“No,” Ali almost shrieked.
“Why not? They’ll understand. They won’t care that you kept this from them, if that’s what you’re worried about. People keep things from people all the time.”
“Yeah, you know that all too well,” Ali snapped.
Mrs. DiLaurentis flinched. Reflexively, she raised her hand to Ali, and Ali thought she was going to slap her again, but she only used it to push a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Let’s not get into that again,” she said in an even tone.
Ali gritted her teeth. Did her mother just expect her to forget everything? There was a man out there who was her real father—she was sure of it—someone her mother was keeping from her. She was determined to find out who it was. She’d considered telling Mr. DiLaurentis, but then she’d decided that it was more powerful to wait until she uncovered the man’s identity.
When she turned back to the window, Emily was in the yard now, too, wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a nondescript blue T-shirt. She and Aria were joking around near Ali’s flower bushes. And then Ali had another thought: If she didn’t go out soon, her friends would ring the doorbell. Maybe they’d insist on coming in the house. What if Courtney appeared at the top of the stairs? What if the girls wanted to go upstairs, into Ali’s room, and Courtney loomed in the doorway?
She nudged open the front door with her toe and flounced out to greet them. The hem of her field hockey skirt, which she’d worn to the team’s end-of-the-year party this afternoon, fluttered in the breeze.
“You guys!” she crowed in the happiest voice she could muster.
Her friends looked up at her. For a moment, Ali was sure they knew everything. A split second later, though, they were all smiling as though nothing was amiss. Maybe they really didn’t know something was amiss. Emily perked up visibly, the other day’s transgressions seemingly forgotten—at least for now. Spencer and Hanna, who had just arrived in the yard, too, came toward them, and the girls convened in a group hug. But as Ali clung tightly to her friends, she glanced over her shoulder just in time to see a curtain on the second floor of her house flutter. It was the guest room. A figure stood at the window, staring at them.
“Your barn,” she said to Spencer, breaking away and steering them through the hedges. She needed to get off this property, fast.
Blessedly, the girls followed behind her like good little sheep. But her sister’s face haunted her as the five of them moaned about how long the school year had been. And when she heard someone calling “Hey, Alison! Hey, Spencer!” her stomach seized. It sounded, for a moment, like her sister’s voice.
She turned around and saw Mona Vanderwaal and her band of geeks coming toward them. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around Mona in relief. Instead, she blurted, “Not it!”
“Not it,” her friends said milliseconds after.
Mona rolled up on her scooter. Chassey Bledsoe and Phi Templeton followed behind, Chassey on a mountain bike, Phi on foot with her trusty, ridiculous yo-yo.
“You guys want to come over and watch Fear Factor?” Mona asked.
“Sorry,” Ali simpered, dredging up the appropriate level of nastiness. “We’re kind of busy.”
Then she whipped around and trotted off. Her friends followed. When she rolled her eyes, they rolled theirs, too. They don’t know, she thought, her heartbeat slowing down. They don’t suspect anything. But then she peeked toward her house again. The light was still on in the guest room, and that face was still at the window. To Ali’s horror, Hanna was squinting at the window, too.
Ali yanked her arm. “C’mon,” she said.
They walked the line between Ali’s backyard and Spencer’s. A huge, garishly yellow bulldozer was parked at the back next to a cone-shaped pile of dirt. “I’m so happy the workers aren’t here right now,” Ali said loudly, making sure everyone’s attention was on her—and not on the window.
Emily stiffened. “Are they saying stuff to you again?”
“Easy, there, Killer,” Ali joked, and the girls giggled. She glanced over her shoulder once more. The light in the window was off now. The face was gone. But was her sister going to sit idly by in her room all night like a good little girl? It seemed impossible.
The barn was just ahead. Ali led the others toward it, praying that her sister wasn’t watching from the kitchen to see where they were going. What if their mother took her eyes off her? What if she got out?
Giggles sounded from inside the barn. “I said, stop it!” a voice squealed. It was definitely Melissa.
Spencer stopped short. “Oh God. What is she doing here?”
Ali looked at Spencer sharply. “I thought you said your sister was in Prague.”
“I did.” Spencer flung the door open to reveal Melissa and Ian lounging on the couch, several bottles of beer between them. Melissa shot up and adjusted her headband. Ian’s eyes canvassed the girls, his smile lazy and beguiling.
“Were you spying on us?” Ian teased.
Spencer looked horrified. “It’s just . . . I didn’t mean to barge in. . . . We’re supposed to have this place tonight.”
Ian playfully hit Spencer’s arm. “I was just messing with you.”
A spark seemed to pass between them, which, in turn, sent a rush of possessiveness through Ali’s body. “Wow,” she said loudly. “You two make the kuh-yoo-test couple. Don’t you agree, Spence?”
Spencer blinked hard. Melissa gave Ali a strange look, then tugged on Ian’s shoulder. “Can I talk to you outside for a sec?”