Pretty Little Liars 6 Killer - Comments on

Melissa to trust a bunch of possibly crooked cops over her sister, all because she didn’t want to accept
that
her beloved might be dead.
“Really, I’m fine,” Melissa urged, as if she could read Spencer’s thoughts. “I just don’t want to be here if
there are going to be search parties and news vans.”
“But the cops aren’t searching here anymore,” Spencer told her. “They just called it off.”
A startled look crossed Melissa’s face. Then she shrugged and turned around without answering.
Spencer
listened to her padding down the stairs.
The front door slammed, and Spencer could hear Mrs. Hastings murmuring quietly and kindly to Melissa
in
the foyer. Her real daughter. Spencer winced, gathered up her books, shrugged into her coat and boots,
and
walked out the back door to Melissa’s barn. As she crossed the cold, vast yard, she noticed something to
the
left and stopped. Someone had sprayed LIAR on the windmill in the same red paint as the graffiti on the
garage. A glob of red dripped from the bottom edge of the L to the dead grass. It looked as if it were
bleeding.
Spencer glanced back at the house, considering, then pulled her books into her chest and pressed on.
Her
parents would see it soon enough. She certainly didn’t want to be the one to break the news.
Melissa had left the barn in a hurry. There was a half-drunk bottle of wine on the counter, and a halffilled
water glass her normally anal sister hadn’t washed out. A lot of her clothes were still in the closet, and
there
was a big book called The Principles of Mergers and Acquisitions flung on the bed, a University of
Pennsylvania
bookmark wedged between the pages.
Spencer hefted her cream-colored Mulberry tote onto the brown leather couch, pulled the CD of her
dad’s