One: The Girl Who Cried “Dead Body”.

Spencer Hastings shivered in the frigid, late-evening air, ducking to avoid a thorny briar branch. "This way," she called over her shoulder, pushing into the woods behind her family's large, converted farmhouse. "This was where we saw him."

Her old best friends Aria Montgomery, Emily Fields, and Hanna Marin followed quickly behind. All of the girls teetered haphazardly in their high heels, holding the hems of their party dresses—it was Saturday night, and before this, they'd been at a Rosewood Day benefit at Spencer's house. Emily was whimpering, her face streaked with tears. Aria's teeth were chattering, the way they always did when she was afraid. Hanna wasn't making any sounds, but her eyes were huge and she was brandishing a large silver candlestick she'd grabbed from the Hastingses' dining room. Officer Darren Wilden, the town's youngest cop, trailed after them, beaming a flashlight at the wrought-iron fence that separated Spencer's yard from the one that had once belonged to Alison DiLaurentis.

"He's in this clearing, right down this trail," Spencer called. It had started to snow, first wispy flurries, but harder now—fat, wet flakes. To Spencer's left was her family's barn, the very last place Spencer and her friends had seen Ali alive three and half years ago. To her right was the half-dug hole where Ali's body had been found in September. Straight ahead was the clearing where she'd just discovered the dead body of Ian Thomas, her sister's old boyfriend, Ali's secret love, and Ali's killer.

Well, maybe Ali's killer.

Spencer had been so relieved when the cops arrested Ian for Ali's murder. It all made sense: the last day of seventh grade, Ali had given him an ultimatum that either he break up with Melissa, Spencer's sister, or Ali was going to tell the world they were together. Fed up with her games, Ian had met up with Ali that night. His fury and frustration had gotten the best of him…and he'd killed her. Spencer had even seen Ali and Ian in the woods the night she died, a traumatic memory she had suppressed for three and a half long years.

But the day before Ian's trial was set to start, Ian had broken his house arrest and sneaked onto Spencer's patio, begging her not to testify against him. Someone else had killed Ali, he insisted, and he was on the verge of uncovering a disturbing, mind-blowing secret that would prove his innocence.

The problem was, Ian never got to tell Spencer what the big secret was—he vanished before the opening statements of his trial last Friday. As the entire Rosewood Police Department sprang into action, combing the county to find out where he might have gone, everything Spencer thought was true was thrown into question. Had Ian done it…or hadn't he? Had Spencer seen him out there with Ali…or had she seen someone else? Then, just minutes ago at the party, someone by the name Ian_T had sent Spencer a text. Meet me in the woods where she died, it said. I have something to show you.

Spencer had run through the woods, anxious to figure it all out. When she came to a clearing, she looked down and screamed. Ian was lying there, bloated and blue, his eyes glassy and lifeless. Aria, Hanna, and Emily had shown up just then, and moments later they'd all received the same exact text message from the new A. He had to go.

They'd run back into Spencer's to find Wilden, but he hadn't been anywhere in the house. When Spencer went out to the circular driveway to check one more time, Wilden was suddenly there, standing near the valet-parked cars. When he saw her, he gave her a startled look, as if she'd caught him doing something illicit. Before Spencer could demand where Wilden had been, the others ran up in hysterics, breathlessly urging him to follow them into the woods. And now, here they were.

Spencer stopped, recognizing a familiar gnarled tree. There was the old stump. There was the tamped-down grass. The air had an eerie static, oxygenless quality. "This is it," she called over her shoulder. She looked down at the ground, bracing herself for what she was about to see.

"Oh my God," Spencer whispered. 

Ian's body was…gone.

She took a dizzy step back, clutching her hand to her head. She blinked hard and looked again. Ian's body had been here a half hour ago, but now the spot was bare except for a fine layer of snow. But…how was that possible?

Emily clapped her hands over her mouth and made a gurgling sound. "Spencer," she whispered urgently.

Aria let out a cross between a moan and a shriek. "Where is he?" she cried, looking around the woods frantically. "He was just here."

Hanna's face was pale. She didn't say a word.

Behind them was an eerie, high-pitched squawking sound. Everyone jumped, and Hanna gripped the candlestick tightly. It was only Wilden's walkie-talkie, which was attached to his belt. He gazed at the girls' expressions, and then at the empty spot on the ground.

"Maybe you have the wrong place," Wilden said.

Spencer shook her head, feeling pressure rising up into her chest. "No. He was here." She staggered crookedly down the shallow slope and knelt on the half-thawed grass. Some of it seemed flattened, as if something weighty had recently been lying there. She reached out her fingers to touch the ground. but then pulled back, afraid. She couldn't bring herself to touch a place where a dead body had just been.

"Maybe Ian was hurt, not dead." Wilden fidgeted with one of the metal snaps on his jacket. "Maybe he ran away after you left."

Spencer widened her eyes, daring to consider the possibility.

Emily shook her head fast. "There was no way he was just hurt."

"He was definitely dead," Hanna agreed shakily. "He was…blue."

"Maybe someone moved the body," Aria piped up. "We've been gone from the woods for over a half hour. That would've given someone time."

