Sara Shepard - Unbelievable

“Mona was there the night we hurt Jenna,” Spencer mumbled absently.

Aria nodded. “It’s a long story, but I actually talked to Jenna tonight. Jenna knows what we did. Only, get this—she and Ali set it up together.”

Spencer sat up straighter. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. “What? Why?”

“She said that she and Ali both had sibling issues or something,” Aria explained, not sounding very confident in the answer.

“I just don’t understand that,” Emily whispered. “I saw Jason DiLaurentis on the news the other day. He said he doesn’t even speak to his parents anymore, and that his family was really messed up. Why would he say that?”

“There’s a lot you can’t tell about people, looking in from the outside,” Hanna murmured tearfully.

Spencer covered her face with her hands. There was so much she didn’t understand, so much that didn’t make sense. She knew that things should at least feel resolved now—A was really gone, Ali’s killer would soon be apprehended—but she felt more lost than ever. She took her hands away, staring at the sliver of moon in the sky. “You guys,” Spencer broke the silence, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Something else ?” Hanna wailed.

“Something…about the night Ali went missing.” Spencer slid her silver charm bracelet up and down her arm, keeping her voice to a whisper. “You know how I ran out of the barn after Ali? And how I said I didn’t see where she was going? Well…I did see. She went right down the path. I went up to her and…and we fought. It was about Ian. I…I’d kissed Ian not long before, and Ali had told me that he only kissed me because she told him to. And she said that she and Ian were really in love, and she teased me for caring.”

Spencer felt her friends’ eyes on her. She gathered up strength to go on.

“I got so mad…I shoved her. She fell against the rocks. There was this awful crack noise.” A tear wobbled out of the corner of her eye and spilled down her cheek. She hung her head. “I’m sorry, guys. I should’ve told you. I just…I didn’t remember. And then when I did, I was so scared.”

When she looked up, her friends were aghast. Even Wilden’s head tilted toward the back, as if he were trying to listen. If they wanted to, they could throw the Ian theory out the window. They could make Wilden stop the car and make Spencer repeat exactly what she’d said. Things could go in a horrible direction from here.

Emily was the first to take Spencer’s hand. Then Hanna placed hers on top of Emily’s, and then Aria laid hers on top of Hanna’s. It reminded Spencer of when they used to all touch the photo of the five of them that hung in Ali’s foyer. “We know it wasn’t you,” Emily whispered.

“It was Ian. It all makes sense,” Aria said forcefully, gazing into Spencer’s eyes. It seemed like she believed Spencer wholly and completely.

They reached Spencer’s street, and Wilden pulled into her family’s long, circular driveway. Spencer’s parents weren’t home yet, and the house was dark. “Do you want me to stay with you guys until your folks get home?” Wilden asked as the girls got out.

“It’s okay.” Spencer glanced around at the others, suddenly relieved that they were here.

Wilden backed out of the driveway and turned slowly around the cul-de-sac, first passing the DiLaurentises’ old house, then the Cavanaughs’, and then the Vanderwaals’, the big monstrosity with the detached garage down the street. There was no one home at Mona’s, obviously. Spencer shuddered.

A flash of light in the backyard caught her eye. Spencer cocked her head, her heart speeding up. She walked down the stone path that led to her backyard and curled her hands along the stone wall surrounding their property. There, past the deck, the rock-lined pool, the burbling hot tub, the expansive yard, and even the renovated barn, at the very back of the property near where Ali had fallen, Spencer saw two figures, lit only by moonlight. They reminded her of something.

The wind picked up, tiptoeing up and down Spencer’s back. Even though it wasn’t the right season, the air briefly smelled like honeysuckle, just as it had that horrible night four and a half years ago. All at once, her memory broke free. She saw Ali fall backward into the stone wall. A crack rang out through the air, as loud as church bells. When Spencer heard the girlish gasp in her ear, she turned. No one was behind her. No one was anywhere. And when she turned back, Ali was still slumped against the stone wall, but her eyes were open. And then, Ali grunted and pushed herself to her feet.

She was fine.

Ali glared at Spencer, about to speak, but something down the path distracted her. She took off fast, disappearing into a thicket of trees. In seconds, Spencer heard Ali’s signature giggle. There was rustling, and then two distinct shapes. One was Ali’s. Spencer couldn’t tell who the other person was, but it didn’t look like Melissa. It was hard to believe that, only moments after this, Ian would push Ali into the DiLaurentises’ half-dug gazebo hole. Ali might’ve been a bitch, but she didn’t deserve anything like that.

“Spencer?” Hanna said softly, her voice sounding far away. “What’s wrong?”

Spencer opened her eyes and shuddered. “I didn’t do it,” she whispered.

The figures near the barn stepped into the light. Melissa’s posture was stiff and Ian’s fists clenched. The wind carried their voices to the front yard, and it sounded like they were fighting.

Spencer’s nerves felt ignited. She wheeled around and looked down her street. Wilden’s car was gone. Frantically, she fumbled in her pocket for her phone, but remembered—Mona had thrown it out the window.

“I got it,” Hanna said, pulling out her own BlackBerry and dialing a number. She handed the phone to Spencer. Calling WILDEN, the screen said.

Spencer had to hold the phone with two hands, her fingers were trembling so badly. Wilden answered after two rings. “Hanna?” He sounded confused. “What is it?”

“It’s Spencer,” Spencer bleated. “You have to turn around. Ian’s here.”

The following afternoon, Aria sat on Meredith’s living room futon, absently flicking the William Shakespeare bobblehead Ezra had given her. Byron and Meredith sat next to her, and they were all staring at Meredith’s television. There was a press conference about Ali’s murder on TV. Ian Thomas arrested, said a big banner at the bottom of the screen.

“Mr. Thomas’s arraignment is set for Tuesday,” a newscaster said, standing in front of the grand stone steps of the Rosewood County Courthouse. “No one in this community ever expected that a quiet, polite boy like Ian Thomas could be behind this.”

Aria pulled her knees into her chest. The cops had gone to the Vanderwaal residence this morning and had found Ali’s diary underneath Mona’s bed. Mona had been telling Spencer the truth about the last entry—it was about how Ali had given Ian an ultimatum that he either break up with Melissa Hastings or she would tell the world about them. The news showed the police leading Ian to the station in handcuffs. When asked to make a statement, all Ian said was “I’m innocent. This is a mistake.”

Byron scoffed in disbelief. He reached over and grabbed Aria’s hand. Then, predictably, the news flashed to the next story—Mona’s death. The screen showed the string of yellow police tape around the Floating Man Quarry, then a shot of the Vanderwaal house. A random BlackBerry phone icon appeared in the corner. “Miss Vanderwaal had been stalking four Rosewood Day girls for over a month now, and the threats had turned deadly,” the newscaster said. “There was a scuffle between Miss Vanderwaal and an unnamed minor last night at the edge of the quarry, which is notoriously dangerous. Miss Vanderwaal slipped off the edge, breaking her neck in the fall. Police found Miss Vanderwaal’s personal BlackBerry in her purse at the bottom of the Quarry, but they’re still looking for a second phone—the one she used to send most of the troubling messages.”