❝ 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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"I'm sorry, I need you."
Those were the words Halle Brewster spoke into the phone. An officer watched her carefully as she begged over the call, eyeing her suspiciously as she did so. The usual tough exterior — the one she had showed earlier — vanished the moment she heard the dial tone connecting, the voice she desperately craved to hear sounding after. Halle started to cry, something she hadn't done in a long time, and begged for his help.
After, Halle was shoved back into the interrogation room. She was with Aria, Hanna and Spencer. Emily was missing from their sides. Hanna looked up when she entered and asked, "Did you reach your parents?"
"Yeah," Halle said, still shaking. She did her best to play off the moment prior and joined the three at the table in there. She joined them in silence, which gave her more time to go over her thoughts. Her mind raced, head pounding. Halle ended up where she was out of foolishness — her parents raised her better than that, but she was scared. Her phonecall was out of desperation, a plea for help.
The door to the room open, and the girls sat up nervously. They hadn't expected to be met with Detective Wilden again. Time away had made him grow more smug — more sly. He was confident as he entered the room, asking, "Did you miss me?"
He got a rise out of making them anxious, watching them tense in their seats. Wilden came closer, put his hands on the table and stared the four down in an attempt to intimidate them. "This doesn't just look bad. It is bad," he declared. "Homicide is a capitol offense in the the state of Pennsylvania, and you girls are going down."
•
12 Hours Earlier
The mailbox was full, stuffed to the brim with letters, and there was no answer when Spencer rang the doorbell. Hanna stood at the front window, peeking inside for any movement. "Dr Sullivan," Hanna called out, "are you home?"
Emily paced the front porch to the psychiatrist's house. She had her phone in her hand, calling the woman's cellphone but only reached voicemail
"Hi, you've reached Anne Sullivan. I've been called out of town on a family emergency. If you need immediate attention, please see your physician for a referral."
"I got the same voicemail," Aria claimed, moving from the frosted-glass door.
"Yeah," Spencer sighed, "she probably sent it to all of her clients. I know Mr Brewster said that Halle's been referred to a temporary psychiatrist."
"Did Halle answer your calls, then?" Emily asked, eyes on Spencer.
"No, I spoke to her dad," Spencer stated. "He was the one who came to the door, said Halle's been hauled up in her room. Sorry, Em," said Spencer, noticing the girl's frown. "We're all worried about her."
