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crammed into the car with her, and the radio was turned up loud. To most passersby, they probably looked like a bunch of girls on a summer road trip. Not accused murderers on their way to talk to their own almost-murderer, in prison. Her cell phone pinged, and as she slowed to a stoplight she glanced at the screen. What time should I come over? her boyfriend, Mike, had texted.
    Hanna ran her tongue over her teeth. Thank God she hadn’t lost Mike after the paparazzi released those photos of her canoodling with Jared Diaz, her costar in Burn It Down , a movie chronicling her and her friends’ struggles with Ali . Now she and Mike were closer than ever. Since she was let out on bail he’d come over every day, bringing takeout and girly movies that he actually watched with her and tried his hardest not to make fun of.
    She looked around, taking in the wide fields and red barns. For a brief second, she considered telling Mike what they were up to. Bad idea, though: Mike fancied himself as Hanna’s knight in shining armor. He’d probably try and rescue them.
    Didn’t sleep well last night, thinking of taking a nap , Hanna typed back quickly. Maybe this afternoon?
    There was a pause before Mike texted back, Sure. When another text pinged in, Hanna figured it was from Mike again, not buying it. But then she saw Hailey Blake’s name.
    Hanna raised her eyebrows. Hailey was a tempestuous, badass, mega–movie star who’d become Hanna’s friend during her brief stint in Burn It Down . Hanna had thought Hailey would drop her after Hanna was unceremoniously let go from her role as herself—and, oh yeah, after she was arrested for murder—but Hailey had been texting her even more lately. This one said: I just saw another report about you on CNN. Your hair looked REALLY GOOD.
    Hanna dropped her phone to her lap. Leave it to Hailey to be unfazed by Hanna’s predicament. It was nice that someone in Hollywood still thought she was the bomb. Hank Ross, Burn It Down ’s director, who’d said Hanna was “a natural” and “had a bright future,” wouldn’t even return her calls. Neither would Marcella, Hanna’s brand-new agent.
    Whenever Hanna thought about her almost-shot at stardom, she burst into tears and couldn’t breathe. It hurt more than when she had realized Mona, her old bestie, was the first A and had tried to kill her. It hurt more than when she had found out Ali had a twin and had never told her. It even hurt more than when her father, whom she’d once loved more than anyone in the world, had dropped Hanna cold, saying she “wasn’t good for his political campaign.” Acting had been all hers . . . and she was actually good at it. She’d thought it could be her future.
    But now . . . well. Her only chance at stardom was on America’s Most Wanted.
    â€œGreen light,” Emily croaked impatiently from the back.
    Hanna pressed the gas, glancing at Emily in the rearview mirror. Her old friend looked thinner, and her eyes bugged out from her head. Hanna was still really worried about Emily—because she’d almost jumped off a bridge in Rosewood, and then because she’d had that freak-out at the pool house where they’d tracked Ali, and didn’t tell them. And lately, Em had seemed sort of . . . twitchy . Like an invisible person was giving her electric shocks. She was also incredibly wired this morning, like she’d drunk a zillion Red Bulls. Hanna wondered if she’d slept last night.
    Then again, the rest of them didn’t look so hot, either—Hanna included. Spencer sucked on the straw of her water bottle so forcefully that lines formed around her mouth. Aria wouldn’t stop clanging her bracelets together. Hanna had probably redone her lipstick six times, something she always did when she was upset. Were any of them ready to talk to Nick?
    Hanna turned onto a road marked ALLERTON PRISON, NEXT