Spencer glanced into the church again. “I called Mrs. Fields this morning and asked if I could give a eulogy. She admitted that she didn’t even want us here. Said it was inappropriate. But I said we’d be quiet. We just wanted to honor her death.”
“What?” Hanna gasped. She peeked through the doorway and peered at Emily’s mother, who was sitting straight-backed in the pew. Her hair was molded into a stiff shape. Her shoulders were perfectly squared. Come to think of it, Mrs. Fields hadn’t even looked at any of them once since the funeral began.
“But Mrs. Fields knows us,” Aria squeaked.
“Yeah, well, not anymore,” Spencer murmured bitterly.
Hanna couldn’t believe it. “Didn’t you argue with her?” she asked. “Didn’t you try to make her understand what Em meant to us?”
Spencer scoffed. “Um, no, Hanna. I pretty much got off the phone as quickly as I could.”
Hanna began to feel the hot, bubbling sensation of anger inside her. “So you just took the abuse? You let her call us inappropriate? You just let her believe something totally false?”
“You can take it up with her if you want,” Spencer whispered, her eyes flashing. “But the impression I got is that Mrs. Fields basically thinks we caused Em’s death.”
“Only because you let her believe that!” Hanna argued. And then, frustrated, she shoved the book of pictures back into her purse, crossed her arms over her chest, and said the thing that had been prodding the back of her mind all morning. “Okay, fine. You know what? Maybe Mrs. Fields is right. Maybe we did cause Emily’s death.”
Spencer recoiled. “Excuse me?”
Hanna stared at her evenly. She was so angry she could barely see straight, though she wasn’t sure who, exactly, she was angry with. Maybe just the situation as a whole. Maybe everyone. “Well, you must believe it, too, Spence—or else you wouldn’t have gotten off the phone with your tail between your legs. And maybe she’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t have stayed in Jersey after Betty Maxwell’s house was a bust,” she declared. “We should have come home, where Emily would have been safe.”
Two bright spots appeared on Spencer’s cheeks, even more apparent under the hallway’s harsh fluorescent lights. “Huh. It was my suggestion to stay in Jersey. So it’s my fault she’s dead. Is that what you’re saying?”
Hanna rolled her jaw, at first not answering. But then she swallowed a lump in her throat. “It did seem kind of clueless. ‘Let’s get ice cream! Let’s have a good time!’ And then Emily sits there, all night, like a freaking zombie! That big ocean, that storm, it was so tempting—we should have seen this coming.”
Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “You could have said, ‘Hey, I think Emily’s going to drown herself, so maybe we should leave.’”
Hanna’s shoulders tensed. Spencer didn’t have to use quite such a dopey tone when impersonating Hanna’s voice.
“And you were sleeping next to her, Hanna,” Spencer went on. “Why didn’t you wake up when Emily got out of bed?”
Hanna clenched her fists. “You can’t blame me for sleeping. I was tired.”
“Oh, right, you need your beauty sleep,” Spencer said mockingly. “God forbid Hanna Marin doesn’t go one night without an eye mask and headphones.”
Hanna stomped her foot. “That’s not fair!”
“Guys,” Aria said softly, grabbing their arms. “It’s clear both of you are just mad at Mrs. Fields, not each other. So you missed Emily’s cues. You can’t beat yourselves up.”
Spencer yanked away and sneered at her. “Uh, excuse me? You missed Emily’s cues, too, Aria. We were all there.”
Aria’s mouth made an O. “I didn’t want to stay in Cape May.”
“Then why didn’t you say something?” Spencer growled, looking more and more affronted. “Why am I the only one who makes the decisions? And have you forgotten that I was the one who got up and found that note? Have you forgotten that I went into the water after her and nearly died?”
“No one told you to go in the water,” Hanna said under her breath. “Don’t be such a martyr.”
It was too much, and Hanna knew it. Spencer gasped and raised her hand toward Hanna. Hanna ducked away, nearly cracking her head on a coat rack in the hall. “Were you just going to hit me?” she squeaked.
“You deserve it,” Spencer growled through her teeth. “Someone needs to knock some freaking sense into you.”
Hanna’s mouth dropped open. “What about you, Spence? Someone needs to knock you off your high horse.” She lunged for Spencer.
Aria caught her arms and pulled her back. “Guys. Stop.”
“Yes, Spencer, stop being such a bitch!” Hanna wailed.
“I’m being a bitch?” Spencer hissed. And then, before anyone could say anything else, Spencer spun around and marched toward the back door.
“Where are you going?” Aria cried out, taking a few steps after her.
Spencer pushed on the heavy door to open it. “Away from you people.”
“I’ll come with you,” Aria offered.