Spencer pressed her lips together. “But that means leaving the state. Which is a no-no, remember?”
Hanna paused, remembering the police and Rubens telling them how imperative it was that they remained in Rosewood until their trial. It had been incredible that they hadn’t been ordered to remain in jail without bail at their arraignment, actually—people facing murder charges usually were. Hanna wondered if they’d gotten off because they were still just teenagers. She knew they were risking everything, thinking about leaving. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Ali getting away, again. “What if this is our only chance?” she squeaked.
“I agree,” Aria said as they reached the Prius. “Ali could be there. Or there could be a clue that leads us to where she might have gone. We should do it.”
They all turned to Spencer, who looked conflicted. “I don’t know . . .”
Something snapped behind them. Hanna whirled around toward the direction of the sound and canvassed the scene. The parking lot was empty, all the cars lined up in neat rows. The wind shifted again, and her gaze drifted upward. The only thing she saw was a uniformed man standing in the guard tower. He held a huge gun in his hand.
Aria’s throat bobbed, her gaze on the guard, too. Emily pressed her hand to her mouth. Hanna could tell they were thinking the same thing. Pretty soon, if they didn’t act fast, a guard would be watching them.
Spencer made a small, choked noise. “Okay,” she whispered. “We’ll leave for Cape May tomorrow morning.”
4
BEACH TRIP!
Aria Montgomery awoke on Saturday to two strong, warm arms wrapped tightly around her. She breathed in deeply, inhaling her boyfriend Noel Kahn’s slightly sweet, slightly salty morning smell. He’d slept over the past week, sneaking through her window once her mom had gone to bed, and she had to admit it was bliss spooning him all night. I could get used to this, she thought headily, her eyes fluttering closed.
Except she wasn’t going to get used to it. Because soon everything was going to change.
She sat up straight, reality whooshing back. She’d only recently reunited with Noel, and now that was all going to be taken away. Aria stared at his peaceful face on the pillow, wishing she could perfectly preserve this memory for all her future lonely, horrible nights in a prison cell. He has serious bedhead, she chanted silently. He talks in his sleep about lacrosse plays. He looks so cuddly and adorable.
Noel opened one eye. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Just trying to preserve this moment forever,” Aria said breezily, then winced. The last thing she wanted to do was bring up her impending doom first thing in the morning.
But Noel sat up and looked at her with a serious expression. “Whatever happens, Aria, I’m going to wait for you. I mean it.”
Aria pulled away. Yeah, right. It was clear she and Noel were kindred spirits, but she couldn’t ask him to wait thirty years for her to maybe get parole. “I’ll have saggy boobs by the time I get out,” she blurted.
“I like saggy boobs,” Noel answered sleepily. “Especially your saggy boobs.”
Aria felt tears come to her eyes. She flopped back on the pillow and stared at the old glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. “I wish I could just run away.”
“Where would you go?” Noel asked.
Aria thought about the fantasy she’d turned over and over in her mind a thousand times: She had the cash now, thanks to the sale of several of her oil paintings. Couldn’t she withdraw a huge chunk of change and just . . . leave? If Ali could do it, why couldn’t she?
“Not an island,” she said first. Her spring-break trip to Jamaica junior year—and getting into that mess with Tabitha Clark, the girl who had tried to pass herself off as Ali—had ruined her on the Caribbean. So had the senior-year Eco Cruise trip, where Aria had almost been killed by a bomb blast in the boiler room and left at sea to drown.
“What about Norway?” Noel suggested.
Aria stretched. “That would be nice. Holland is cool, too. They’re very lenient there, and I love the Anne Frank museum and all the canals.”
Noel laced his hands behind his head. “You could paint in your spare time. Sell a few works, set us up in style.”
Aria punched him playfully. “Us? Who said you could come along?”
Noel looked like he was going to say something teasing back when Aria’s alarm blared. Suddenly, another reality rushed to the forefront of her mind. She’d told Spencer she’d be waiting outside in a half hour.
She leapt out of bed. “I have to go.”
Noel watched as Aria scuttled around, flinging her closet open, searching for her flip-flops. “You meeting with your lawyer?” he asked.
“Uh . . . no. Just hanging out with the girls.” She tried to smile at him. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make breakfast for you this morning.” Their on-again relationship still felt so new and tenuous. A big stack of pancakes was always the way to Noel’s heart. “Rain check?”
“Can I come along?”