Suddenly, Aria looked down…and stopped short. “It’s not as easy as that.” They passed a gnarled, knotty tree. Even their dog, an Airedale, was well mannered. Ackard had packed everyone’s lunches-including Aria’s. Ackard had made them Belgian waffles this morning, and Mrs. “You don’t know.” Sean’s family was perfect. “I know, I know.” Aria poked her tongue into the spot at the back of her mouth where her lone wisdom tooth had been. I feel so…abandoned.” Sean stroked her arm.

It’s just…my mom hasn’t even called me since I left a message telling her I was staying with you. She wanted to tell him that the Rosewood Historic Society had considered her house for the tour, too-some Frank Lloyd Wright protégé had designed it.

Rosewood Historic House tours come through it almost every day.” Aria bristled. “My stepmom works hard to keep the house clean. “My mom hasn’t done that in about a billion years.” When she looked over, Sean wasn’t laughing along. She made me go back upstairs and do it.” She snorted. “Your stepmom got all anal on me this morning, though,” Aria said, skirting around a Japanese cherry blossom tree. Aria had thrashed around for hours, alone, certain she’d look over and see the stalker-or Ali’s killer-at the foot of her bed. But more than that, she’d been too worried about the movement outside her guest bedroom window,Ībout the possible stalker sighting, and about A’s note-saying that Ali’s killer was closer than she thought. The duvet seemed too fluffy, the mattress too quilted, the room too quiet. Her Paris-hotel-like room was beautiful, but Aria had actually found it difficult to sleep. “You sleep okay last night?” “Great.” A white lie. How could Sean not have read that? “When we get back, I’ll find my Poe book so you can.” “Okay,” Sean agreed, then changed the subject. Edgar Allan Poe? The dead guy’s buried in the floor? The narrator can still hear his heart beating?” “Nope.” Aria put her hands on her hips, dumbstruck. “They remind me of ‘The Tell-Tale Heart.’” “The what?” Aria raised an eyebrow. “I love graves,” Aria said as they passed a big one with an angel statue on the top. Over the hill, Aria knew, were the graves of a dog named Puff, a cat named Rover, and a parakeet named Lily. SARAH WHITTIER, with that Milton quote, DEATH IS THE GOLDEN KEY THAT OPENS THE PALACE OF ETERNITY. Aria read the names and the dates that she had practically memorized a few years back. “Are you sure?” “I used to love coming here.” “Okay.” Sean reluctantly chained his bike to a wrought-iron trash can along with Aria’s and started behind her past the first line of headstones. “Can we go in for a sec?” He looked alarmed. The cemetery’s leafy oaks had provided the perfect shade for lounging and acting morose. Before Aria found her niche with Ali, she’d gone through a goth phase, embracing everything having to do with death, Tim Burton, Halloween, and Nine Inch Nails. Some of the headstones dated back to the 1700s.

Perfect a pretty little liars novel