A wave splashed up, misting Hanna’s face. She settled back in her seat, feeling a mix of shame and regret. All at once, she knew that the seed of friendship that had started to grow between them was probably lost forever. Too much had been said. Too much was damaged—and it was all Hanna’s fault. They might not taunt each other in the Rosewood halls anymore, but they wouldn’t sit together at Steam, either. It was just another thing A had wrecked.
The boat pulled up to the dock, and everyone lined up to get off. “You know, there’s something else I should probably tell you,” she said gruffly as they stepped on the docks.
“What’s that?” Hanna asked.
Naomi tucked a windswept piece of hair behind her ear. “Ali called me up once, after she came back to Rosewood as Courtney. She told me everything. That she was the real Ali, but she’d been imprisoned in the hospital at the beginning of sixth grade because of this fluke switch, and that it was sort of your fault it happened.”
Hanna’s eyes widened. “Did you tell anyone?”
Naomi shook her head. “I thought she was drunk—the story was so crazy. And she kept saying, ‘I hate them, Naomi. They ruined my life. They ruined yours, too, don’t you think? Don’t they owe you something?’”
“Do you think that?” Hanna asked.
Naomi shrugged. “It was cool to be Ali’s friend, and I was really pissed when she dropped Riley and me for you guys. But as time went on, I started to think it was a good thing. Ali was really bossy. And she kept a lot of secrets.”
“Like what?”
Naomi gave Hanna a crazy look. “Maybe that she had a twin sister no one knew about?” Then she cleared her throat. “She said something else on the phone to me last year, though. She said, ‘I’m going to get those bitches, Naomi. We’re going to make them pay for what they did.’”
“God,” Hanna whispered. Ali had made them pay.
Then she looked at Naomi. “I wish you would have said something earlier. I wish you would have told someone.” If Naomi had taken Ali more seriously, the girls might not have gone through that horrible ordeal in the Poconos. If Real Ali had gotten sent back to The Preserve—because surely she would have, if someone had known to believe her—Jamaica wouldn’t have happened, either. Tabitha would’ve just been a weird friend of Ali’s from The Preserve who acted strangely on Ali’s behalf, nothing more.
Hanna pictured time rewinding, every horrible thing they’d done turning to dust. What sort of life would she be living now? How happy would she be, how carefree? How amazing would it be if A wasn’t in her life?
A clever, vindictive look crossed Naomi’s face, reminding Hanna more of the girl she’d known for years, the girl who’d always been her enemy. “I guess that makes us even.”
31
A BITTERSWEET REUNION
The lobby of the Royal Arms Hotel was done up in beige and brown tones and filled with generic furniture and ugly brass light fixtures, making Spencer feel like she was at a hotel near the Philadelphia Airport instead of on the shores of Hamilton, Bermuda. The only thing special about the lobby was that it was jam-packed with kids evacuated from the cruise ship. Boys from Pritchard sat on couches. A bunch of kids from Rosewood Day swarmed the little restaurant, where three televisions were all tuned to cricket matches. Girls from Villa Louisa leaned against the front desk, talking to their parents on their cell phones. Everyone had gotten calls from their parents, who were furious that their children had had to flee for their lives on lifeboats. Rumors swirled about lawsuits against the cruise company. Mason Byers announced that his dad was taking a private plane to Bermuda that night and getting him the hell out of there. The story had even hit the news already—THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE, a headline had read earlier on a news program before cricket, followed by footage of dozens of tiny lifeboats sailing away from the burning ship. Unfortunately, the story about the girls’ brush with death got some airplay, too—reporters practically salivated once they realized they were the Pretty Little Liars. Spencer had found out through the news that the authorities were still trying to figure out what had caused the explosion in the boiler room.
“Okay, everyone!” Jeremy shouted into a megaphone, still doing his best to remain chipper. “We’ve got the fire out on the boat, but it isn’t safe for travel, so we’re booking you plane tickets. You’ll leave either tomorrow or the next day. We’re trying to get you all rooms here, so no one go anywhere. Otherwise you’ll be stranded in Bermuda until your parents can come and get you.”