Well, here we are. This has been so much fun, and this story was one of my favorites to write, so I'm glad you guys enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone who joined me on this journey, whether it be through favoriting, following, or reviewing - especially the latter, because you guys have no idea how much it means when you take some time out of your day to let me know that you liked my work. As a person I'm insecure and as a writer I'm even more so, but it's people like you who keep me writing. This story is kind of different for me, because if you'll notice - nobody died! This epilogue is even on the happy side, despite suspicion that I might just kill everyone off (because, hey, it's me, that's entirely possible).

So, if you're reading this, chances are you've read the whole story. If you have a minute, please leave me a review; I'll love you forever if you do. Even if it's months after I published and I've forgotten I even wrote this story, I guarantee you'll make my day.

Now, if you liked this, you might like to hear about something else I'm planning. Early next year I'm going to be publishing a three-part 'Devils' series - descriptions in my profile. It's going to have a similar amount of angst, drama, and surprises, so maybe I'll see some of you guys there?

For now, though, enjoy, review, and have a wonderful holiday season if I don't see you in any of my other stories. :)

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"You're all clear." Wren smiled and flipped the chart closed, satisfied.

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing the almost-healed cut on her arm. The A shape was still clearly visible, but it had faded a lot. In the month since the showdown with Melissa, the cut had become inflamed and then infected, and Spencer had worried that it wouldn't heal. But now Wren was giving her a clean bill of health, and all her injuries had healed.

"Thanks," she said, scooping her bag up off the floor.

"Spencer," he said as she started moving toward the door. She paused and looked at him, and he went on, "I know these past couple of months have been difficult for you, but it's good to see you starting to look like your old self again. Are you feeling better?"

"Mostly." Spencer looked down at the floor, and then back up at Wren. "I'm still having nightmares," she admitted quietly, "but I think it's getting better."

Wren gave her a sympathetic smile, and she was struck by how professional he seemed, dressed in his scrubs and against a backdrop of medical books. She was grateful for all his help, all his concern and support, but she didn't love him anymore. She was sure of that now and the sadness that certainty brought her was secondary to the relief. For a while it had been touch-and-go with Toby, and even with how patient he'd been with her following the incident with Melissa, she'd still felt insecure. There'd been one or two times she'd actually half-convinced herself that he was going to leave her, leading to some hysterical tears and barely coherent conversations. But he was still here, and she was still his.

"If there's anything you need," Wren said gently, "my door's always open."

"Thank you," she said, putting as much feeling into those two words as she could. She didn't normally do big emotional speeches or heartfelt thanks, but she needed him to know how glad she was that he was on her side.

He did know, and he just nodded, his smile never faltering. Spencer said her farewells and then made her way into the hall, where Toby was waiting. He looked up as she approached, a question in his eyes.

"It's all fine," Spencer told him, and he stood up to envelope her in a hug. "Wren says that it should be fully healed in a couple of days."

"That's great," Toby said, slinging his arm around her shoulders as they started down the hall.

While they walked he talked about a new job he got in Bucks County and she told him about a major project she was working on, and it was just like it used to be. He made a point not to look at the A on her arm, and they steered clear of any deep topics. There were certain unspoken rules between them, things they knew not to talk about, and it took some of the anxiety out of conversation; Spencer's parents still insisted on talking to her about things she would rather not discuss, and although she appreciated their concern it put her on edge. But with Toby, things were comfortable. She couldn't quite let herself feel safe, but when she was with him she felt as close as she was going to get.

They fell silent as they reached the car, and neither of them spoke until they were almost at their destination. Finally Toby glanced over at her, slowing the car down slightly, and asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Spencer nodded, her mouth forming a thin line. She wasn't sure, but she'd been putting it off for so long that she couldn't ignore it anymore.

"I can come in with you," he offered as they pulled into the parking lot.

"I'll be okay," she said, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "I'll be back soon."

"Take your time."

The walk to the building seemed to take forever. She walked in a four-beat rhythm; each time her foot hit the pavement her mind chanted Stop – turn - back – no – but she made herself keep going. It wasn't until she'd signed in and was being led to the visitors area that the reality set in. She hadn't seen her sister since That Night. After leaving, Spencer had called 911, who'd come and taken Melissa away – after ascertaining that she had, in fact, been bluffing. There was no bomb at the school, and Spencer had felt sick with the thought that Melissa had tried to play her like that - and even more so that it had almost worked. Melissa had been in hospital for almost a week before being transferred to the county jail, and during that time neither Spencer nor her parents had gone to see her.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she was still caught off-guard when she saw Melissa. She was sitting at a table by herself, the orange jumpsuit making her look more washed out. Her lank hair fell around her shoulders, and without her usual layer of makeup she looked pale and almost unhealthy.

"Hi." Spencer hesitated before sitting down across from her. Then she rested her hands on the table, absently drumming her fingernails along the cold surface while she tried to think of what to say next.

Melissa clasped her hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on Spencer. "I'm surprised you came."

"So am I," Spencer said, and the two shared a nervous laugh that got cut off too quickly. It seemed like such an inappropriate sound, given the circumstances. Once it died away, Spencer asked softly, "How have you been?"

Melissa shrugged. "It's not too bad here."

"That's good. I heard the food is –"

"Drop the act," Melissa interrupted, causing Spencer to glance sharply up at her.

"Wh-what?"

"You're not here to talk about the food," Melissa said, sounding weary rather than angry. "So why are you here, Spencer?"

The question had an obvious answer, but one Spencer couldn't bring herself to say: You're my sister. We're family. Instead she said, "I needed to talk to you. How we left things -"

"You mean when you left me with a knife in the gut and called the police on me?" Melissa asked, arching an eyebrow.

Spencer blinked. "You tried to get me to kill someone," she reminded her tersely.

