“But Courtney had an alibi for that night,” Melissa went on, brushing a piece of blood-soaked hair from her eyes. “And then Billy came along, and suddenly everything seemed to make sense.”
Aria huddled closer to Hanna.
“But when Courtney showed up,” Melissa said, pulling the sleeves of her filthy cashmere sweater over her hands, “I couldn’t stop thinking about all the inconsistencies in Billy’s case.”
The fire crackled for a few moments. Something crashed from behind the house. Emily flinched, and Spencer grabbed her hand.
“I followed Courtney…Ali…a lot,” Melissa admitted. “It wasn’t until I went to the Preserve that I knew for sure what had happened.”
Spencer’s mouth dropped open. The pamphlet of the Preserve she’d seen in Melissa’s room. The appointment with the therapist. “So that’s why you went there?”
A stream of sparks erupted from the top of the house, into the air. “I talked to Ali’s old roommate, Iris,” Melissa said. “And she knew everything—even that you were going to be her roommate, Hanna.”
“Oh God,” Hanna moaned, her shoulders going limp.
Spencer placed her palms on the top of her head. They’d missed so many clues. Ali had set a brilliant trap…and they’d walked right into it. She looked at her sister. “Why didn’t you tell me this stuff about the Preserve earlier?”
“I only went there this morning.” White steam emerged from Melissa’s mouth. It was getting colder out by the second. “I was on my way to the police station afterward, but someone jumped me in the parking lot. When I woke up, I was in the trunk. I recognized Ali’s voice.”
Spencer stared blankly as the old teak swing set behind the house caught fire. Ali must have grabbed Melissa after she came over to Spencer’s to get ready for the dance. She never should have told Ali that Melissa had warned Spencer to keep her distance….
Then another thought struck her. “Did you say Ali threw you into the trunk of her car?”
Melissa nodded, loosening a dry, charred leaf from her matted blond hair.
“You were there on our drive up here,” Spencer gasped, the knobs of her spine pressing into the rough trunk of the tree. “You were with us the whole time.”
“I knew I heard something,” Aria whispered.
They were silent for a few moments, staring dazedly at the house. The fire crackled and hissed. Far off, another sound emerged. It sounded like sirens.
Melissa struggled to stand, still leaning against the big tree. “Can I see the note she wrote you?”
Spencer reached into her hoodie, searching for the letter, but the pockets were empty. She looked at Emily. “Do you have it?”
Emily shook her head. Aria and Hanna looked clueless, too.
Everyone turned to the ruined house. If the note had slipped out of Spencer’s hands, it was nothing but ash now.
Just then, a fire truck screamed up the driveway. Three firemen jumped out and began to unroll the hoses into the lake. A fourth fireman ran to the girls. “Are you okay?” He immediately radioed for an ambulance and the police. “How did this happen?”
Spencer looked at the others. “Someone tried to kill us,” she said. And then she burst into tears.
“Spence,” Emily said, touching Spencer’s shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Aria cooed. Hanna hugged her, too, and so did Melissa.
But Spencer couldn’t stop crying. How had they not suspected Ali was behind this? How had they been so blind? Ali had said a lot of the right things, too—exactly what they all wanted to hear: I missed you guys. I’m so sorry. I want things to change. She’d told Spencer you’re the sister I’ve always wanted. Spencer was putty in her hands. They all were…and they’d all almost died for it.
The fireman slid his walkie-talkie back into his pocket, and the girls broke apart. “The ambulance is on its way,” he said, and beckoned for the girls to follow him.
As they climbed the slope, moving farther from the house, Spencer poked her sister’s arm. “You had to figure this out before me, didn’t you?” she teased, wiping away tears. Leave it to Melissa to one-up her even with this.
Melissa blushed. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Spencer said back.
The smoldering house loomed in the distance. Beds and chairs and dressers crashed through the brittle flooring to the first level, sending up fiery plumes. Emily stared hard at the flames as if searching for something. Spencer touched her arm. “You okay?”
Emily pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. She glanced at the fireman. “There was someone in the house when it exploded. Is there any chance she’s…?”
The fireman stared at the remains of the house and scratched his stubbly chin. He shook his head gravely. “No one could have survived that fire. I’m sorry, girls, but she’s gone.”
32
HANNA MARIN, TRULY FABULOUS
“Here we go.” Hanna plunked down a stiff cardboard holder of four hot coffees on the café table. “One skim cappuccino, one regular latte, and one café au lait with soy milk.”
“Sweet,” Aria said, grabbing a packet of Sugar In The Raw. She tore it open with her neon-yellow-painted nails. Aria kept telling Hanna and the others that neon yellow was the hottest color in Europe, but no one had been brave enough to try it yet.
“It’s about time,” Spencer grumbled, taking a greedy sip of her cappuccino. She’d been cramming for the big AP econ pre-exam all week and had just pulled an all-nighter.