In a parallel universe, Aria, Emily, and Spencer would be her bridesmaids—and they’d do an awesome job. Spencer would be fantastic at organizing the table seating and keeping the caterers in line. Aria would make such adorable homemade favors for the guests. Emily would give a tearful, heartfelt speech that would bring down the house. Even though Hanna knew it wasn’t possible, she’d gone ahead and ordered three sequined headbands for the girls anyway, as if they really were her bridesmaids. They’d be the perfect accessory for the Vera Wang bridesmaids dresses Hanna had picked out—though not bought, she wasn’t that crazy. And when the headbands had arrived that morning, Hanna had gotten such an overwhelming wave of sadness she’d had to splash her face with cold water. The worst was seeing the headband she’d picked out for Emily among the others. It had a sequined butterfly on it, and was a shiny blue that would have matched Emily’s coloring perfectly.
Hanna realized she’d never answered Kate’s question, but they were now pulling up to the courthouse, so she just said that she had to go and hung up. After they parked, Hanna and her mother had to fight through an onslaught of reporters, microphones, and cameras to the main entrance. A man caught her eye as she pushed through the doors to the courtroom. Hanna looked away fast. It was Ali’s father. He’d attended the proceedings religiously, sitting quietly in the back. She wondered if he reported on the proceedings to his wife every evening. Told her how the state was totally going to win this case. Assured her that justice would be done. She remembered, suddenly, something Emily had said in Cape May, when she’d found out Mrs. D wasn’t attending the trial—that a mother would definitely be there unless she had at least a hunch her daughter wasn’t dead. Then again, maybe Mrs. D just hated them as much as everybody else in America did—in the world, really.
Soon Hanna was sitting at her regular post next to Rubens, inhaling his sickly sweet cologne. He grunted a hello to her, and she grunted back. Hanna was still pissed at him for suggesting the plea bargain idea the other day. Then again, maybe Rubens was pissed at her and Spencer for not taking him up on it.
Rubens turned to Hanna, and then Spencer, who’d taken her seat on his other side. “I have some news. First of all, I just got word that Aria Montgomery has been found.”
Hanna’s heart went still. “I-is she okay?”
“Where was she?” Spencer asked.
“Outside Brussels. The police are bringing them back now. She won’t make it to the rest of the trial except for the jury sentencing.”
“Wait, you said them,” Hanna said. “Was someone with Aria?”
“Her boyfriend, I believe.” Rubens glanced at his phone. “They’re bringing him back, too.”
Hanna clapped a hand over her mouth. Noel had followed Aria to Europe? She swore Mike had told her he’d gone to his parents’ house in Colorado. She wondered what Mike thought about this, and swiveled around to the back of the courtroom to look for him. But Mike wasn’t in his normal seat.
“Second thing,” Rubens said. “The prosecution is indeed calling a surprise witness.”
“Ali?” Hanna blurted out before she could think.
Spencer snorted. Rubens shook his head. “No, of course not. Nick Maxwell.”
All sound died away. Hanna suddenly felt numb. “W-what does that mean?”
Spencer looked excited. “This could be good. Nick hates Ali. What he said in that news article proved it. He could dispute everything in that journal.”
Rubens made a sour face. “He’s the prosecution’s witness, though, which means he isn’t going to say anything disparaging about that journal. The prosecution probably cut him a deal to change his story.”
Hanna gasped. “They can do that?”
“That’s not fair!” Spencer said at the same time.
Rubens uncapped his bottled water and took a long swig. “I never said the law was fair. But don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.”
Spencer wrinkled her nose. “You, an idea?” she said under her breath.
Hanna shot her a smile. She’d been thinking the same thing. Spencer glanced at her for a moment, almost like the ice was about to crack, but then looked away.
Judge Pierrot emerged from his chambers and settled down on his bench. The jury filed in as well, and the bailiff went through his usual spiel of everyone rising and blah, blah, blah. Then Nicholas Maxwell was called to the witness stand.
The back doors flew open, and two guards walked Nick, who was still in his orange prison jumpsuit and ankle and wrist chains, to the front of the room. His head was down, but Hanna still caught him shooting a conspiratorial smile in Reginald’s direction. She balled up her fist. They did have a deal. What was Nick going to say?
“Mr. Maxwell,” Reginald said, strutting up to the witness stand once Nick had been sworn in. “According to some sources, you’ve done some terrible things. Is that right?”
Nick shrugged. “I guess.”
“Alison DiLaurentis wrote that you coerced her into murdering a lot of people. That it was your idea to kill her sister, Courtney. Your idea to kill Ian Thomas and Jenna Cavanaugh and set fire to the Hastings’s property. That you beat her and manipulated her and basically made her your captor. Is that true?”
Nick stared at his shackled feet. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Yeah,” he finally grunted.
Hanna shut her eyes. Unbelievable. She nudged Rubens. “He wasn’t saying that in prison the other day.”
“So basically, you and Alison weren’t having a love affair, as Ms. Hastings, Ms. Marin, and the other girls purported,” the DA said. “You were torturing her. Keeping her alive and making her help you.”
Nick nodded almost imperceptibly. Hanna clamped down on Rubens’s wrist, but he shook her off. It wasn’t. Freaking. Fair.