Emily cleared her throat, bringing Ali back to herself. “Do you want us to . . . go?”
Ali shook her head quickly, realizing she had no idea what sorts of expressions had just crossed her face. “Of course I don’t want you to go,” she mustered, trying to regain control. “My mom was mad at me because I . . . I threw my hockey clothes in with her delicates again.” She rolled her eyes. “But don’t worry, girls—I’m not grounded or anything. Our sleepover extravaganza can proceed as planned!”
The girls looked relieved, though something still seemed to hang over them. For a moment, Ali worried if they were looking at her and realizing there was something different about her, something they hadn’t seen in the girl in the striped halter just moments ago. But then Spencer added that she had exciting news: They could have their sleepover in the Hastingses’ backyard barn after all. Unexpectedly, Melissa was going to Prague Thursday night after graduation, so they would have the place to themselves.
“Sweet,” Ali said loudly, hoping that Courtney, wherever she was, heard. She wasn’t going to let her sister get in the way of her fun. Let her try to switch. It was never going to happen.
Suddenly, she noticed a flash of blue across the Hastingses’ yard. Melissa was on her way to the barn, her gown swinging from a hanger in her hand. She’d already slung the school’s valedictorian mantle over her shoulders. Show-off.
Suddenly, Ali had to make everyone see how powerful she was, how crushing she could be. She wasn’t sure if it was for her friends’ benefit, exactly . . . or for the girl watching from within the house.
Ali stood up. “Hey, Melissa!”
Melissa stopped and turned around. “Oh. Hey, guys.”
“Excited to go to Prague?” Ali smiled sweetly. “Is Ian going?”
Spencer reached across the table and dug her nails into Ali’s arm. “Ali.”
“No,” Melissa answered after a pause. “Ian’s not.”
“Oh!” Ali heard her own voice say. “Are you sure that’s a good idea—leaving him alone? He might get another girlfriend!”
She gave Spencer a meaningful glance. “Alison. Stop it. Now.”
But Ali couldn’t stop.
“Spencer?” Aria asked. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Spencer said quickly.
Ali watched as the other girls exchanged an uncertain look. But none of them said anything. Then, Melissa adjusted the mantle around her neck and strode toward the barn. She glanced long and hard at the hole in Ali’s yard but said nothing.
Spencer glared at Ali after Melissa was gone, but Ali didn’t reply. She barely got through the rest of the visit, and when the girls left, she sprinted back into the house and made a beeline for her bedroom. Everything was in its place. Next she found her mother, who was standing at the sink, washing a few glasses.
“Did you let my friends in when I wasn’t here?” she demanded.
Mrs. DiLaurentis wheeled around, looking guilty. “Honey, I thought you were home. But then I saw you pull up with your field hockey friend and realized my mistake.”
Ali’s body started to shake. “So they talked to her?”
“Well, yes. But then I grabbed her.”
“Were they in my room?”
Mrs. DiLaurentis’s gaze fell to her feet. “She’s just curious. The therapist explained everything to us: She hasn’t lived a normal life. We’ve deprived her of that. Think of yourself as a role model.”
The words hurt: It was her they were really talking about, her they thought was still in the hospital, rotting away, becoming weirder and more feral by the day. “Where is she?” Ali said, her voice low and tense.
Mrs. DiLaurentis placed a warning hand on Ali’s arm. “Honey, don’t start a scene. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Where. Is. She?” Ali’s emotions felt like a kite whose string had gotten away from her. It was the same way she used to feel when her sister would push and push and push until she snapped. It was amazing how, after all this time, the feeling could just come back as urgent and fresh as the day she’d first felt it.
The dish towel went limp in Mrs. DiLaurentis’s hands. “Look, we’ll be more careful, okay? We’ll keep her inside from now on, just until we’re sure she’s not backsliding. She’ll be inside for graduation, your sleepover. Okay?”
“Do you promise?” Ali demanded. Mrs. DiLaurentis nodded almost fearfully.
But it wasn’t enough. Ali turned and stormed up the steps, passing her bedroom once more. The guest room door was closed. She banged on it so hard that her knuckles ached. “Courtney?” she bellowed.
But the door didn’t open. “Courtney!” Ali screeched.
“Alison, please,” Mrs. DiLaurentis said, standing at the foot of the stairs.