by Sara Shepard
“How can I not panic?” Aria cried. “Don’t you see? A figured out a poetic end for us, tossing us out to sea just like the waves washed away Tabitha. Even if we survive, what’s the use? A is going to find us again and do something even worse.”
“Don’t say that,” Spencer soothed. “We’re going to beat A. We’re going to find a way.” But as she stared into the dimming light, she realized that everything Aria was saying was true. Being marooned at sea seemed like the worst possible death, but if they survived, who was to say A wouldn’t come up with something even scarier? How could she live, knowing A had something in store for her just around the corner?
Aria wiped water out of her eyes. “If we get out of this alive, I’m telling the cops what I did in Jamaica.”
Everyone whipped their heads around and stared at her. “No, you’re not,” Spencer hissed.
“I can’t take it anymore!” Aria thrashed her arms. “Don’t you see what’s happening? A is using our guilt and fear to manipulate us—and it could go on forever if we don’t stop it! The only way we free ourselves of A is to confess. Then A has nothing on us.”
The sea was calmer for a moment. Hanna wiped water out of her eyes. Spencer sniffed back tears. Finally, Emily cleared her throat.
“Maybe we should all tell,” she said.
“We can’t let you do that alone, Aria,” Hanna added.
“And it’s true.” A wave splashed Spencer’s left cheek. “A is powerless if we confess. In a weird way, it’ll probably free us. Yeah, we’ll go on trial, and yeah, who knows what our futures will be? But at least A will be gone from our lives.”
Aria swallowed hard. “You guys don’t have to ruin your lives for something I did.”
Spencer rolled her eyes. “For the last time, Aria, we’re in this together. We’re all confessing. We’d never let you take the blame alone.”
Then, through an unspoken understanding, they swam together and formed a protective ring. It felt, suddenly, like they were real and true best friends. Even sisters.
Spencer squinted at something in the distance. “What’s that?” Every so often, once a wave passed, something white cut through the water.
Aria’s mouth dropped open. “A boat!”
Hanna waved her arms over her head. “Hey!”
“Over here!” Emily screamed.
The low growl of an engine sounded over the raging tide. The boat headed straight for them. Hanna let out a quasi-hysterical laugh. “They see us!”
The boat crested atop a wave and then bounced down its face. It looked like a fishing vessel, with nets strung over the sides and poles jutting up from the hull. The driver had on a khaki fishing hat that was pulled far over his eyes. Spencer wondered if it was someone from the cruise ship.
“Grab on!” a voice cried. A rope appeared in the water. Spencer struggled for it, but just as she was about to reach out, Aria pulled her foot.
“Don’t,” she said in a low voice.
Spencer was about to protest, but then she followed Aria’s wide-eyed gaze. A girl was standing on the deck. Spencer’s head started to spin.
Naomi.
“Grab on!” Naomi said again. She reeled in the rope and threw it out again like a fishing line. When none of them took the bait, she narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong with you people? Do you want to drown?”
“Swim away!” Spencer screamed, wheeling around in the water. “We have to get away from her!”
But then another voice called out from the boat. “Hurry, girls, please! We need to get you to safety!”
Spencer stopped paddling, recognizing the voice. Emily’s mouth dropped open, too. As a wave moved out of the way, a second figure appeared at the railing. He wore a tight pink polo, seersucker shorts, and star-shaped sunglasses. The look on his face was of pure worry and fear.
“Jeremy?” Spencer blurted, blinking hard.
A few other people appeared at the side. That slutty girl Emily was rooming with, Erin. Kirsten Cullen and Mike. Noel.
They were saved.
30
THE LONG RIDE HOME
“Grab on.” Jeremy hung over the side of the boat with his arm outstretched. “I’ll pull you in.”
Hanna’s gaze flicked from Jeremy to Naomi, then to the boat’s captain, a guy with the brim of his hat pulled low. Then she stared at the rest of the rescue party. Familiar and unfamiliar faces gazed concernedly over the side. Mike looked like he was going to start sobbing any minute. Noel Kahn held out his hand for Aria to grab on to, the blood drained from his cheeks.
