It was easier said than done, though, because the image of Gayle’s ashen, bloodless face kept leaping into Aria’s mind. The news had talked about nothing but Gayle’s murder all morning, and everyone was hysterical that another Rosewood killer might be on the loose. Miraculously, Aria and the others weren’t mentioned in the story. Last night, when Spencer’s dad found out the girls had been taken to the police station for questioning about Gayle’s murder, he’d immediately left his apartment in Philadelphia, driven to Rosewood, and had a long talk with Lieutenant Lowry, who happened to be the son of one of his best friends. Because there was no evidence that the girls had actually done anything, because the girls had been through so much media scrutiny the previous year, and because Mr. Clark wasn’t pressing charges for trespassing, the cops had agreed not to release the girls’ names to the press.
There was a lot of speculation in the press about who Gayle’s killer might be—someone after Gayle’s money, or an enemy of her husband’s, or a partner from a business deal gone sour. No one had guessed that the Pretty Little Liars were involved.
The idea that Gayle wasn’t A and that A had set a trap for them at Gayle’s house terrified Aria—whoever they were dealing with was diabolical and brilliant. And they still didn’t know what had happened to Emily’s baby, if anything. None of them had received a message from A since the one that appeared in Emily’s inbox at the benefit, so maybe the whole thing—including the crying baby sounds—was a bluff. One good thing had happened: Early that morning, Aria received a text from Hanna saying she’d finally tracked down the address of the family who had adopted Violet, using her dad’s voter records. They live in Chestnut Hill, the text said. Em wants to drive by the house, and she wants us to go with her. They arranged to drive there later that night. Hanna had added that she’d asked to borrow Kate’s car—it might be good to take one that people didn’t associate with any of them. Aria understood why without Hanna having to explain: An unrecognizable car meant A was less likely to follow them. If A was on the loose—and had no trouble killing people—they couldn’t run the risk of leading A straight to Violet.
Now move into downward-facing dog, said the lilting voice in Aria’s headphones.
Aria placed her hands on the carpet and pointed her butt in the air. She heard footsteps and looked up. Meredith leaned against the doorjamb, her fingers worrying an apron around her waist. “I thought you said you weren’t into yoga.”
Aria sat up quickly, feeling caught. “Uh . . .” She trailed off, not able to find an appropriate excuse.
Meredith sat down on the edge of the couch and flicked the tassels on one of the pillows. “It was really nice to talk to you about that stuff between me and your dad the other day.”
Aria’s mouth twitched. “Um, yeah,” she mumbled, not sure if she meant it.
“I’ve never been able to tell anyone about how hard things were,” Meredith went on. “I realize you weren’t the right person, and I understand that you probably don’t care if things were difficult for me or not. But I do know that I hurt you. And I want you to know that I never meant to. I didn’t want to break up your family. I feel terrible about that every day.”
“Think about how I felt,” Aria said, feeling a rush of anger. “I felt like I would break up my family if I didn’t keep the secret. But I also felt like I was betraying my mom for not saying anything.”
“I know,” Meredith said earnestly. “And I’m sorry about that. But after things were out in the open, did you feel better?”
Aria arched her back, examining the wooden pendant light hanging from the ceiling. “It was awful hiding it. The anticipation of getting found out was even worse than people knowing the truth. I guess I did feel better eventually.”
Meredith twisted the promise ring Byron had given her around her finger. “Can I ask you something? Did you ask me all that stuff because you were curious about me, or because you were dealing with a secret of your own? Something you didn’t want to tell anyone?”
Aria’s head shot up, and for a moment, she feared A had sent Meredith a message, telling her everything. But Meredith’s expression was innocent—caring, even. Like it mattered to her what happened to Aria. For a moment, she almost felt like—well, not a mother, exactly, but family.
“Something like that,” Aria mumbled into her chest.
“Are you okay?”
Aria shrugged, not answering.
Meredith sighed, then touched Aria’s knee. “I’m really sorry. Secrets can eat you alive. They break down your soul. It’s always better to have things out in the open.”
Aria nodded, wishing Meredith would have told her that a few days ago instead of blathering on about how keeping secrets was sometimes in one’s best interest. No more secrets, Noel had said to Aria last week. Of course he had a right to be furious with her—she’d kept something huge from him, something he deserved to know. How could she expect to have a real relationship with him if she didn’t share her most intimate feelings, those things that either made or broke a couple? It was what Noel wanted. It was what Aria wanted, too—with him.
All of a sudden, a door opened in her mind. She checked her watch. Noel probably hadn’t left for school yet. With any luck, she could catch him . . . and try to fix things.
Noel’s telltale stomping footsteps sounded from the other side of his front door. “What are you doing here?” he said gruffly when he opened it and saw Aria.