Whispers in Rosewood

𝟢𝟢𝟪 | 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦

The atmosphere in Spencer's house carried a mix of nostalgia and tension as we prepared for Alison's memorial. Aria and Spencer struggled with a large box, attempting to navigate it to the living room, while Hanna, Emily, and I occupied the couches, immersed in the somber task of planning the tribute.

Aria: I was afraid she wouldn't get it done in time for the memorial.

Hailee: This was someone from your mom's gallery?

Aria: Right.

Emily: Where is your mom?

She asked with genuine curiosity.

Aria: There's an apartment above the gallery. So she's staying there. For now.

Hanna: Kind of weird, isn't it? Your mom moving out.

Aria: Yeah, like my dad should have left. That's what you'd expect.

Her words carried the weight of her frustration, a subtle glimpse into the complexities of her family dynamics. Spencer attempted to diffuse the tension.

Spencer: Aria.

Aria: Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. The whole thing just sucks.

Hanna: I know.

Her empathetic response resonated, having faced similar family challenges.

Emily: Did anyone call Shelly Leonard?

Attempting to shift the focus, Emily changed the subject.

Spencer: Done. I told her that if she plays anything depressing, I will kick in her cello.

Hailee: Oh, what about the program?

Spencer: Almost done. But we should finish it before Ali's brother gets here.

The mention of Jason's impending arrival elicited a concerned look from Hanna. I, too, felt a twinge of unease, knowing I had a revelation to share before he arrived.

Hailee: When is that?

Wanting to gather more information about the timeline.

Spencer: Tonight. He wants to see us in the morning.

Hanna: God, you know what? I barely remember Jason.

Aria: We didn't know him. He was just Ali's older brother down the hall.

The memories of him lingered in the recesses of my mind.

Spencer: Behind the closed door.

Emily: With his hardcore-punk music vibrating the floorboards.

Their laughter echoed, but I remained silent, wrestling with my own thoughts.

Aria: How did he get into an Ivy League school?

Spencer: I don't know. It must've been affirmative action for goths and emos.

As we opened the big box, revealing the art piece, admiration washed over us.

Hanna: Wow.

Aria: It's beautiful.

Spencer: Pedestal's already out there, next to the bench. This goes up Friday morning.

Emily: Do you think Jason will like it?

Hailee: Of course he'll like it.

Confident that the artwork would touch him, my mind lingered on the impending revelation I had to make. Aria pondered the longevity of Alison's memory.

Aria: You know, years from now, people are gonna see this memorial... and that's all they'll ever know about Ali. She'll be the girl that they dedicated the bench to. And we'll all be gone, but Ali will still be remembered.