A wave hit the side of Hanna’s head, and she went under for a moment. As much as she didn’t want to set foot on a vessel with Naomi, the situation felt safe. She was freezing. Her arms and legs had lost all feeling, and, by the woozy way her head was spinning, she was pretty sure she was exhausted.
She grabbed on to the rope and let Jeremy, Noel, and the other kids on the rescue team haul her aboard. Someone threw a big towel over Hanna’s shoulders, and she sat there for a moment, breathing hard. There was a flurry of activity at the rail of the boat as the rescue team hauled Aria, Emily, and Spencer onto the deck. Then Jeremy stood over them, his hands on his hips.
“What the hell were you four thinking, stealing a lifeboat and heading away from shore?” Jeremy shouted. His star-shaped sunglasses fell off, but he made no move to pick them up. “Do you realize how much trouble you’re in? What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Everyone exchanged a glance. Then Spencer stepped forward. “I-I lost something during my dive earlier this afternoon. A family heirloom. I just thought since we were evacuating anyway, we could take a quick trip out to the cove and see if it was there.”
Hanna stared at her, impressed with Spencer’s quick thinking. “When we got to the cove, we all got out and swam around, looking for it,” she added. “And then our life raft deflated.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Don’t think your parents aren’t going to hear about this. And your school.”
Hanna swallowed hard and felt Aria tense next to her. But then, something inside her released. Who cared who Jeremy told? They were about to confess to murder, after all.
A motor grumbled, and Jeremy instructed everyone to sit down. Spencer, Aria, and Emily sat on one end. Noel quickly occupied the last seat next to Aria, leaving Hanna no choice but to take a seat at the other end of the boat. A seat, unfortunately, right next to Naomi.
She sat down, avoiding eye contact. But Naomi was staring at her anyway. “Are you okay?” she asked gruffly.
Hanna turned away, shrugging one shoulder.
“God, Hanna,” Naomi said sharply. “You could at least say thank you.”
Hanna spun back around. “F-for what?” she blurted.
Naomi looked stunned. “Uh, for worrying about you when I saw you idiots go the opposite direction from land? For organizing a rescue team when I didn’t see you on shore? You’re making it really frickin’ hard to be friends.”
Hanna crossed her arms over her chest. “You never wanted to be my friend, Naomi. I know everything. You sank our boat. You wanted us to be stranded. You and Graham.”
“Who?”
Hanna scoffed. “The guy you’re working with.”
Naomi stared at Hanna as though an extra eyeball had sprouted on her forehead. “Gee, Hanna, you’re totally right. Me and Graham, whoever that is, followed you in my secret, super-fast spy boat and then sank your boat so you could die. We’re both complete monsters.”
Yes, you are, Hanna thought weakly, still shivering under the towel. You’re monsters called A.
But something was strange. There was no knowing smile on Naomi’s lips. No bemused expression. No wide-eyed, you-caught-me gasp. Instead, she was shaking her head at Hanna like she was crazy.
Hanna’s mouth tasted salty, and when she breathed in, her lungs felt raspy and raw. Maybe it was the fact that she was exhausted, or maybe it was the fact that they’d decided to confess about Tabitha, but nothing
seemed to matter much anymore. As Hanna stared at Naomi, she felt brave. “I know you know,” she said.
Naomi frowned. “What?”
“You know.” Hanna spoke more forcefully. “I know that you know I drove Madison home the night of the accident. I wasn’t drunk, but a car came out of nowhere, pushing me off the road, and I crashed into a tree. I know that you know I moved Madison to the driver’s seat and left so I wouldn’t get in trouble. You and Madison figured it out, didn’t you?”
Naomi’s hands went limp in her lap, and her face grew pale. “What?”
Hanna took a breath and then glanced at Jeremy, who was talking to the captain. Why did Naomi seem so surprised? Her e-mails with Madison indicated they knew the truth. And her A notes made it clear she knew everything. And yet there she was, her face pale, her eyes darting back and forth, her hands trembling.
