Pretty Little Liars 6 Killer - Comments on

spied an open window next to the door. Slowly, she inched her fingers toward the wi ndowsill, pushing
the
window open wider. Taking a deep breath, she whirled around and squeezed through. Her back hit
something
soft. A mattress. She pulled the window shut. The dog barked and scratched at Jason’s door. Aria’s
chest heaved in and out as she listened to her heart pound. Then she looked around. The room was dark
and empty. There was a coatrack near the door, but the hooks were bare.
Aria reached into her pocket for her phone and dialed Jason’s number. It went immediately to voice
mail.
Aria hung up, laid the phone on the bed, and stood. The dog was still barking; she didn’t dare try to
leave.
The apartment was basically a big studio divided into a bedroom, a dining area, and a small TV nook.
There
was a bathroom at the far end of the room, and a bunch of bookshelves off to the right. She walked
around
the room, inspecting the Hemingway, Burroughs, and Bukowski books on Jason’s shelf. He had a little
print
of a drawing by Egon Schiele, one of Aria’s favorite artists. She crouched down and ran her finger along
the
spines of his DVDs, noting the many foreign films. There were pictures on his little kitchen island, many
of
which looked like they’d been taken at Yale. Some were of a petite, smiling girl with dark hair and
darkframed
glasses. In one of the photos, they both wore matching Yale T-shirts. In another, they were at what
looked like a football game, holding red cups of beer. In another, she was kissing him on the cheek, her
nose
squished into his face.
Bile rose to Aria’s throat. Maybe this was the secret A had told her about. But why had Jason asked her
to
come over? To make it clear that he only liked Aria as a friend? She shut her eyes, limp with
disappointment.