Chapter Four
The DiLaurentis family ate in tense silence.
Jessica watched her children. She had told them she’d finally be honest with them, and she couldn’t take it back. She sipped her wine, trying to muster the courage to tell them the secret she had been hiding for sixteen years. Alison’s eyes kept flickering to her mother then back to her food. She was anxious to hear the truth, anxious to learn who her mother was protecting so badly. She had been anxiously awaiting this conversation for two long years.
Jason kept glancing between his mother and sister. He had come home to his sister hiccupping tearfully with damp cheeks as their mother took the lasagna dish out of the oven. When he showed his concern at his sister’s state, his mother had merely assured him that everything would be alright and there was a family meeting needed after they ate.
So, they ate in silence and the siblings washed and dried the dishes in mutual silence as Jessica put the leftover food away before disappearing wordlessly to the basement for a short time.
“What is this about?” Jason asks once they’re all finally seated in the living room. He figures a family meeting is well overdue. He’s sitting on the couch with Alison nestled beside him. Jessica sat in the comfortable recliner across from them.
Jessica sighs. She doesn’t speak yet; she just takes something out of her pocket and holds it out to them. Jason takes it and unfolds it, holding it so both he and Alison can see. It’s a photograph. The photo has a younger Jessica, a four-year-old Jason and an infant Alison. And in the photo is another little boy the same size as Jason, with the same light blonde hair and blue eyes.
“Charlie?” Jason asks suddenly.
“Charlie?” Ali asks, frowning. “Who’s Charlie?”
Jason swallows. “My imaginary friend.”
“He looks pretty real to me…” she drifts off in confusion.
Jason looks at Jessica, thinking back to his younger years. “You and Dad talked to him,” he says slowly, piecing everything together finally. “You carried him around and gave him hugs and kisses. He held Ali and helped feed her and played in the room when I wasn’t even in there. Then one day you told me that Charlie wasn’t real, and he had to go away. But he was real. He was a real person.”
Alison’s eyes widened suddenly in realization. “Wait. We have a brother?”
“No,” Jessica says quickly. She steadies her breath. “You had a brother.”
“Is he dead?” Alison asks bluntly. She sees Jason flinch out of the corner of her eye and she feels sorry but only shortly. She needs to know the answer. If he’s dead, then what does he have to do with her getting buried alive? And how did he tie into A?
“I have to start this story a little earlier in history. I had a twin sister—an identical twin.”
“What?!”
“My sister was a very ill person. When we were fourteen, she was institutionalized in Radley Sanitarium.” She sees both sets of eyes widen but continues. “I was babysitting a baby we had both frequently watched. I was fourteen and had a boy problem. It was the end of the world to young teenager me. So, I asked Mary to come watch the baby—he knew her, and his parents knew her. I don’t know what happened, I never got the full story, but when his parents came home, they found the baby dead. My parents sent her to Radley to keep her from being arrested. It was more for their reputation than for her anyways. I had received a call from one of the heads of the institution, it wasn’t long before I discovered I was pregnant with Jason. They told me Mary was pregnant, and they needed a home for the baby when it was born. So I agreed. When we found out I was pregnant with Jason, your father wasn’t happy with the idea anymore. The idea of two babies not even a full year apart was daunting. But I knew that both babies would become best of friends.”
“Until he had to ‘go away,’” Jason scoffs.
“Charles was born in Radley, and he was given to me minutes after birth. I brought him to our doctor for a checkup, adoption papers were signed quickly as they deemed Mary mentally unstable to be his parent and then we brought. Five months later, Jason was born. When I was pregnant with Alison, you and Charlie were barely three. When we found out you were a girl,” she directs this one to Alison, “Charlie was so happy. Jason, you weren’t too thrilled to have a baby sister. But Charlie was so excited. It was around this age that we noticed that he wasn’t...acting like he was expected.”
“Acting how?” Alison asks before Jason could. She swallows. Was he dangerous? Unstable?
“He was asking for dresses and skirts and pink. He wanted a tea set instead of a football. He asked to grow his hair long and wanted clips and bows.”
“He wanted a sister...because he wanted to be a big sister?”
“After you were born, he kept asking me to introduce him as ‘Charlie, short for Charlotte,’ instead of ‘Charlie, short for Charles.’”
“Dad must have hated that. I’ve never been good enough for him, so no way was a boy who wanted to be a girl was.” Jason hated that. That his sibling felt unwanted by their father at such a young age.
“Dad made him go away, right?” Ali asks the question Jason was thinking.
