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If you poison us, do we not die?
And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
Your Move, Ali
1. Hanna’s Big Break
2. Tortured Artist
3. The Write Stuff
4. Orange Is the New Romantic
5. A Star Is Born
6. And Now, Introducing Rosewood’s Latest
Prodigy . . .
7. The Bullied . . . or the Bully?
9. She’s Baa-Ack. . . .
10. Maxi Stalking at the Mini-Mart
11. Aria’s First Feature
12. Nothing Says Sexy Like a Guard-Supervised Date
13. (It) Girls Gone Wild
14. Opening Night
15. Stand Clear of the Closing Doors
16. Paradise Lost
17. The Lair
18. The Sting Operation
19. Spencer’s Got a Fan. . . .
20. Rock Bottom
21. I’ll Be Your Best Friend. . . .
22. A Tour and an A
23. Somebody’s Out There
24. Set ’Em Free, Then Kill ’Em Off
25. Fame Does Funny Things to a Girl. . . .
26. Aria’s Angel—or Devil—Investor
27. Meow Meow Meow!
29. A Light in the Attic
30. Cleanup Job
31. The Waiting Game
32. All’s Well that Ends Well
33. No Press Is Bad Press
34. Spencer Books It
35. The Master Plan
About the Author
About the Publisher
YOUR MOVE, ALI
Have you ever played chess with someone
really good? Perhaps with your cousin on a
rainy afternoon? Or with that cute guy at
camp after lights-out? The game seems easy,
but chess experts formulate their strategy
dozens of moves in advance. That way, they
can hit you with sneak attacks, leaving you
thinking, What just happened? You might
feel manipulated when the game is done.
Blindsided. Like you’re the biggest idiot ever.
A certain someone does that to four
pretty girls in Rosewood—again and again.
Once upon a time, there was a girl whose
mind was like a never-ending chess game.
Even when she seemed beaten, she always
had a plan. Everyone was her adversary—especially the people who adored her most. All
she wanted was her pieces to be the only
ones left on the board at the end of the game.
And she wouldn’t stop until she’d won.
One week after the fire in the Poconos that
almost killed her, Alison DiLaurentis sat
with her boyfriend, Nicholas Maxwell, on the
floor of an empty town house in Rosewood,
Pennsylvania, a suburban Philadelphia town
in which she’d spent several years of her life.
The room was dark, and the only items in it
were a mattress, ratty flannel blankets, an
old TV someone had abandoned, and food
Nick had shoplifted from the nearby Wawa
mini-mart. The air smelled dusty and sour,
which reminded Ali of The Preserve at
Addison-Stevens, the mental hospital in
which she’d been trapped for years. Still, it
would do for a while. It just felt good to be
“Turn it up,” she said, gesturing toward