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"Birds Of A Feather"

Night had fallen fast over Rosewood

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Night had fallen fast over Rosewood. That sort of thing happened often now the summer months were over. Autumn had rolled in with crisp breezes and golden trees before the winter inevitably stole away the leaves. It was quiet, only a faint buzz of the small town filling the air. Halle Brewster and her friends were amongst the clatter of the Apple Rose Grille, sat around a table as they demolished a slice of chocolate cake.

Halle had finished up a shift when Aria, Emily and Hanna showed up for coffee and cake. Then, it was getting to be the last ten minutes of her shift when Spencer arrived with her mother and sister, the former plopping herself down at the table with her friends while her family waited for their order. Halle only prayed they'd be gone by time Jason arrived to pick her up. Things has been tense this past weekend, with unanswered calls and aggravated conversations over Garrett Reynolds' trial. Halle didn't even get peace when she hung out with her friends; that was always the subject of interest.

"Do we really believe that Jenna was off on a joyride that night?" wondered Aria, as Hanna merrily finished off the remnants of cake in the middle of them.

"Or—" Spencer put in, "was her plan to take Emily to Ali's grave all along."

"I'm leaning to into the latter," Halle said.

"Seemed to me like she was scared of someone," Emily replied, hands warmed by the last of her coffee.

"And it seemed like she was blind for five months when she wasn't," retorted Aria, shooting Emily a look from across the table.

Halle gave soft hum, "Jenna is a good liar."

Hanna, on the other hand, cracked. Her hand came out, her arm bent at it's elbow, and she argued, "Okay — for the purposes of my head not exploding, could we just say that she is telling the truth?"

Folding her arms over her chest, Spencer explained, "Well, that would mean that we would cross her off the new A-list."

"Then who's still on it?" Aria asked.

"Lucas?" Emily inserted.

"No way." Hanna refused to believe it. She remarked, "He might be a little unhinged lately, but he's not capable of digging up a grave."

"Just smashing up a memorial, then," quipped Halle knowingly, which shot Hanna down. "But yes—" Halle considered what her friend had said, "Lucas is a little whimpish to dig six feet on his own."

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