More people streamed through the Radley’s doors, showing their invitations to a girl wearing a headset and holding a clipboard. Emily called Aria’s phone, but she didn’t pick up. She sighed. Maybe Aria had gone in without her.
The inside of the hotel was warm and smelled like peppermint. Emily slithered out of her coat and handed it to the girl at the coat-check window, smoothing down her strapless, dark red dress. After Isaac invited her to this, she’d rushed out to the mall, tried on this dress, and imagined Isaac swooning when he saw her in it. For once in her life, she’d bought it without even looking at the price tag. And for what? At 2 A.M. last night, Emily had rolled over in bed and looked at the little window of her phone, hoping Isaac had sent her an apology text. But there had been nothing.
She craned her neck, looking for him now. He was definitely here somewhere—and so were Mr. and Mrs. Colbert.
Her skin began to prickle. Maybe she shouldn’t be here. It was one thing to accompany Aria—at least she’d have a buffer—but Emily didn’t think she could deal with this place alone. She turned back toward the entrance, but tons of people had arrived at once, jamming the doors. She waited for the crowd to clear, praying she wouldn’t see any of the Colberts. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the hatred in their eyes.
On the wall next to her was a large bronze plaque describing the Radley’s history. G. C. Radley Retreat for Childhood Wellness began in 1897 as an orphanage, but eventually changed into a safe haven for troubled children. This plaque commemorates those children who have benefited from the Radley’s unique facility and environment, and the doctors and staff who have dedicated years of their lives to the cause.
Underneath were the names of various headmasters and deans of the facility. Emily scanned them, but they meant nothing to her.
“I heard some of the kids that stayed here were real lunatics.”
Emily looked over and gasped. Maya was standing right next to her, dressed in a hazelnut-colored tiered gown. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and she wore sparkly gold eye shadow. There was a teasing little smile on her face, not unlike the look Ali used to give Emily when she wanted to make Emily uncomfortable.
“H-hi,” Emily stammered. She thought about Maya standing in her bedroom window last night just as Emily pulled into the cul-de-sac, as if she’d anticipated Emily’s arrival. Was that just a coincidence? And the other day at school, she’d seen Maya and Jenna talking. They lived right next to each other—had they struck up a friendship?
“See that balcony?” Maya pointed to the hotel mezzanine. People were leaning over the elaborate wrought-iron railing, peering down to the crowd below. “I heard some kids killed themselves by jumping off that. They splattered right where the bar is. And I heard a patient murdered a nurse.”
Maya touched Emily’s hand. Her fingers were stiff and deathly cold. And when she brought her face close to Emily’s, her breath smelled hauntingly like banana gum. “So where’s your boyfriend?” Maya singsonged. “Or did you two have a fight?”
Emily pulled her hand away, her heart slamming against her ribs. Did Maya somehow know…or had she just guessed?
“I-I have to go,” she said. She faced the entrance again, but the crush of people was still there. She wheeled around, heading back through the ballroom. There was a staircase ahead of her, leading to the upper level. Gathering the hem of her dress, she ran for it, not even caring where it led.
At the top of the steps was a long dark hallway with several doors on either side. Emily tried a few, thinking they might be bathrooms, but the cold, slippery knobs wouldn’t turn. Only one door at the end of the hall swung open. She fell inside, grateful for some quiet and privacy.
Emily’s nose twitched. The room smelled like dust and mildew. Bulky shapes of what looked like a desk and a couch were in front of her. She fumbled for a light switch on the wall, snapping on an overhead lamp. The desk was covered in papers and books. An old scuffed leather love seat was heaped with books, too. There were bookcases along the back wall, piled with manila folders. Loose papers were scattered over the floor, along with an upended cup of pencils. It almost looked like the room had been deliberately trashed. Emily remembered Mr. Colbert mentioning that parts of the hotel hadn’t been renovated in time for the party. Maybe this was an office from when this place used to be a school…or, as Maya put it, a house for lunatics.
A floorboard creaked. Emily turned toward the door and stared. Nothing. A shadow passed across the wall. Emily looked up at the cracked ceiling. A spider sat in the center of a large, sinuous web. There was a black mass of something caught in the silk, maybe a fly.
It was too spooky in here. Emily turned to go, carefully maneuvering around the stacks of books and journals spread out across the floor. Then something caught her eye. There was a book splayed open at her feet, a list of names written in dark blue ink. It seemed like a log. The page was divided into columns labeled Name, Date, In, Out. One of the names was…
Emily knelt down, thinking—hoping—she’d imagined it. Her vision blurred. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
One of the names in the book was Jason DiLaurentis.
His name appeared on the page three times, first on March 6, then on March 13, then on March 20. Seven days apart. Emily flipped a page. There was Jason’s name again, on March 27, then April 3, then April 10. He’d logged into the book in the morning, and logged out in the evening. She turned the pages faster and faster. Jason’s name kept cropping up. He’d logged in on April 24, Emily’s birthday. The date was from eight years ago. Emily counted back—she’d been nine. It had been a Saturday. That year, her parents had taken Emily and her swim team friends out for a birthday dinner at All That Jazz!, her old favorite restaurant at the King James Mall. She’d been in third grade. Ali had started at Rosewood Day at the beginning of that year, her family moving here from Connecticut.