Spencer could sense them all there, and she wanted to take the time to thank each one of them. But Rubens was motioning her and Hanna forward. She shot them cursory smiles, then hurried after him.
Rubens led them into a conference room with a long wooden table and a huge oil painting of a snub-nosed man in an old-timey George Washington wig. He sat down and folded his hands, then let out a long sigh.
“I’m going to level with you.” Rubens looked back and forth between the two of them. Spencer and Hanna were sitting as far apart as they possibly could, not looking at each other. “I’ve heard rumors that the DA is bringing in a surprise witness. It’s unusual, since they’ve already presented all their witnesses, but it can be done if someone doesn’t agree to testify until late in the game. It’s someone whom they claim will put the nail in the coffin.”
Hanna wrinkled her nose. “Who would that be?”
“Yeah, aside from Ali’s ghost coming in and saying we killed her,” Spencer added drily, fiddling with a button on her blazer.
Rubens tapped his pen on the table. “I’m not really sure who it might be, but it seems like the DA has something up his sleeve—something not good. I’m wondering if it makes the most sense for you girls to enter a plea bargain.”
Spencer flinched. “What?”
The lawyer didn’t look like he was joking. “We make a deal. It’ll mean a very high fine. And it’ll still mean prison time. But it might mean less prison time.”
Spencer stared at him. “But we didn’t do it.”
“We shouldn’t have to go to prison at all,” Hanna added.
Rubens rubbed his temples. “I understand that. But what you girls are looking for—absolute exoneration—it might not happen. I just want to manage your expectations.”
Spencer sat back. “You’re supposed to prove to the jury that this crime can’t be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt. All the cops have are a tooth and some blood and us at the scene when we weren’t supposed to be there. Emily freaking out, all this stuff about our pasts—it doesn’t make us killers. Why are we giving up?”
Rubens shrugged. “It’s true that the lack of Alison’s body should be important, and I’m going to emphasize that in my closing statements. I’m not giving up, okay? I’m just throwing this out there as an option.” Then he stood. “Think about it, okay? We’re in recess for another few hours. We could end this today.”
And go to prison immediately? Spencer thought, her stomach pulling. No, thanks.
Rubens exited into the hall, leaving Spencer and Hanna alone. Spencer glanced at her old friend, feeling awkward. “This sucks,” Hanna finally mumbled.
Spencer nodded. She stared at the lacrosse bracelet on Hanna’s wrist, wanting to say something. Anything. If only she could reach over and give Hanna a big hug and all would be forgiven.
Then she noticed something tucked into Hanna’s bag. It looked like an invitation. Spencer squinted harder, noticing Hanna’s own name, along with Mike’s. Hanna Marin and Michelangelo Montgomery invite you to their wedding at the Chanticleer mansion this Saturday at eight o’clock in the evening.
It stung, especially because she hadn’t been invited.
Hanna noticed Spencer looking at the invites. Her face paled. “Oh, Spence. Actually—here.” She plunged her hand into the bag and handed her an invite.
Spencer stared at it. Her head shot up. “You don’t have to invite me just because I happened to see this.”
Hanna’s eyes were wide. “No, I want to invite you!” She laughed nervously. “Spence, I want to be friends again. That argument was stupid. We need to get past it, don’t you think?”
Spencer rolled her jaw. She wanted to believe Hanna, but something about what she’d just said didn’t sit right. She couldn’t get their argument out of her mind. Don’t be such a martyr. No one had ever been that mean to her, not even Melissa.
Then she realized what it was. Hanna hadn’t said she was sorry for blaming Spencer for Emily’s death. What she really, really wanted was an apology. Not a wedding invitation.
Hanna stared at her with big doe eyes. Spencer straightened her spine and handed the invite back. “I’m busy that night,” she said in a clipped voice, then swung around and marched out the door.
“Spencer!” Hanna said, chasing her. Spencer kept going, outpacing Hanna.
Spencer pushed through the back entrance, her emotions scrambled both from Hanna’s invitation and Rubens’s suggestion for a plea bargain. Should they do that? It would put an end to the trial and the persecution. But making a deal meant they were guilty of something—and they weren’t. Spencer didn’t want to go to prison for less time; she didn’t want to go at all.
She shut her eyes and thought again of Angela naming that outlandish price to help Spencer to disappear. She’d racked her brain but had come up with no other way to find the money. The prospect was as good as dead.
“Spencer.”
She whirled around. Melissa was hustling behind her down the ramp from the courthouse. Spencer’s jaw dropped. “You were in there?”
Melissa nodded. “I had to see how things were going.” She cast her eyes downward, looking about as defeated as Spencer felt. “I didn’t realize it was so bad, honey. Need a hug?”
Tears filled Spencer’s eyes. She melted into her sister, squeezing her tightly. Then Melissa patted her arm. “C’mon. I’ll drive you home. I canceled your car service.”