November 22, 2025

Update Link: You’re Not Sorry – Part 50

Let’s kick this marathon off 🙂

I really think we’ll finish this story by the end of the marathon, but I also thought this story would only be 50 parts at most, so what do I know?

I’m spending this weekend planning the rest of the marking period and even working on unit plans for the rest of the year. It feels so good to be looking at the big picture stuff again and not stressing over the nitty gritty details of what am I going to teach tomorrow? This is the first year when I’ve given myself permission to actually let the majority of December-January be media/book content and not try to teach new material. I already feel like how that change is going to be really helpful next year in making the schedule. Every year I teach, I learn new ways to make life easier, and after next year, I won’t have to add new courses (which also means I lose that extra money writing curriculum but that’s stress for later) so we are in the home stretch.

A note on times —

Saturdays, I think writing at 1, posting at 2 will generally be the sweet spot. Sundays, should be similar but might move earlier. Monday – Friday, when I’m working, I’m hoping to write at 4 or 5 PM depending on the schedule, and days off (like Thanksgiving and next Friday) will depend on energy.

Next Saturday, I have my Praxis exam (will stress explain this later) so I’ll be updating earlier that day.

See you tomorrow 🙂

This entry is part 50 of 50 in the series Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 57 minutes.


Friday, September 20, 2024

General Hospital: Doctor’s Suite

Jason shot to his feet as soon as the office door opened and Danny slunk out, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders still hunched.

He met Danny at the receptionist’s desk where the nurse on duty asked if they were scheduling the next session.

Jason looked at his son, one brow lightly lifted. “Danny? Are we coming back?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Danny avoided Jason’s gaze, keeping his gaze trained on the carpet. “It didn’t suck, so I guess we can come back.”

Exhaling his first easy breath, Jason looked back at the nurse. “Okay. What’s available?”

Miller & Davis: Diane’s Office

Elizabeth sat forward, her nostrils flaring, her eyes narrowing. “I’m sorry, did you just say Gia Campbell filed the reply motion?”

Diane slid the file across the desk and Elizabeth snatched it up. “There’s no way this is the same Gia,” she said flatly.

“We confirmed that the same Gia who works in the State Attorney’s office is the former Deception model. I take it that your relationship didn’t end amicably?”

Elizabeth hesitated, laid the file down, then rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. We were never friends. Most of the time, we were hostile. I mean, we only met because she was blackmailing Emily so we didn’t exactly get off to the right start. What the hell is she doing on my case?”

“That’s what Spinelli and I wondered. We could only find some basic facts — that the two of you had sparred over a modeling competition. But Gia blackmailed Emily?” Diane echoed. “Over what?”

“Oh. That’s—that’s not exactly relevant,” Elizabeth said, with a wince. “But Gia and I just never quite  figured out how to be easy with each other, and Nikolas kept her around. They were engaged for a while before they broke up. This is crazy, Diane. Why would the government want someone who knows me on the case—” she stopped. “They wouldn’t. It’s a conflict of interest. You’d just file a motion, wouldn’t you? You’d tell them about the Deception contest. Laura would testify that Gia loathed me. Nikolas and Lucky are still around. God, even Jason knew how much Gia hated me. Gia knows this. What’s going on?”

“You’ve jumped ahead to the most important question. Who’s playing the game?” Diane leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs. “But what I need to know from you is how do you want me to handle it? I can have the motion filed Monday to have her removed from the case. But—”

“Do we get in trouble if we don’t?” Elizabeth wanted to know. “I mean, are we waiving my right to complain about her appointment if we say nothing?”

“We could argue that this modeling competition was a lifetime ago and both of you have moved on to different careers. After all, we’re from Port Charles. Everyone knows everyone here, and there’s always conflicts of interests that have to be weighed.” Diane tipped her head. “Gia might have nefarious motives, but what damage could she really do?”

“Nothing, I guess. I’m not guilty, and I don’t know who really did this. Neither does Jason.” Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip. “Do we let it happen? See how it plays out? I mean, all she could really give Reynolds is ancient history. What’s she going to tell him? That Lucky thought I was cheating on him with Jason? I was, just not physically. And so what, right?” She let out a quick breath. “Let’s play it out. I want to know what Gia’s up to after all these years.”

“That’s what I was going to recommend. We’ll be in court in a week or so anyway.” Diane flipped through her notes. “In other news, the reply didn’t have any surprises, so it’s really just going to depend on the judge and what we can dig up between now and then. Spinelli didn’t find anything interesting in your security footage, but we’re still waiting on subpoenas for your neighbors’ security footage, particularly across the street.”

“Okay. Um, we do know how long that might take?”

“A few weeks. This is the hardest part, Elizabeth,” Diane told her. “Everything happens behind the scenes, and you just have to sit back and wait. You and Jason have done that so far, and I’m going to keep asking for your patience. I know it feels like nothing is happening, but we’re making progress, I promise. Just…live your life. And leave this up to me and Spinelli.”

Penthouse: Living Room

Sam clenched her hands in lap, her palms slightly damp from sweat as she watched Rocco trudge down the stairs and nearly throw himself into the chair across from she and Dante at the dining table.

“You bellowed?” he wanted to know.

Dante leaned forward, his eyes dark. “Sit up. Now.”

Rocco rolled his eyes, but obediently straightened, laying his elbows on the desk. “You know, you’re taking Drew’s word for this. You didn’t even ask me—”

“It didn’t come from Drew,” Dante interrupted. “It came from Danny.”

