After a few moments, Emily’s lips looked a little less blue. “I told you I was fine,” she insisted.
“Still. This is a big deal. I’m not a fan of handling this at all, but we can’t handle this alone.” There was a steely look on Spencer’s face as she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. Her brow furrowed, and she scrolled through her contacts for a number. A tinny ringing sound pinged through the speaker.
“Who are you calling?” Hanna demanded.
Spencer held up a finger. An attentive look crossed her face when whoever it was answered. “Agent Fuji?” she said into the phone. “This is Spencer Hastings.”
“Spencer!” Emily whispered, trying to grab the phone away.
Spencer ducked to the side, making a face. We have to do this, she mouthed.
But Hanna wasn’t sure about the decision, either. Jasmine Fuji was the FBI agent in charge of Tabitha Clark’s murder case. She’d seemed to take their side when they told her about A tormenting them, but then she’d had them arrested for Tabitha’s murder when that fake video came out. Sure, Fuji had made amends after Nick revealed himself, but Hanna didn’t trust her.
Spencer nodded into the phone. “Listen, something happened I need to discuss with you. It’s about Alison. Actually, Emily can tell it better.”
Then she shoved the phone at Emily, putting it on speaker. Emily shook her head vigorously, but Spencer made an imploring face. Talk, she mouthed.
Emily lowered her shoulders and retold the story. Hanna hid her eyes. It was just as hard to hear the second time around.
“Did you happen to see where this person ran off to?” Fuji’s voice blared through the speaker when Emily finished.
Emily cleared her throat. “No. By the time I got through the door to the hall, she was gone.”
“But it was definitely Alison,” Aria piped up. “Emily wouldn’t make something like that up. Actually, we’ve all felt Alison’s presence, but none of us have been entirely sure. Emily made eye contact, though. Alison spoke to her.”
“That’s right,” Emily said. “She said, ‘Did you really think I’d leave for good?’”
There was a long pause. Static crackled through the phone, and Hanna thought they’d lost the connection. Then Fuji sighed. “Okay. We’re obviously going to take someone attacking Emily very seriously. I’m going to call a team out to Rosewood Day to check it out right now, and we’re going to figure out what happened—”
“What happened?” Spencer interrupted. “We just told you!”
“Girls,” Fuji said, her voice suddenly firm, “you’ve been through a lot of trauma. And I completely understand why you think you saw Alison the night with Nicholas in that basement when you were drugged. But I can only tell you so many times: Alison is dead. She died in the Poconos. Whoever you saw in the pool was someone else. Maybe someone who was impersonating her. Maybe someone in one of those Alison fan clubs. But not Alison herself.”
“How do you know?” Hanna wailed, her heart pounding fast. The blasting heat was beginning to make her feel faint. “Emily saw her. Do you completely disregard all your victims’ testimonies, or just ours?”
Spencer pinched Hanna’s arm, but Hanna felt totally justified in saying what she’d said. She was so freaking sick of Fuji and every other adult who thought they were just scared, paranoid kids seeing ghosts. Ali was out there. She was a real, viable, terrifying threat. If someone didn’t act, she was going to do something awful . . . probably to one of them.
“I have her hoodie,” Emily said in a small voice. Her gaze dropped to the sweatshirt she’d had in her hands on the swings. “She wriggled out of it to escape. Can’t you test it for DNA?”
Fuji sighed. “Fine. Bring it into the station.” She sounded annoyed. “Can you come in now?”
Everyone said yes, despite the fact that Fuji’s office was all the way in the city. Then the agent hung up without saying good-bye.
No one spoke. A lawn mower grumbled far in the distance. Spencer scowled at her phone. “She’s such a bitch.”
Aria cleared her throat. “Why do you think Fuji keeps insisting Ali’s dead? Do you think she has evidence she’s not telling us about?”
“I doubt it,” Hanna said sharply. “She just doesn’t want to be wrong.” She leaned over and picked up the hoodie. When the heat hit it, Hanna got a whiff of something sour, sweaty, and vanilla-ish from the fabric. It was sickening to think that was Ali’s smell.
Then she noticed a single, long blond hair attached to the sleeve. “Guys. Look.”
Aria noticed it, too. “Be careful! It might be our only link to Ali!”