Pretty Little Liars: Pretty Little Secrets

“I’m really sorry about what happened.” Emily leaned against the siding of her house. “I swear I didn’t know my mother was following us. I had no idea she’d tracked us through my phone. I did initially get the Santa job to spy on you guys—you were right. But I gave that up soon after I met you. I’m not cut out to be a narc.”

 

 

“We know, Santa.” Cassie touched Emily lightly on the wrist. “You’re cool.”

 

“And actually, we have something for you.” Lola disappeared into the bushes and unveiled something wrapped in a large blue quilt. She set it down on the stoop and pulled the blankets away; nestled inside was her mother’s baby Jesus. It didn’t have a scratch on it. The little ceramic baby was sleeping peacefully, same as always.

 

“We thought your mom might want this back,” Cassie said with a wink. “She was getting pretty worked up about it last night.”

 

Emily touched the baby Jesus’s head with the tip of her finger. “Thanks, you guys. This will mean a lot to her.”

 

“No worries.” Sophie looked at her watch. “We’d better go, guys. We have that . . . thing.”

 

The elves nodded mysteriously. Emily felt a hurt twinge, wishing they’d tell her where they were going, but maybe that was asking for too much.

 

Cassie stepped off the stoop and waggled her finger. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay, Santa?”

 

“Of course not,” Emily said. “Don’t tell my mom on me, either.”

 

“We promise.”

 

“Maybe we’ll meet up next year at Santa Land.” Lola suppressed a giggle. “I kind of like being an elf, to tell you the truth.”

 

“It’s a deal,” Emily said.

 

The elves sauntered back to Cassie’s car. Emily hugged her arms to her chest for warmth, watching as they drove away. A twig cracked in the distance, and she glanced toward the cornfields, feeling that old, familiar sense of unease. This was too much of a coincidence: Someone was back there. Someone was watching her. “Hello?” she called, stepping off the porch.

 

But no one answered. Whatever—or whoever—it was had vanished.

 

 

 

 

 

Bad Santa

 

 

 

 

I might have disappeared into the cornfield, Em, but I’m not going anywhere.

 

I have to admit—I’m kind of impressed with how our little Emily has grown. Bribing an officer of the court? Who knew she had that in her? Then again, she always did have a soft spot for her friends. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that the key to Emily’s heart is the best friend she loved and lost. If Emily thought there was any chance that her dear Ali was back, she’d go to the ends of the earth to find her.

 

It is a weakness full of possibilities. I could make Emily break laws for me. I could make her accuse people of all kinds of things, all in the name of Alison. And when I make my move, it will be so easy to lure Emily into my trap. All it will take is a few simple words . . . and one simple kiss. I can only hope that the others will be as easy to manipulate . . .

 

Next up: Aria. She, Byron, and Mike are geared up for some kooky Yuletide fun, but I have the sneaking suspicion that the surprise waiting for them at the Bear Claw Lodge is not the new knitting wool Aria wanted for Christmas. And that’s not all that’s going to unravel in Aria’s life this holiday season.

 

Mwah!

 

 

 

 

 

Aria’s Pretty Little Secret

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

The More the Merrier at Solstice Time

 

 

 

 

“Don’t you just love didgeridoo music?” Byron Montgomery steered with his knees as he shoved a CD into the slot in the Subaru’s stereo console. Australian pipe music began to play, and he bopped his head back and forth. “It’s so . . . spiritual. The perfect soundtrack for the Winter Solstice.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Aria Montgomery said absently, examining the gray wool scarf she was knitting. The car went over a bump, and she almost stabbed herself with a wooden knitting needle.

 

“I think didgeridoos are lame.” Aria’s brother, Mike, kicked the back of her seat. “They sound like a combination of a buzzing wasp hive and an old man farting.”

 

Byron frowned and ran his hand through his scraggly hair. “You kids need to get into the spirit. I’d better not be the only one chanting during the Solstice celebration.”

 

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