❝ I genuinely thought the worst of this nightmare was over ❞
Halle Brewster told a lie, and the secrets kept growing. After slaying one stalker, another reared its nasty head, and Halle was starting to wonder if she'd ever be free from the friendshi...
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Mornings in Rosewood were busy, especially when the weather peaked. The sun was out, beating down on the centre green in town, and brought out residents for breakfast. Halle Brewster and her friends were making their way towards their new favourite hang-out spot — The Brew, the coffee shop where Emily worked — while Hanna worried over her latest close-call encounter with Detective Wilden.
"That's why A wants Garrett out of jail," Hanna recounted, "so I can take his place."
"Okay — don't go there," Emily reproached, shutting down that idea.
"It's already past there, Emily," argued Hanna, incessantly shrill in tone. She listed out a series of events that led to that morning confrontation. "He knows about the note, he caught me at the church, and it's my blood type."
Guilt stirred up inside of Halle. That settled feeling she got at the church, when Jason came to her with new of elation — him finally at peace with his sister set to receive justice — vanished as quick as it sank in. It was the next day, in the kitchen, watching Jason tear into himself over his mistake. The anklet of Alison's didn't do what they had hoped — it proven Garrett was innocence — and now Wilden was fishing closer to home than ever.
With Hanna.
"So what?" Aria shot out incredulously. She offered out her hand as she spoke, trying to provoke calmness among them not anxiety. "You didn't kill anybody."
Crunch.
Again, Halle heard the rock hit Alison. She cringed as she stomach lurched. From where she drifted a step or two behind the four, her dark eyes found the back of Hanna's head. Her brain still blocked her from any further memories from that night. Halle just knew the drive she held to protect one of them. Was it Hanna? Halle didn't know. She was looking at all her friends differently, wondering which one she protected — which one she chose over Alison's life.
But there were false memories, Halle told herself. Alison was hit with a shovel, Wilden told them as much. A had set them up with the murder weapon on their Chucky-doll quest to locate Dr Sullivan. So what needless torment had Halle created for herself, and why?
A helpless sigh escaped Hanna. Finally, she noticed Halle was behind when she turned her head to ask the cheerleader a question. "Wilden said that Ali's family's been slamming him. Has Jason said anything?" she asked, worried.
"No," said Halle quietly. "He's too busy beating himself up over it to slam the cops, Han. All I hear is the shouting down the phone — his dad berating him, and Jason just takes it."
Spencer let of a groan, "I can't even look Jason in the eye."
Halle glared at Spencer. "He went and found that anklet with you," she accused, "you should talk to him."
