Perfect: A Pretty Little Liars Novel

a mouth that looked like it was smiling even when she wasn’t. When Aria closed her eyes and pictured a
mom, Mrs. Ackard was pretty much what she imagined. Sean had told her that before she married his
dad she’d worked as a magazine editor in Philadelphia, but now she was a fulltime housewife, keeping
the Ackards’ monstrous house looking photo-shoot ready at all times. The apples in the wooden bowl on
the island were unbruised, the magazines in the living room rack all faced the same direction, and the
tassels on the giant Oriental rug were even, as if they’d just been combed.
“I’m making mushroom ravioli,” Mrs. Ackard said, inviting Aria to come over and smell a pot of sauce.
“Sean said you’re a vegetarian.”
“I am,” Aria answered softly. “But you didn’t have to do that for me.”
“It’s no trouble,” Mrs. Ackard said warmly. There were also scalloped potatoes, a tomato salad, and a
loaf of the hearty, gourmet seven-grain bread from Fresh Fields that Ella always scoffed at, saying
anyone who paid $10.99 for some flour and water ought to have his head examined.
Mrs. Ackard pulled the wooden spoon out of the pot and rested it on the counter. “You were good
friends with Alison DiLaurentis, weren’t you? I saw that video of you girls on the news.”
Aria ducked her head. “That’s right.” A lump grew in her throat. Seeing Ali so alive in that video had
brought Aria’s grief to the surface all over again.
To Aria’s surprise, Mrs. Ackard wrapped her arm around her shoulder and gave her a little squeeze.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
Tears prickled at Aria’s eyes. It felt good to be nestled in a mom’s arms, even if she wasn’t her mom.
Sean sat next to Aria at dinner, and everything was the antithesis of how it went at Aria’s house. The
Ackards put their napkins on their laps, there was no television news droning in the background, and
Mr.
Ackard, who was rangy and balding but had a charismatic smile, didn’t read the newspaper at the table.
The younger Ackard twins, Colin and Aidan, kept their elbows off the table and didn’t poke each other
with their forks—Aria could only imagine what atrocities Mike would commit if he had a twin.
“Thank you,” Aria said as Mrs. Ackard poured more milk in her glass, even though Byron and Ella had