Beep.
Hanna fumbled for her bag. She lifted her phone out and looked at the screen. One new e-mail.
Take this, bitch! —A
The attached file contained a series of images. The first was a picture of a BMW crumpled against a tree. Though blurred by the rain, Hanna could easily make out her face in the driver’s seat. The second image was of that same night, only Hanna was out of the car and talking on the phone. In the third image, Hanna was moving Madison Zeigler’s body into the driver’s seat where she’d just been. Somehow, the other girls weren’t in the picture—it looked like Hanna was doing it alone. And of course the picture didn’t show the car that had swerved into her lane, pushing her off the road.
Hanna placed her hand against her mouth.
Next to her, Emily quietly gasped. She was staring at something on her phone, too. Hanna looked over, raising an eyebrow.
Emily showed Hanna the screen. On it was a picture of Emily and a pretty, dark-haired girl kissing on the deck of the cruise ship.
“Jordan?” Hanna whispered. Emily nodded miserably.
The FBI officer glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “We know you’ve been in touch with Katherine DeLong. Aiding and abetting is a crime.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” Emily cried.
Their phones beeped once more. Hanna looked down at the screens, both of them cheerfully flashing ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE.
They both opened the message at the same time. Emily let out a small whimper. Hanna read it and winced.
Time to pay for your sins. —A
8
COMING CLEAN
Spencer had been sitting in a holding cell at the Philadelphia FBI branch office for more than an hour now. The room was small and dim, with a splintery table and absolutely nothing for her to do—they’d taken her phone and purse—except to pace back and forth. The only object in here was a plastic cup that had once been full of water. A heater rattled in the ceiling. The whole place smelled vaguely of grape Popsicles.
She made another lap around the room, her mind spinning. She didn’t get why Officer Gates had brought her to the FBI. Shouldn’t her crime be handled by local police? Or was drug possession a bigger thing? What if she was headed to federal prison? She shut her eyes, seeing her future at Princeton float down the drain. Of course this was Ali’s next move. She’d been an idiot not to anticipate it.
The door swung open, and Spencer leapt to attention. Aria appeared. Officer Gates and a man with FBI emblazoned on his jacket in blue thread pushed Hanna and Emily inside as well.
A had gotten them, too.
Gates looked at Emily and Hanna. “Empty your pockets and give me your purses. I want your keys, phones, and any other personal items.”
Hanna and Emily did as they were told. Aria just shrugged, seemingly already stripped of her belongings. Then the agents handed them cups of water and backed out of the room. The metal door closed with a clunk.
Everyone slumped down at the table. Spencer touched Emily’s hand. “Jordan? Or Gayle?” she asked in a low voice.
Emily hung her head. “The FBI knows I was in touch with . . .” She trailed off. “What if they ask me where she is?”
“Do you know where Jordan is?” Spencer whispered.
Emily was about to answer, but then Spencer caught her arm and glanced around. They might be listening, she mouthed. A mirror hung on a far wall. For all she knew, the agents were observing them on the other side.
Emily shifted her chair closer and whispered into Spencer’s ear. “I don’t know where she is.”
Aria cupped her hands around her mouth and spoke softly, too. “Well, at least you won’t be extradited. I might spend the next twenty years in an Icelandic prison for breaking and entering and helping—even though the painting was a fake.”
Hanna pushed her hair around her face and said in a low voice, “Guys, what if the press realizes why we’re here?” Her eyes glinted with tears. “It’s going to ruin my dad’s campaign.”
“My mom was there when the cops came for me.” Spencer thought about the horrific scene at the house. “You should have seen the look on her face.”
Emily looked shiftily back and forth. “Why now?”
Aria laid her head on the table. “Maybe I’m being punished for trying to get answers out of Noel.”
“No, it’s because I went to The Preserve,” Emily insisted. Spencer looked at her, surprised. Emily filled her in.
“Maybe it’s because I told Mike,” Hanna murmured.
Spencer felt a lump in her throat. “I’m to blame, too. I tracked down the building from that surveillance photo. The one that had Ali in it.”
Hanna’s head whipped up. “You did? What happened?” Her voice rose in volume, and she clapped her mouth shut.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Aria said under her breath.
Spencer hunched her shoulders and looked at the others. “Ali wasn’t there. I don’t think she’d ever been there. I guess it was a trap all along.”
“We never should have pursued any of this,” Emily hissed. “Noel wasn’t punishment enough—Ali needed to make us pay. And she had all the ammo she needed.”
“I guess we just lost sight of everything A knew about us,” Aria said softly.
Spencer looked around. “But why are we here, at the FBI? I mean, yes, Emily and Aria, it makes sense for you guys. But why did they bring all of us here? Why are we in the same room?”
Emily picked at her fingernail. “Well, you know who works for the FBI. Fuji.”