It felt like someone had reached into Hanna’s mind and tilted everything ninety degrees. Was it possible she was wrong about Naomi?
“You … didn’t know?” Hanna asked.
Naomi slowly shook her head. Hanna turned away and stared at the moon overhead, then at a fishing sticker on the side of the boat, then at Jeremy’s stupid sunglasses, trying to hold onto something stable and knowable. If Naomi didn’t know Hanna had been with Madison, then she had no reason to be after Hanna. And if she had no reason to be after Hanna, why was she A?
Was she A?
It felt like someone had just told her the sky was green, the water orange. Hanna looked at Naomi. She seemed as vulnerable and disarmed as she had during karaoke, or at the club, or at the gym when she’d begged Hanna to hang out. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She bit on her bottom lip over and over again until it was red and raw.
Hanna clapped a hand over her mouth. All at once, she felt sick with remorse. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I thought you knew everything.”
Naomi’s eyes blazed. Her lips twitched, and she clenched and unclenched her fists, as though she were considering throwing a punch. But after a moment, she shut her eyes and sighed. “No, Hanna. I didn’t know.”
“I’m really sorry,” Hanna whispered.
Naomi stared at her. “You think sorry cuts it?”
“But I am,” Hanna protested. “It’s not like I meant for any of it to happen. Madison was barely able to stand up when she left the bar. That’s why I drove her home—I was afraid something awful might happen if I didn’t. And you said yourself that the crash was, in a weird way, a good thing—it got her straight.”
Naomi looked at Hanna in horror. “My God, Hanna. I would have preferred the crash had never happened at all.”
Hanna shut her eyes, suddenly realizing how idiotic she sounded. “Of course,” she whispered.
Naomi pressed her fingers to her temples. “I have half a mind to call the cops right when we get home and tell them everything. My cousin used to like to play field hockey on the weekends, did you know that? Now she’ll never be able to again. She’ll probably always walk with a limp. She went to grueling physical therapy for months, which racked up a ton of bills for my aunt and uncle. I should make you pay them. Or maybe your rich father.”
Hanna opened her mouth and shut it again. She had no defense. Naomi was totally right.
“That accident caused a lot of anguish for all of us,” Naomi hissed, her cheeks flushed. “It was torture when we weren’t sure if Madison was going to pull through. And you think you can just say you’re sorry and be done with it?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Hanna hung her head. “You can tell the police about me if you want. And your parents. And Madison. They deserve to know the truth.”
Naomi set her jaw and stared at the horizon. “I just don’t understand how someone could do something like that. And then, after you knew, you pretended you were my friend, like nothing was wrong!”
“I didn’t know Madison was your cousin until I saw the fake ID,” Hanna said. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “When I made the connection, I freaked. I thought you knew about me and Madison from the very beginning—I figured that’s why you were being so nice to me. You knew, and you wanted to get revenge.”
Naomi scoffed. “I was being nice to you because I wanted us to be friends. I was sick of our stupid fights.” She stared at her in disbelief. “Is that why you were on my computer when we got back from the club? To see if I knew for sure?”
Hanna nodded, overwhelmed with guilt. “I was convinced you knew about Madison. I read an e-mail exchange between you and her, and you said you’d narrowed down who the suspect was. I figured you knew it was me.”
“Have you ever thought about just talking things out? Coming clean?” Naomi asked.
“It’s complicated,” Hanna mumbled. It wasn’t like she could tell Naomi about A.
“Did you put those photos on my computer, too?”
Hanna frowned. “What photos?”
Naomi balled up her fists. “A whole folder of new photos was mysteriously added to my desktop. I thought they were a virus, actually, so I didn’t look at them, but when I went to delete them, they were gone. Were you trying to crash my computer?”
Hanna’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Were the photos Naomi was talking about the ones of the girls in Jamaica? Had someone planted them there?
“I’m sorry,” she said one more time, not knowing how to explain.
