Chapter Text
Spencer Hastings’ Barn
One year before Alison disappeared
Ginny Miller always knew she was the youngest in the room.
Not by much—maybe a year, sometimes two—but enough that she listened more than she spoke. Enough that the older girls forgot she was there until she laughed at the right time or asked a question that surprised them.
Spencer Hastings’ barn smelled like fresh wood and dust and money. The kind of place you could turn into anything you wanted if you had the grades, the parents, and the future already planned out.
Ginny sat cross-legged on a sofa that didn’t belong in a barn at all, her knees tucked in, a red plastic cup warming her palm. Around her, the girls sprawled comfortably, as if the space already belonged to them.
Spencer stood near the staircase, gesturing with her hands the way she always did when she talked about plans.
“I’m turning it into a loft,” she said. “Once I get my grades finalized. My parents already said yes—conditionally.”
Ginny’s eyes widened. “A loft? Like… you get to live up here?”
Spencer smiled, sharp and proud. “Eventually. I just have to earn it.”
Ginny laughed softly. “I wish I had a barn.”
Aria tilted her head, studying Ginny through her dark lashes. “Isn’t your family super rich?”
Before Ginny could answer, Hanna leaned back against the couch, smug. “Her mom’s a lawyer, right? And your dad’s a banker?”
Ginny hesitated. Just a beat.
“My stepdad,” she corrected lightly. “He’s… good with money.”
Spencer nodded, already accepting it as fact. “Of course.”
That was how it worked with them. Questions asked, answers taken, no digging unless Alison wanted there to be.
And Alison always wanted something.
She sat apart from them now, blonde hair falling perfectly over her shoulders, watching. Alison DiLaurentis didn’t need to speak to control a room. She just waited until everyone looked her way.
The music thumped softly from a speaker tucked in the corner. Beyoncé’s voice filled the barn, confident and teasing. Emily smiled, leaning into the sound.
“I love her new video,” Emily said.
Alison smirked. “Maybe a little too much, Em.”
Emily flushed. Ginny noticed. Alison noticed everything.
Ali lifted the bottle and poured into a glass, then handed it to Aria. “Your turn.”
Aria hesitated. “Ali—”
“Friends share secrets,” Alison said lightly. “That’s what keeps us close. Drink up.”
Spencer frowned. “Careful, Aria. Take too much and you’ll tell us all your secrets.”
Alison’s smile widened. “That’s the point.”
Ginny watched the liquid swirl, dark and unfamiliar. She didn’t drink much—didn’t like the way it made her feel floaty and loose. But tonight, no one was watching her cup. No one was watching her.
She took a small sip anyway.
The storm rolled in quietly. Too quietly.
At first it was just the wind brushing the barn walls. Then the music cut out. The lights flickered once—twice—and died.
Emily gasped. “What happened?”
Spencer frowned. “It must be the storm.”
A sharp squeak cut through the dark.
Aria’s voice wavered. “Something’s out there.”
The barn door creaked open.
“H—guys,” Hanna whispered.
They stood slowly, hearts pounding, inching toward the doorway. Ginny stayed behind them, her fingers digging into the couch cushion. She didn’t like surprises. She never had.
Glass shattered.
They screamed.
Then—
“Gotcha.”
Alison stepped into the light from the open door, laughing.
They shrieked again, this time in relief.
“That’s not funny, Alison!” Spencer snapped.
“I thought it was hilarious,” Ali said, pleased with herself.
They settled back down, laughter buzzing through the barn, the fear dissolving like it had never been there at all.
Later—much later—Ginny’s eyes fluttered open.
The barn was quiet. Too quiet.
She shifted, her head pounding slightly, the edges of the room soft and blurry. Emily and Hanna were still asleep nearby, breathing evenly.
But Spencer and Alison were gone.
Before she could sit up fully, a shadow moved.
Alison crouched beside her.
Ginny startled. “Ali—?”
Alison pressed a finger to her lips.
Up close, her smile wasn’t playful. It was sharp. Serious.
“If anyone ever asks you what you saw tonight,” Alison whispered, her voice low and steady, “you didn’t see me.”
Ginny’s heart raced.
“You didn’t know. You didn’t hear. You saw what I wanted you to see.”
Ginny tried to speak. Tried to ask what she meant.
But the world tilted.
Darkness pulled her under.
⸻
Aria woke first.
“Em?” she whispered.
Hanna groaned. “Where’s Ali?”
Spencer burst through the door, breathless, pale.
“She’s gone.”
Aria sat up. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
Spencer swallowed hard. “I looked everywhere. I think—I think I heard her scream.”
Ginny stayed quiet.
She didn’t know why.
She just knew one thing for certain.
She had been awake.
And she had been told what to remember.