Ashley: "Who are you talking to so late?"
Hanna: "Just wishing Emily happy birthday. Just wishing her the birthday gift of Jenna's grim, brutal young life finally getting snuffed out."
Ashley: "So I figured out who paid the bail, and it wasn't your dad."
Hanna: "I guess on some level I knew it was Pastor Ted. So I guess you'll be having a lot of sex with him, moving forward."
Ashley: "It's looking that way, sweetie."
Paige: "I still can't believe you were the one who saved Jenna Marshall."
Emily: "I still can't believe somebody tried to kill her at my birthday party."
Paige: "Or it was a total accident! Why, somebody would have to be crazy to do that. I think it was an accident and she just blindly hit herself with a rock and then stumbled into the water and just kept walking, and bleeding, further out into the water, until she just drowned."
Emily: "Yeah. Or somebody's trying to keep her quiet about Alison."
Paige: "Yeah, or that. Those are the main options we should explore. Forget what I said about the crazy person and focus on those."
Aria: "Thanks for coming over, Jake."
Jake: "I was just thinking about how if Emily hadn't pulled her out of the lake, that blind girl would be dead now. But instead, whoever did it just wasted their fucking time."
Aria: "Yeah, about that. I have a history with Mona and Jenna. It's long and fairly unrealistic. Suffice to say that I don't want to pull you in with me."
Jake: "Maybe you can let someone else help you navigate for a while."
Aria: "I guess. I guess you didn't mean that as shitty as it came out."
Jake: "Say, how jealous were you? On a scale of first base, second base..."
Aria: "I'm gonna say shortstop? But between you and me you're lookin' at a triple."
JUST A QUIET NIGHT, THE TWO OF US
Paige locks the door and turns off the lights and joins Emily on the bed near the giant window, but Emily's unresponsive when she says her name so, disappointed and still pretty worried, she just turns off the lamp and climbs in, sighing. Meanwhile, Emily stares at the wall and holds very still, because her life -- her regular life, the thing we turn to when we can't cope with the adrenalized hyperreality of our A life -- can't seem to stop exploding. Where do you hide when your hiding place is even more dangerous?