Pretty Little Liars, LIARS UNITED

Chapter One: Ghosts in the Rain

   The rain fell in sheets, washing the streets of Rosewood in an eerie, shimmering gray. Aria Montgomery had never liked storms. They made everything feel fragile, like the world might shatter under the weight of so much water. Tonight, though, the storm felt less like a force of nature and more like a message. A warning.

She was late, again. Spencer would scold her, Emily would laugh it off, and Hanna would make some cutting joke about her lack of punctuality. But tonight was different. Tonight, they were meeting to discuss the text.

Aria's phone buzzed in her pocket as she hurried down the rain-slicked sidewalk. She didn't need to look to know who it was. The familiar, nerve-jangling trill of a message from A was unmistakable.

"Missing me already, Aria? Shame. I thought you were better at keeping secrets. –A"

Her hands trembled as she tucked the phone away without replying. Secrets. Rosewood was drowning in them, a labyrinth of lies and half-truths, and at the center of it all was a name spoken only in whispers: Alison DiLaurentis.

Alison wasn't just a person; she was a phenomenon, a force that lingered in every corner of Rosewood even in her absence. Everyone had felt her wrath at some point, but it was the fear she left behind that defined her. It was fear that made even the mention of her name feel like an invocation, as though speaking it aloud might bring her ghost to life.

When Aria arrived at Spencer's sprawling estate, the others were already gathered in the barn—a relic of Rosewood's past that Spencer had turned into their unofficial meeting place. The room smelled faintly of cedar and old books, a deceptive calm that belied the tension in the air.

Spencer was pacing, her movements sharp and deliberate. Emily sat curled on the couch, her expression a mix of worry and exhaustion, while Hanna leaned against the bar, filing her nails with an intensity that suggested she wanted to be anywhere else.

"You're late," Spencer snapped without looking up.

"Yeah, I got that," Aria replied, shrugging off her damp jacket. She took a seat beside Emily, who offered a weak smile. "So what did I miss?"

Spencer stopped pacing and held up her phone. On the screen was a new text from A.

"Funny how you all think you're safe together. But secrets don't stay buried forever. Especially not hers. –A"

Silence fell over the group, heavy and suffocating. They all knew who A meant.

"She's dead," Emily said finally, her voice shaking. "We all know she's dead."

"Do we?" Spencer shot back, her eyes narrowing. "Because if she is, then who's doing this? Who knows everything about us—about Alison?"

Aria felt a chill creep up her spine. They had asked themselves the same question a hundred times before, but tonight it felt different. The rain outside grew louder, a relentless drumming that matched the pounding of her heart.

Before anyone could respond, the lights flickered, casting the room in brief, jagged shadows. And for a split second, Aria thought she saw her—Alison. Not the flesh-and-blood girl she used to know, but something darker, more spectral, watching them from the edge of the storm.

"Guys," Hanna said, her voice uncharacteristically small. "What if she's not dead?"

The question hung in the air, unspoken fears taking root. Aria wanted to say it was impossible, wanted to cling to the fragile logic that had kept them all sane. But deep down, she knew the truth.

Alison wasn't just a ghost. She was the storm itself, and Rosewood was far from finished with her.