❝ we all eat lies, when our hearts are hungry ❞
Halle Brewster made a promise she would never tell the secrets of the summer Alison DiLaurentis went missing. Only now, someone else was doing the telling - something Alison never got the chance to do...
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Halle left early the next morning, grabbing a lift with Spencer. They had planned to grab breakfast out that morning at a place in the centre of town with Emily. Only Spencer had other plans when she got there — one that included making a suspicious phonecall in a Southern accent.
"Hi! I'm planning a surprise visit for my husband and he cannot stop talking about the room he had on his last visit. Can you pull up that reservation?" Spencer said politely to the woman on the other end. "His name is Ian Thomas."
In a whisper, Emily leaned in and asked, "why are you doing this?"
"Because she thinks Alison was with Ian the weekend before she disappeared," Halle answered. She took a large bite out of her warm croissant and mumbled out, "I heard all about it in the car on the way here."
Spencer covered the microphone on her cell. "Do you remember how Alison was acting when she got home from visiting her grandmother? All giggles and tan?" she recalled.
"Yeah?" Emily was confused to what the point was.
"Ali hated old people," Spencer countered. "And Ali's grandmother lives in Georgia. Hilton Head is in South Carolina, she was lying to us."
"So what? Alison lied more than she breathed," Emily stated.
Halle pointed at her. "Fact."
"You think that was enough to make Ian wanna permanently shut her up?" Emily asked Spencer.
"Wow, I thought you'd be happy to hear it was anybody but Toby," commented Spencer.
"It wasn't Toby," Halle spoke flatly.
"All Toby wanted was for me to believe him and I didn't," Emily said, ashamed. "Halle did."
"Because it wasn't Toby," repeated Halle, with a shrug as she picked up her coffee cup to take a sip.
"Toby lied about a lot of things, too," Spencer reminded both the girls.
"If lying was a crime, we would all be in jail," retorted Emily. Her brows rose as she made eye-contact with the FBI agent that had been on Alison's murder case. Emily put on an act, smiling at the woman. "Agent Cooper," she greeted. "Good morning."
Agent Cooper returned the smile and came to stand by their table, the one just outside the little patisserie shop. "Hi. Beautiful day, huh?" she said, a coffee in hand.
"Ain't no place like Rosewood," Halle claimed, her words sarcastic and her smile tight.
"I'm sorry to hear about what happened last week," the agent said to Halle. "We offered to look into who hacked your school's system, but I was told it wasn't even a police case?" she spoke with curiosity, going high at the end as though it was a question.
