“Don’t drive us into a ditch!” Heather cried as Cassie steered her car onto the side of a dark, secluded road that paralleled the Rosewood Country Club. The car pitched to the side, definitely off-balance, and Emily, Sophie, and Lola, who were riding in the back, squished together against the door.
“I know what I’m doing.” Cassie jammed the gear into park and shut off the engine. When the headlights clicked off, darkness descended around them. A faint light glowed over the hills of the golf course, but otherwise, Emily couldn’t see a foot in front of her face.
Cassie rummaged around the front seat, pulled out a flashlight, and snapped it on. Everyone squinted when the golden light beamed in their eyes. “Okay, bitches. We ready?”
“Totally,” Lola whispered, pulling a black ski cap over her head. The other girls followed, Emily along with them. Then they climbed up the hill. Every nerve in Emily’s body felt electrified. There was a sour taste in her mouth, and her stomach rumbled from the few bites of lasagna she’d eaten at dinner. She’d had to hide her hands under her butt the whole drive over so the elves wouldn’t see how badly she was shaking.
Cassie’s flashlight made golden crisscross stripes across the golf course. The girls darted over the green, circumnavigating the giant man-made pond and a couple of amoeba-shaped sand traps. Every few steps, Emily looked behind her, sure someone was following them. The rounded hills loomed in the distance, dark silhouettes against the purplish sky. She didn’t see a soul.
The lights of the clubhouse glimmered on the horizon. Dread filled Emily as she took in the long windows and the stone fa?ade. This had been the place where Mona Vanderwaal had held a party for Hanna after her car accident—the one that Mona had caused. And it was at this very party that Hanna realized that Mona was A—and that Mona wanted to kill them.
The girls looped around the country club until they found a back entrance to the kitchen. “Voilà,” Lola whispered, pulling out a key on a Philadelphia Eagles ring, which she’d procured from a friend who worked in the kitchen earlier that day. The key twisted in the lock, and the door creaked open. Emily braced herself for alarms to sound, but none did.
They flipped on the kitchen lights, and Emily shaded her eyes. The pots and pans were neatly put away, the stainless-steel countertops gleamed, and a long spray nozzle dangled limply in the sink.
“Come on,” Cassie hissed, tiptoeing toward a swinging door to the right. She pushed it open with her shoulder to reveal the dining room Emily had eaten in countless times with Ali’s and Spencer’s families. Thirty or so round tables with heavy wood chairs were scattered around the room. An Oriental rug stretched across the floor, and an oak bar took up the whole back wall. An enormous Christmas tree stood in the corner, its lights still blazing, tons of wrapped presents waiting underneath.
The elves got to work quickly, ripping off the glass orbs and strings of popcorn on the tree and placing everything into a bunch of cardboard boxes Cassie had dragged out from the kitchen. Emily helped Lola load the presents into a wheelbarrow Lola’s kitchen friend had placed just outside the door for them, every once in a while examining the labels peeking out beneath the ribbons. She found a box for the Hastings family. There was another one for the Kahns and James Freed’s parents. A fourth tag caught her eye, and she nearly gasped. THE DILAURENTIS FAMILY, the label said. Emily had heard rumors about Ali’s family moving back here; they’d even been in the audience at Ian’s arraignment. Had they already arrived?
Soon enough, Emily and Lola were wheeling a full load to the tennis courts up the hill. “Isn’t this awesome, Santa?” Lola giggled.
“Definitely,” Emily said, but it felt like a bomb was about to go off in her chest. The darkness was playing tricks on her. A bush seemed to scuttle to the left. The wind sounded like a high-pitched giggle.
They dumped the presents onto the ground next to the net and clumsily guided the wheelbarrow back to the clubhouse. Emily worked furiously with Cassie and Heather to pull the ornaments off the Christmas tree. They grabbed glass orb after glass orb, along with a mix of silver and gold stars. Emily tried to wrap them carefully in napkins, but the other girls threw them hastily into the wheelbarrow. Then the girls pulled down all the wreaths, garlands, and strings of mistletoe around the room, stuffing them into the wheelbarrow, too. Just before the last load went out, Cassie directed the girls to stand together in front of the stripped Christmas tree for a photo. “Say Bah Humbug!” Cassie squealed, setting the auto-timer feature on her digital camera and jumping into the picture, too. She took pictures with all the girls’ phones, including Emily’s.