- Aria's POV -

Everyday, I wish I could go back to when the only pain I felt was the stinging of my skin from the cold or my sore feet from the long walk home after school, just a few minutes before my whole world came crashing down.

I wish I could go back to when my heart wasn't constantly aching from the loss. Back to when I didn't have any nightmares that would make me cry a waterfall of tears. Back to when I was living a normal, happy life.

But none of my wishes will ever come true.

"I dare you to poke your head into that hole." I say, distracting myself from my thoughts.

Miles shakes his head, almost violently. "No way."

I throw my head back and let out a bark of laughter. Miles grunts in response but I don't miss the playful smile he wears. We sit in silence, but surprisingly there's nothing awkward about it. My eyes become heavy. How long have we been in here for? Two hours? Three?

"What happens if we need to pee?" Miles blurts.

Crap. I haven't thought of that.

"We'll be so screwed." I say. Thank goodness I don't need to pee right now. "But I still hate you for not letting me eat before this happened."

He narrows his eyes and kicks at my foot. "I still hate you, too. Plus, it's not my fault we're trapped down here. You're the one who hid my shoes."

Actually, it was your mom. But she's awesome so I'm not going to tell you.

"And you're the one who messed with my art."

"It wasn't even my idea! It was that dude . . . Leo! The guy who is obsessed with you."

"What? You're blaming Leo? Wow, Miles. I can't believe you." I snap, shaking my head in disappointment. Leo would never do anything to sabotage my work. He knows how much it means to me.

"Fine, whatever. But I'm being honest. He said he wanted to get back at you for rejecting him or something."

I scoff. "Even if he did help you, it's your fault that you agreed. You didn't have to, but you did."

Why are we still arguing about this?

Miles finally shuts up. Thank god, his voice was getting annoying. Man, I wish he had a mute button. Life would be so much easier.

"What were they like?"

I spoke too soon.

"Who?" I ask.

"Your parents."

Oh.

What were they like? They were sweethearts; the most loved couple in town. They were kind to everyone and they were the best parents anyone could ever ask for. Optimistic, trustworthy, hilarious, supportive, one of a kind.

"Crap, you don't have to answer that. I didn't—"

"Amazing," I smile sadly, remembering all the happy memories I shared with them. "They were amazing. Have you ever had that moment when you meet someone for the first time and they say one sentence, and you instantly decide you love them? Yeah, they were those people. They were the kind you could talk about anything with and feel totally comfortable."

"I wish I could have met them." Miles says, pressing his lips together. "They were probably much more entertaining than you."

"Hey!" I shove him playfully. He laughs and moves to sit beside me, stretching his legs out.

"I'm kidding, Shortcake. You're definitely fun to be around." His comment makes me blush, and I silently curse.

I'm about to reply, but we both scramble to our feet at the sound of Kristen's voice through the door.

"Miles? Aria? Where the hell are you kids?"

"Holy shit, Mom. We're in the closet!" Miles bangs on the door.

"What the hell are you doing inside the closet? Please don't tell me you guys did the dirty in there."

Miles and I both go red and look at each other with wide eyes.

"What? No way, Mom! Just help us get out of here." He groans, shaking his head.

She laughs. After five minutes of banging and clicking, the door finally swings open and Kristen engulfs me in a hug.

"How long we you in there for?" She questions, pulling away and patting my hair down.

"Two or three hours." I tell her. My legs feel like Jell-O. I almost knock Miles over.

While he and Kristen discuss how we got stuck in there, my eyes dart towards the table where the photos of the crime scene used to be. They're gone, just like the person who put them there in the first place. I was so, so close to seeing the face of my parent's possible murderer. They were right there, in this very room. Maybe if I just looked harder, I would have caught them.

If that happened, you'd probably be dead by now.

"Shortcake?" Miles appears by my side. "Where did the—"

"I don't know," I say bluntly. "You have the cloth with you, right?"

He nods and looks to his mother, who's collecting his shoes from the closet. "Mom's not going to take this news very well."

"Yeah, I wouldn't either." I step away from him and offer to help carry the shoes back upstairs. Once everything is back in place, Kristen leaves the two of us in Miles' room to make us something to eat. Apparently everyone else is still asleep.

"Wow, a lot can happen in a matter of hours, huh?" He says, throwing himself onto his bed.

I yawn and lay down next to him. "I'm so confused."

"Me too," He pulls out the cloth from his pocket and hands it to me. "You really think he could be connected to all of this?"

"Why else would he have those pictures?"

He frowns. "I have no clue. This doesn't make any sense."

"Tell me about it." I mutter, holding up the red cloth in front of my face. "Do you think maybe your parents have any more information on Mike?"

"I don't think so, but I'll have to ask anyway." Miles rests his head on the place where my neck and shoulder meet, digging his nose into my hair.

My breath hitches, and when he throws his arm over my stomach to pull me closer, I go still. After a few moments, I begin to relax.

"We will figure this out, Shortcake." He murmers lazily.

"'We'?" I wonder out loud.

But he doesn't respond. His soft breathing is a clear indication that he's sleeping. A smile creeps onto my lips as I close my eyes. Maybe Miles isn't as bad as I thought.