"There was someone else out here," Hanna whispered. "They stood over me when I fell."

Spencer whirled around and stared at her. "What?" Sure, the last half hour had been crazed, but Hanna should have said something.

Emily gaped at Hanna too. "Did you see who it was?"

Hanna gulped loudly. "Whoever it was had a hood on. I think it was a guy, but I guess I don't know. Maybe he grabbed Ian's body somewhere else."

"Maybe it was A," Spencer said, her heart thudding in her chest. She reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out her Sidekick, and showed A's menacing text to Wilden. He had to go.

Wilden glanced at Spencer's phone, then handed it back to her. His mouth was taut. "I don't know how many ways I have to say this. Mona is dead. This A is a copycat. Ian escaping is hardly a secret—the whole country knows about it."

Spencer exchanged an uneasy glance with the others. This past fall, Mona Vanderwaal, a classmate and Hanna's best friend, had sent the girls twisted, torturous messages signed A. Mona had ruined their lives in countless ways, and she'd even plotted to kill them, hitting Hanna with her SUV and almost pushing Spencer off the cliff at Floating Man Quarry. After Mona slipped off the cliff herself, they thought they were safe…but last week they began receiving sinister messages from a new A. Originally, they thought the A notes were from Ian, as they'd started getting them only after he'd been released from prison on temporary bail. But Wilden was skeptical. He kept telling them that was impossible—Ian didn't have access to a cell phone, nor could he have freely skulked around while under house arrest, watching the girls' every move.

"A is real," Emily protested, shaking her head desperately. "What if A is Ian's killer? And what if A dragged Ian away?"

"Maybe A is Ali's killer too," Hanna added, still holding the candlestick tightly.

Wilden licked his lips, looking unsettled. Big flakes of snow were landing on the top of his head, but he didn't wipe them away. "Girls, you're getting hysterical. Ian is Ali's killer. You of all people should know that. We arrested him on the evidence you gave us."

"What if Ian was framed?" Spencer pressed. "What if A killed Ali and Ian found out?" And what if that's something the cops were covering up? she almost added. It was a theory Ian had suggested.

Wilden traced his fingers around the Rosewood PD badge embroidered on his coat. "Did Ian feed you that load of crap during his visit to your porch on Thursday, Spencer?"

Spencer's stomach dropped. "How did you know?"

Wilden glared at her. "I just got a phone call from the station. We got a tip. Someone saw you two talking."

"Who?"

"It was anonymous."

Spencer felt dizzy. She looked at her friends—she'd told them and only them that she and Ian had secretly met—but they looked clueless and shocked. There was only one other person who knew she and Ian had met. A.

"Why didn't you come to us as soon as it happened?" Wilden leaned closer to Spencer. His breath smelled like coffee. "We would've dragged Ian back to jail. He never would've escaped."

"A threatened me," Spencer protested. She searched through her phone's inbox and showed Wilden that note from A, too. If poor little Miss Not-So-Perfect suddenly vanished, would anyone even care?

Wilden rocked back and forth on his heels. He stared hard at the ground where Ian had been not an hour ago and sighed. "Look, I'll go back to the house and get a team together. But you can't blame everything on A."

Spencer glanced at the walkie on his hip. "Why don't you radio them from here?" she pressured. "You can have them meet you in the woods and start looking right now."

An uncomfortable look came over Wilden's face, as if he hadn't anticipated this question. "Just let me do my job. We have to follow…procedure."

"Procedure?" Emily echoed.

"Oh my God," Aria breathed. "He doesn't believe us."

"I believe you, I believe you." Wilden ducked around a few low-hanging branches. "But the best thing you girls can do is go home and get some rest. I'll handle this from here."

The wind gusted, fluttering the ends of the gray wool scarf Spencer had looped around her neck before running out here. A silver of moon peeked out from the fog. In seconds, none of them could see Wilden's flashlight anymore. Was it just Spencer's imagination, or had he seemed eager to get away from them? Was he just worried about Ian's body being somewhere in the woods…was it because of something else?

She turned and stared hard at the empty ravine, willing Ian's body to return from wherever it had gone, and the other seemed glued shut. His neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. And he'd still been wearing his platinum Rosewood Day class ring on his right hand, its blue stone glinting in the moonlight.

The other girls were looking at the empty space too. Then, there was a crack, far off in the woods. Hanna grabbed Spencer's arm. Emily let out an eep. They all froze, waiting. Spencer could hear her heart thudding in her ears.

"I want to go home," Emily cried.

Everyone immediately nodded—they'd all been thinking the same thing. Until the Rosewood police started searching, they weren't safe out here alone.

They followed their footsteps back to Spencer's house. Once they were out of the ravine, Spencer spotted the thing golden beam of Wilden's flashlight far ahead, bouncing off the tree trunks. She stopped, her heart jumping to her throat all over again. "Guys," she whispered, pointing.

Wilden's flashlight snapped off fast, as if he sensed they had seen him. His footsteps grew more and more muffled and distant, until the sound vanished altogether. He wasn't heading back toward Spencer's house to get a search team, like he'd said he was going to do. No, he was quickly creeping into the woods…in exactly the opposite direction.