The dark-haired cop reached for a pair of handcuffs and clapped them around Ali’s wrists. “Let’s all go down to the station so we can talk. You, too, Mrs. . . .” He looked searchingly at Ali’s mom, then shrugged and clapped cuffs around her wrists, too.
Mrs. D looked stunned. “We’re not the ones you want.” She nodded her head toward Emily. “It’s her.”
“Oh, we’re bringing her, too,” the dark-haired cop murmured. “We’ll get all this sorted out.”
It took all of the first cop’s strength to restrain Ali enough to get her into the squad car, and Mrs. D howled the whole way to the curb. Emily, however, walked calmly and patiently. She could feel a big smile spreading across her face. Sure, the cops would bring her in and ask her questions. But she knew she wouldn’t be in trouble. Once they realized who Ali was—once they realized everything—she wouldn’t be in trouble at all.
A second police cruiser had pulled up, and two officers loaded Mrs. D and Ali into the backseat. Just as Ali was about to climb inside, she twisted around and gave Emily a damning look. Her features were small and tight. She was so angry that her jaw was shaking.
“This isn’t over,” she hissed at Emily, little droplets of spit flying from her mouth. “We’re not even close to being done.”
But Emily knew they were. She knew, finally, she’d won.
31
THE GANG’S ALL HERE
Present, Monday,
Rosewood, Pennsylvania
“Emily?” Hanna gaped at the girl at the front of the courtroom. It was the most incredible thing she’d ever seen. There was Emily, whole, undamaged, bright-eyed, almost excited looking at the front of the courtroom. Not pulled out of the water, dead. Not huddled in a corner, crazy. Alive. Smiling.
Hanna tore down the aisle to her friend. Emily stretched her arms out and gave her a huge hug. It felt so good to breathe in Emily’s lemony smell and look into her eyes. Hanna didn’t even realize she was crying until she tried to speak and her words came out all blubbery. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “You’re . . . here. Really here!”
“I’m here,” Emily answered, tearing up, too. “I’m just sorry I’m late. You had to go to prison. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Hanna waved her hand. “You’re alive,” she whispered. “That’s all that matters.”
The others had approached and flocked around Emily, too. “How is this possible?” Spencer asked.
“How did you survive that storm?” Aria cried.
“Where have you been?” Hanna asked. She wondered, too, why Emily was back here. Had she survived only to turn herself in?
But Emily was looking back at the doors through which they’d all just come. Hanna swiveled around, too, and so did everyone else in the courtroom—which was mostly empty except for the judge, the lawyers, and some official-looking note-taking people. The double doors had opened, and someone new had just been escorted through. Hanna’s jaw dropped.
“Ali?” she whispered.
At least she thought it was Ali. The girl’s hair was stringy and brown. Layers of fat concealed her fine-boned face and made her blue eyes look all squishy and piggish. The black T-shirt she was wearing didn’t remotely fit across her stomach or her boobs. A single thought bubbled to the surface of Hanna’s mind: If this girl had been at Rosewood Day, and if the old Ali were still around, she would have ruthlessly made fun of her. Ali had become her own worst nightmare.
The rest of the courtroom exploded into whispers as a guard led Ali to the front of the court. Ali shuffled despondently. Hanna’s heart was pounding so hard. Their almost-killer, the mastermind who’d gotten them sentenced to life in prison, was standing just feet away. Part of her wanted to break free from the others and pummel Ali to the ground. Another part wanted to run far away as fast as she could.
She wheeled around and stared at Emily. All at once, she understood why Emily was here. It wasn’t a coincidence that both Emily and Ali were in the courthouse at the same time. Somehow, Emily had survived her death and . . . found Ali, wherever she’d been hiding.
She gawked at her friend. “I don’t believe it.”
“Where was she?” Aria asked at the same time, her eyes wide.
Emily gave them a patient smile. “I’ll tell you the whole story soon,” she whispered.
They all turned back to Ali, who was standing at the judge’s bench, her head down. The judge looked from Ali to the girls. “It seems we have another surprise witness,” he said wryly. “The murdered girl, arisen from the dead.”
Ali’s head snapped up. “They did try to kill me,” she suddenly blurted. “You don’t understand. They did everything I said in my journal. They tied me up. They hurt me. Everything I told you is true.”
“Yeah, right,” Spencer shouted.
Ali sneered at them, her face twisted and terrible. “They’re horrible bitches,” she told the judge. “They deserve to go to jail.”