Maybe you could sell me something
that would help calm my nerves.
Pot. Maybe some brownies.
It's not just the junkyard,
I-it's the bottle of hair color in the dark room,
the text in Sullivan's office.
How did A know we were all gonna be there
at the exact same time?
Bitch chipped us.
Hi, this is Alison.
I'm not available to take your call.
Please leave me a message.
- You find anything? - Yeah.
Most microchips are about the size of a grain of rice
and all they contain is an ID number, but..
...ours feels bigger.
It's like A modified it
so that he could track our every move.
Oh, my God! What is that?
Somebody removing their dog's microchip.
We're gonna have to get it out somehow.
Yeah, on second thought, maybe we should just keep ours in.
Maybe we should.
Spencer, I was joking.
No, I'm not.
A doesn't know that we know he's tracking us.
That's the only edge that we have over Charles.
And we have to figure out a way to use it.