Naomi pinched the bridge of her nose. She watched the waves for a few moments, then turned back to Hanna sharply. “Just to be clear, I had no idea Madison had someone with her in the car. She was so wasted that night she didn’t remember, either. What she did remember, though, was flashing headlights coming head-on just before the crash. That’s who we were investigating, you idiot. Not you.”
Hanna winced, but then nodded sheepishly. “I remember that car. It was like, one second, there was no one on the road, and the next, there it was, heading right for us.”
“We managed to find a witness,” Naomi said begrudgingly. “A lady lives in the house on the hill where the car crashed. She wasn’t home at the time, but she has a security camera in the driveway, and it caught some of the accident. There was this shadowy image of Madison’s car—I couldn’t tell there were two people in it. There was an image of a second car, too, forcing the BMW off the road. It was like they meant to do it.”
Hanna’s heart started to pound. “Do you have any idea who it was?”
“We have part of a license plate number, but that’s it. The cops asked Madison if she knew anyone who hated her so much they would want to hurt her, but she didn’t know anyone. I guess I should ask you the same thing.”
A shiver danced down Hanna’s spine. If only she knew who wanted to hurt her. But maybe that was how A knew what had happened that night: A had been the driver of the other car, forcing the accident. Of course A had had a front-row seat to what happened next. All A had to do was pull over around the bend, turn off the lights, and watch Hanna freak.
The boat slowed, and the port of Hamilton rose into view. Hanna’s friends, who were all the way across the boat, out of earshot, leaned over in their seats, and then turned back to Hanna. They were probably watching the conversation, trying to figure out what Hanna was saying. Hanna wondered if just by her body language they could deduce that Naomi wasn’t A.
Hanna glanced at Naomi again. There were a lot of things she wanted to say to Naomi. A thank-you was in order—they would have died without the rescue boat. She wanted to try and make it up to her, too, although she had no idea how. But saying either of those things seemed completely inappropriate. It was one thing when what she’d done was a contained secret, something she was tortured by but internalized. It was another when she saw how many lives it touched, altered. It added a whole new layer of guilt and shame.
“I’m really sorry about everything,” she mumbled once more.
“Yeah, well, you should be,” Naomi growled. When she glanced at Hanna, there was disgust in her eyes, but then she shrugged. �
��I’m not going to tell, if that’s what you’re worried about. But you owe me—got it? And let’s just hope they nail whoever that other driver was.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Hanna was surprised by Naomi’s sudden generosity. But Naomi just rolled her eyes and turned away.
A wave splashed up, misting Hanna’s face. She settled back in her seat, feeling a mix of shame and regret. All at once, she knew that the seed of friendship that had started to grow between them was probably lost forever. Too much had been said. Too much was damaged—and it was all Hanna’s fault. They might not taunt each other in the Rosewood halls anymore, but they wouldn’t sit together at Steam, either. It was just another thing A had wrecked.
The boat pulled up to the dock, and everyone lined up to get off. “You know, there’s something else I should probably tell you,” she said gruffly as they stepped on the docks.
“What’s that?” Hanna asked.
Naomi tucked a windswept piece of hair behind her ear. “Ali called me up once, after she came back to Rosewood as Courtney. She told me everything. That she was the real Ali, but she’d been imprisoned in the hospital at the beginning of sixth grade because of this fluke switch, and that it was sort of your fault it happened.”
Hanna’s eyes widened. “Did you tell anyone?”
Naomi shook her head. “I thought she was drunk—the story was so crazy. And she kept saying, ‘I hate them, Naomi. They ruined my life. They ruined yours, too, don’t you think? Don’t they owe you something?’”
“Do you think that?” Hanna asked.
Naomi shrugged. “It was cool to be Ali’s friend, and I was really pissed when she dropped Riley and me for you guys. But as time went on, I started to think it was a good thing. Ali was really bossy. And she kept a lot of secrets.”
“Like what?”
Naomi gave Hanna a crazy look. “Maybe that she had a twin sister no one knew about?” Then she cleared her throat. “She said something else on the phone to me last year, though. She said, ‘I’m going to get those bitches, Naomi. We’re going to make them pay for what they did.’”