“You had just turned one. I was in the garden talking with a neighbor and Jason was with me playing with some toy trucks. Your father was starting the grill. Charles was inside playing with his tea set that I bought him despite your father’s disapproval. You were taking a nap. You woke up and you were crying. Charlie said he tried calling to me from the window, but I didn’t hear him. Charlie always loved baths; they always made him feel better.” Alison had a queasy feeling in her stomach. She pulled her feet up on the couch, hugging her knees. Jason put an arm around her shoulders. “He started the bath, turning the hot water on all the way. By himself he managed to get you out of your crib and undress you and he put you in the tub. The water was rising fast and was scalding hot. Your father heard your screams and went upstairs and got you out. He swore that Charles was trying to drown you, but I know he was just trying to be a good big brother.”
“What happened to him?” Alison asks, voice thick with emotion.
“Your father put his foot down. Put Charles into Radley, or he walked and would take you with him.”
“So you traded Charles for me?”
“Why didn’t you fight for him? You could have fought for Charlie and kept Ali home. He couldn’t force you to institutionalize him because he wore dresses and gave a baby a bath without any harm done. And Dad couldn’t have just taken Ali.”
“I didn’t have a choice, Jason. Your father owned the house. He had the job. He provided for us so I could stay home with the three of you. But I was there for him. After we put him in Radley, we moved to Rosewood—here—to be closer to him. I joined the board at Radley and visited him frequently. Even in Radley, he just wanted to be a girl. When Charles was twelve, I bought him a yellow dress for Christmas.”
“The two yellow dresses in the piano,” Ali murmurs, recalling that day.
“I didn’t mean to, but I found your hiding place. Did you and Daddy get me the same present?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Daddy will find it funny when I tell him.”
“There are not two dresses.”
“I think you need glasses.”
“You found the present. One present. You opened it and there was one dress.”
“Why, Mommy?”
“Because I don’t want Daddy to leave us. And he will if you tell him about the dresses.”
“I’ll say whatever you want me to.”
“Good girl. Now tell me what happened. The real story.”
“I was playing the piano and I looked inside of it and found one present. One yellow dress.”
“Good girl. One more time.”
“Yes,” Jessica confirms. “After that, every time I bought you clothes, I bought him the same clothes. When he was fourteen, he tried to kill himself. And I had a choice to make. I let Charles finally become Charlotte.”
“So... we have a sister out there?” she asks.
“You do.”
“In Radley?” Jason clarifies.
“No. She, um, kind of escaped Radley. She changed her name and is living a life out there.”
Ali swallows and Jessica knows the question is coming before she asks it. “What does Charlotte have to do with that night?”
“Are you talking about that night you were buried alive in the backyard?” Jason asks, an edge to his tone. His elation that Charlie—Charlotte—was alive and out there was suddenly replaced with the anger that she may have attempted to kill his little sister.
“You knew?” Jessica asks faintly.
“Ali told me when she came home. Charlotte had to do with that night?”
“She didn’t mean to. She did—she didn’t know it was Alison.” Jason scoffs but Ali has her full attention on her mother. “She had some serious issues with another girl, Bethany. I had been, um...in a relationship with Bethany’s father.”
“Come on, Mom,” Jason groans.
She ignores him. “I bought you both that same yellow top. Bethany stole Charlotte’s and snuck out as Charlotte had out privileges. Bethany came to hurt me, maybe even kill me. Charlotte snuck out and saw you in the yard. You were standing right there, and I saw her approach you with that rock and I...it happened so fast.”
“And you buried me,” she says, tears spilling out. “You chose her?”
“I thought you were dead. If I called the police, they would have locked Charlotte up forever. I would have lost you both.” She sniffs, wiping at her own tears. “I lost you both, anyways.”
Jason hugged his sister closely and then asked the burning question. “If she had out privileges... have we met her?”
“You have, you know her well.”
Alison sat up. It all suddenly made sense. Why even though she dated Jason they never did anything. Why she always hung out with her. Why her mother was always so wary of their friendship. Why they looked so much alike.
“Cece is Charlotte,” Alison whispers.
“Wait, Cece Drake?” Jason asks incredulously. “My ex-girl—wait, you let me date my sister?”
“I wasn’t exactly for it, remember?”
“Where is she now?” Jason asks.
“I don’t...know. I told her the night of the bridal shower that I can’t help her anymore. I knew at that point that Alison was alive and I couldn’t keep protecting her. I gave her a bag of clothes, she got arrested for Wilden’s murder, I paid off the cop and I don’t know where she went from there.”
“She’s in Paris,” Alison says.
“What?” Jason asks. “Paris?”
“The night I came home I saw her. She came to New York, and I gave her my fake ID and passport. She's in Paris right now. I have her number. I'm not sharing it, though.”
“Alison.”
“No. I'll reach out to her when I'm ready. Next time she’s contacted by someone, it’ll be me.”
And with that, she stood up and went to her room shakily, hearing her brother’s footsteps following.