Around the same time that morning, Spencer climbed into Melissa's idling SUV and waited as her sister ran inside to get her sunglasses. In a rare show of helpfulness, Melissa had offered to drive Spencer to school. Spencer dropped her Kate Spade tote on the backseat. The car smelled overpoweringly of cinnamon gum, and the radio blared. "After a message from our sponsors, we'll discuss the photographs that shed new light on the Rosewood Serial Killer case," a reporter announced.
The broadcast cut to a commercial for Treasures in the Attic, a local antique shop, and Spencer snapped the radio off. She'd received a text from Aria this morning about the photos she'd found in the woods, but Spencer hadn't seen them yet. All she knew was that the photographer might be a girl. Spencer had been doing her best to ignore the inconsistencies in the case against Billy, but now…
An icy hand curled over Spencer's hand and she jumped. "Earth to Spencer," Melissa chirped, slamming the door. "Are you in there?"
"Sorry," Spencer said as Melissa pulled out of the driveway and almost backed into the Jenna shrine. It had grown to three times its original size. The Ali shrine at the base of the DiLaurentises' old curb was going strong, too, full of candles, flowers, stuffed, and old photos of Ali as a kid.
If only people really knew, Spencer thought. The girl in those old photos was still alive. It was so hard to believe.
Melissa was eyeing the Ali shrine, too. "Has Courtney seen that?" she asked.
Spencer's stomach swooped. It was strange to hear the name Courtney now that she knew the truth. "I don't know."
At the end of the street, Mrs. Sullivan, who lived on the corner, was out walking her two Shetland sheepdogs. Melissa turned out of their neighborhood, and they drove in silence for a few minutes, sweeping past Johnson Farm, which sold organic butter and veggies, and then the big township park. A couple of people were jogging, their heads down and braced against the wind.
Melissa pushed her aviators to the top of her head and glanced at Spencer out of the corner of her eye. "Have you hung out with Courtney at all?"
"Uh-huh," Spencer answered, pulling the sleeves of her coat over her bare hands.
Melissa tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
They paused at a stop sign. A squirrel darted across the road, its bushy tail high in the air. "Why wouldn't it be?" Spencer asked.
Melissa tapped her left foot on the floor. "You don't know much about her. When Jason told me about her, he said she was really unstable."
Then she hit the gas again, jolting across the intersection. Spencer wished she could tell Melissa exactly what she didn't know—that the unstable sister was dead. "You've never even spoken to her," she said instead.
Melissa's voice hardened. "I just think you should be careful with her. Don't jump into a friendship too fast."
They pulled up the drive of Rosewood Day and came to a stop behind a bunch of yellow school buses. Kids trudged down the bus steps and ran to the double doors, eager to escape the biting cold. Spencer pointed at her sister accusingly. "You're just saying that because you hated Ali and you don't like Courtney by extension."
Melissa rolled her eyes. "Don't be a drama queen. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"Sure you don't," Spencer growled. "Because you've certainly never tried to hurt me." She jerked the door open, climbed out, and then slammed it behind her.
The halls smelled like freshly baked pastries from Steam. As Spencer approached her locker, Ali emerged from the bathroom. Her blue eyes twinkled, perfectly matching her school blazer. "Hey!" she cried, wrapping an arm around Spencer's shoulders. "Just the person I wanted to see. We're going to get ready for the dance tomorrow together, right?"
"Yeah," Spencer said, spinning the combination dial of her locker too fast and missing one of the numbers. Frustrated, she kicked the metal door.
Ali frowned. "Is something wrong?"
Spencer rolled her head around her neck, trying to settle down. "Melissa is driving me crazy."
Ali put her hands on her hips. A couple of guys on the soccer team passed, giving her appreciative whistles. "Did you have another fight about your mom?"
"No…" Spencer finally got her locker open. She shrugged out of her coat and jammed it on the hook. "Actually, it was about you."
"Me?" Ali pressed her palm to her chest.
"Yeah." Spencer barked out a laugh. "I told her we were hanging out. She said I should stay away from you."
Ali picked at an invisible imperfection on her blazer. "Well, maybe she's looking out for you."
Spencer sniffed. "You know Melissa. She definitely wasn't looking out for me."
A muscle in Ali's neck tensed. "So why did she say it?"
Spencer chewed on her bottom lip. Melissa and Ali had never gotten along. Ali was the only one who hadn't sucked up to Melissa back then. Right before she'd disappeared, Ali had even teased Melissa that Ian might get a new girlfriend while Melissa was on vacation in Prague. And Melissa had definitely suspected that Ali was fooling around with Ian. A couple of months ago, Spencer and Melissa were in the family's hot tub in the backyard, and Melissa said she'd known that Ian had cheated on her in high school. "Ian is going to regret it for the rest of his life," she said. Spencer asked what she was going to do to the girl he'd cheated with, and Melissa smiled deviously. "Who says I haven't done something to her already?"
A locker slammed close by. Someone's cell phone tinkled. The between-classes music halted, a clear indication that they had to get to homeroom. Spencer glanced up at Ali, who was staring at her, probably wondering what she was thinking. "Do you think there's any way Melissa could know you aren't Courtney?" she asked.
Ali backed up. Her forehead wrinkled. "No. No way."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive." Ali brushed her long blond hair over her shoulder. A freshman boy nearby double-talked and dropped his biology textbook on the marble floor. "Honestly, Spence? Melissa's probably just jealous. You both have another sister now…and I like you better."
A warm, comforting feeling seeped into Spencer's bones as Ali said her good-byes and headed down the art wing. Spencer cut through the lobby toward homeroom, but when she passed Steam, a rack of today's Philadelphia Sentinel made her stop short. "Oh my God," she whispered.
The Polaroid Aria had found last night was splashed on the front page, the blurry, spooky eyes gazing straight at Melissa. Spencer recognized the face immediately.
Melissa.