was from a jumble of letters and numbers.

Her knees went weak. “Oh my God,” she whispered, glancing back up. The cops were several yards ahead of them. She signaled to her friends.

Spencer, Emily, and Hanna shot over to her and stared at the message.

You bitches think you’re so clever, getting new phones, trying to hide from me.

Then everyone’s phones beeped. This time, a picture message loaded. When Aria opened it, she screamed. It was a picture of the suspects list they’d created in the panic room. All of the names were crossed off . . . except for Noel’s.

Spencer’s face had turned white. “How did A get this?” she shrieked, looking at the same picture on her phone.

The cops swiveled around and stared at her. “Is everything all right?” Coates asked.

But none of the girls could answer. Another text came through. And then another, and then another. The note was so long it was several texts.

The most darling part was when you went to that panic room and went all James Bond to figure out who I was. But guess what, bitches? I’ve been a step ahead of you this whole time. I’ve known where you were. I’ve known where you were going. I call the shots, not you—in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. But don’t worry—you’ll see soon enough. Just open the shed.

—A

Hanna’s head shot up when she finished. “ Just open the shed ?”

“Guys, it’s definitely a trap.” Spencer’s hands trembled.

“Maybe it’s dangerous that we’re even here,” Emily whispered.

“Girls?” Harrison loomed over them, hands on his hips. “What’s going on?”

Aria was about to answer, but then her gaze focused on the shed. To her horror, one of the soccer players was jogging toward it. His hand reached out for the doorknob.

“ Wait! ” Aria sprinted for him. “Don’t open that!” Her mind whirled with all the possibilities of what could be inside. Explosives. Wild animals. Ali herself.

“Don’t open it!” Aria screamed again. Spencer, Emily, Hanna, and the two officers followed, yelling at the boy as well.

But it was too late—he was already pulling on the handle. The shed door creaked open, the bottom getting caught on the tall grass.

Coates pushed the boy aside and tried to shut it again, but then he paused, his face going pale. “ Shit ,” he whispered.

Aria peered inside. For the first half second, all she saw was darkness. Then, shapes began to form: balls, sticks, mats, hurdles, goal nets. When she saw the object sitting on a chair in the back of the room, she thought that it was just another piece of sports equipment—a speed bag, maybe, or a blocking sled for Rosewood Day’s less-than-stellar football team.

Then an arm appeared. Two feet. A head hung limply on a neck. Aria took a step closer, knowing a split second before seeing his face who it was going to be. She sank to her knees and let out a howl. Hanna gasped. Spencer screamed. Emily took a few big steps back, her mouth frozen in terror. The soccer boy spun around and threw up in the grass. Coates and Harrison shooed the other players away.

“Is that . . . ?” Spencer wailed.

Mercifully, she didn’t say his name. Aria stared at the top of Noel’s head. He was still in his tuxedo jacket, and his arms were pinned behind his back, his ankles tied to the chair. There was a big strip of duct tape over his mouth. His skin was eerily pale, and there were huge gashes on his cheeks, like he’d been badly beaten.

It felt like cymbals were crashing in her head. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

“I need an ambulance!” Hanna screamed into her phone. “ Do something!” Spencer bellowed to Coates, who was shouting something into his walkie-talkie. But Aria hardly heard them. She lay on the splintered ground of the shed, unable to move any closer to Noel, petrified to see whether he was dead or alive. All she saw, in that moment, were the shiny shoes on his feet. She’d been with him when he bought those shoes. He’d tried on a bunch of pairs in the store, just like a girl. A stylish girl deserves a stylish guy , he’d told her with a wink.

Her phone beeped in her ear. Somehow, she had the sense to sit up and look at the screen. Behind her, her friends were scrambling around, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. But as their phones beeped, each of them paused to look at the heartbreaking message on their screens.