"And you wouldn't do it," Melissa said, as if she was still trying to figure out why that was the case.

"No." Spencer stopped drumming on the table, meeting Melissa's eyes. "I used to think we were wired the same, but I think we're more different than we realized."

In the past month Spencer had driven herself crazy trying to analyze everything that had happened. She'd thought about whether her path and Melissa's had ever been the same, if she could have done something to stop Melissa going down this one. And if maybe she would ever end up on the one Melissa took. She'd gone through a hundred scenarios in her head, lived out a hundred different endings, and still she didn't know whether this one was preventable or inevitable. And she knew, although the stubborn part of her refused to believe it, that there was no way she'd ever be able to know for sure.

"We're more similar than you think, Spence."

The words sent a chill down Spencer's spine. To think that she was anything like Melissa… she wasn't, was she? She didn't know how her sister had ended up so twisted, and at the moment she wasn't sure she wanted to know. This visit wasn't going to yield anything. But she couldn't just give up or walk away. She was still connected to Melissa, as much as she hated it, and she needed to see this through. She was a Hastings, after all.

"We're not the same," Spencer said firmly. "I would never do what you did."

"But you could," Melissa said smoothly. "You could do what I did, and knowing you, you'd do it better."

"That's the difference between us." Spencer stood up, folding her arms, suddenly needing to be far away from here. "I know the difference between being capable of something and actually doing it."

Without waiting for a response she strode toward the door.

"Spence."
She turned.

"Will you… will you come and see me again?"

She hesitated.

"Ever?"

She took a deep breath, made a deep decision, and then nodded. "I'll be here this time next week."

As she left, she heard her sister say, "Maybe I was wrong about you."

Over her shoulder, Spencer said, "I know I was wrong about you."

The intense emotions that this visit stirred up took almost a week to fade. Melissa had given her a glimmer of hope, showing something that could be seen as regret. Had she really admitted that Spencer may not be as horrible as she'd assumed? As tangled as their relationship was, as strained and complicated and downright crazy as it was, she knew she wasn't going to give up on it. She and her sister had never been, and would never be, friends, but they didn't have to be such bitter enemies.

Several days after her visit to Melissa, Spencer was sitting in the cafeteria, absently sipping on a coffee while she typed up notes for a History essay on her laptop. She was just starting a paragraph about the causes of the Cold War when a shadow fell across her. Closing the laptop, she looked up.

"Is this seat taken?" Mona asked tentatively, gesturing to chair beside Spencer.

"No," Spencer said quickly, shoving her bag off it to make room for Mona. "Go ahead."

The two girls hadn't really talked since That Night. Mona had kept to herself, and had skipped so much school that Spencer had barely seen her anyway. Spencer had been tempted to talk to her, but what was she supposed to say? Sorry my sister tried to convince me to kill you? So Mona kept her distance, and Spencer held her silence.

Mona sat down, giving Spencer a reserved smile. "What were you working on?"

"The history essay."

"It's not due for another two weeks," Mona pointed out. "Getting in early, don't you think?"

"I just want to make sure I keep my position at the top of the class," Spencer said, with a teasing smile; Mona had been trying to beat her in that class all year.

"No need to be cocky," Mona countered, grinning. "You're not that far ahead of me."

"Not yet."

The two girls shared a smile, and Spencer wondered how she'd gotten to this point. The point where she had almost forgiven Mona for everything she put them through. The point where Spencer's sister was locked away in prison and would be for some time yet. The point where Mr and Mrs Hastings finally looked at Spencer with something other than mild frustration and disappointment; something closer to respect.

Spencer ran her hand absently along the A scar. It had once made her wince to look at it; it was a reminder of everything she'd lost, every bad thing she'd done. But gradually, the further away she got from That Night, the more she was able to look at it differently. It wasn't a Scarlet Letter. It was a badge of honor. She'd taken on the devil and won. Melissa had shown her the darkness that lay inside both of them, and Spencer had refused to give in. Melissa's rage and jealousy had turned deadly, but Spencer had kept hers under control. And with the help of her friends, she knew she could keep doing it.

After a couple of minutes, which Spencer and Mona spent chattering about the latest Stephen King book, the other girls made their way over to them. Aria came first, and sat down after only a brief confused look at Mona. Hanna hesitated longer, but after a brief nod with Spencer she let it pass without comment. And Emily just blinked a couple times, then sat down without question.

Once they were all seated, conversation started up about plans for the weekend; watching movies at the old drive-in, then going to Aria's house for the night. Mona stayed silent while they talked, and Spencer felt a twinge of guilt. Mona didn't have many friends, given everything Ali had done to them and everything she'd done to them in turn. And now Spencer fully understood how it would feel to be without friends; she'd almost lost all of hers, all because of her sister.

"Mona," Spencer said, and the other girl looked at her with a startled expression, "do you want to come?"

"I'm not sure I'd be welcome," Mona mumbled, not looking at the others.

Spencer's gaze drifted around all her friends, none of whom said anything. Then she turned her attention back to Mona and said, "You're more than welcome. We'd like to have you there."

"Really?"

Spencer nodded, and no one argued. After Mona graciously accepted the offer, conversation only stopped for about half a second, and then, taking their lead from her, the other girls started making more of an effort to include Mona. Spencer leaned back, letting the conversation flow over her, warm and soothing. She knew they hadn't forgiven Mona, and maybe they never fully would; but, similarly, she herself would never be fully forgiven. By Melissa, for whatever she'd done to her. By her friends, for all the things she'd put them through. By Toby and Wren and anyone else she'd hurt.

But maybe this was her second chance. She couldn't fix all her mistakes, but she could try to be better. She could try to make amends and move on, to listen more and speak less, to make sure the past didn't repeat itself.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

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