Rocco’s face lost a little color, but he swallowed hard. “Bullshit.”

“He told Jason,” Sam said softly, and Rocco looked at her sharply. “Jason wanted to keep Danny’s confidence, so he and Michael were trying to set it up to catch you in the act. I don’t agree with it,” she added when Dante made another face. “But you need to understand that denial isn’t an option here.”

“Whatever. You’re all acting like I committed a federal crime, okay? Everyone does it. And if Aunt Liz weren’t accused of murder, no one would have even given a damn last week. You’d have picked up from the station, read us the riot act, and life would have been fine—”

“That’s your defense?” Dante demanded. “Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, you’re all getting twisted up over something that’s not a big deal—”

“Did you notice that neither of my children are here?” Sam interrupted and Rocco swung his dark eyes back to hers. “Danny might be one thing, but Drew is suing me for custody. Because I have a teenager in my home doing drugs and drinking alcohol.”

“Two teenagers,” Dante added tightly, and Sam pursed her lips before continuing.

“Drew’s an asshole. Everyone knows that—” But Rocco swallowed again. “Did—did he win—”

“Emergency custody. He claims Scout is in danger in the house.” Sam’s voice trembled slightly, and she had to a deep breath. “The fact that you were using the Quartermaine estate to do this — that you were making both her homes unsafe—”

“Oh, Christ—”

Dante leaned down to snag the shoebox they’d found under Rocco’s bed and practically threw it on the table. Whatever color Rocco had left drained, his eyes focused on the center of the table. “You want to keep talking? Scout’s a kid. She could have found this.”

“Okay, so maybe I should have hid it better—”

Dante shoved away from the table, the chair flying backwards, and Rocco looked up, his eyes widened. “Shut up. Right now.”

“Rocco, you don’t seem to understand the trouble you’re in. The trouble you’ve caused—” Sam began.

“The trouble I caused?” Rocco demanded, the flush rising again. “You’re kidding right? Danny’s not here because of you. I’ll take the heat on Scout, obviously, okay? But like, let’s not pretend Danny was happy here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam demanded, getting to her feet.

“Don’t play stupid,” Rocco retorted.

“Watch your tone—” Dante began.

“No, I’m done with this.” Rocco shoved himself to his feet. “You wanna jump down my throat about the weed — fine. Whatever. But it’s not all my fault. Danny hid his stash in the closet. Okay? We both were getting high. I didn’t have to twist his damn arm. He was miserable, and this made it better for a while.” He sneered a little. “Aiden, you know, wasn’t really into it. I guess even with being gay, he doesn’t have a lot to run away from.”

Sam went very still. “Excuse me?”

Dante, as if sensing the line of attack coming, lifted an arm. “Rocco, it’s time to go upstairs—”

“You need to drawn out for you, Sam? No problem. You make Danny miserable. You always did. You put too much pressure on him to be better than you, and he always liked being at Aunt Liz’s more than here. Even before his dad came home. He’s living there because she’s better. And you damn well know it.”

“Rocco, upstairs now,” Dante ordered.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Rocco said. “Don’t pretend you don’t see it, Dad. Sam’s second best. Everyone knows it. If my mom were awake, we wouldn’t even be here—”

Dante came around the table, and Rocco sprinted backwards to avoid his father snagging him by the arm. “No, you wanted the truth, Dad. You don’t get to complain how that it’s out. I hate living here. And I hate you for making me come here. This is all your fault. Both of you! You’re both sitting here like you got any right to tell me what to do! You’re not my mother,” he spat at Sam. “And you never will be.”

He turned and darted for the front door, and Dante charged after him. Sam stood alone in the room, tears staining her cheeks.

Second best.

Dante came back a minute later, his face flushed. “He took the stairs, I’m going after him in the elevator—”

Sam looked at him, blinking. “What?”

“The elevator. Call the lobby. Tell them to stop Rocco before he gets down there.”

“Right. Right.” Sam swiped at her cheeks, then picked up her phone. “I’m on it.”

Pozzulo’s: Dining Room

Kristina kissed her father’s cheek and set down the white Wyndham’s bag in front of him. “I saw this  while I was out today, and it made me think of you.” She slid into the booth across from him.

Sonny lifted the neatly packaged tie from the bag and smiled faintly. “It’s nice. I’ll wear it to my next court appearance.”

Kristina wrinkled her nose, poured herself a cup of water from the pitcher by the wall. “You won’t have to wait long. I’m due in next week for the dismissal.” She flicked her eyes to him. “Unless you’re going to something for Elizabeth first. I haven’t been following her case since she got out.”

“Not much to follow.” Sonny set the tie to the side of the table, then put the shopping bag on the floor. “You know as much as I do. Though I imagine Diane was as happy to learn about the voicemails Cates faked as your mother was.”

“I’m not sure how it helps Elizabeth, but it’s definitely good for me. It makes him look crazy, doesn’t it?” And made Kristina even more sure of what she’d done. If she hadn’t taken care of things, Cates would still be wreaking havoc on her family. “Does it help her?”

“I guess it depends on if they can prove Jason or Elizabeth knew Cates was trying to set him up.” Sonny winced. “I guess if Elizabeth knew, it might give her motive. But I don’t know how they’re getting past the alibi. Michael was with her.”

“Well, you know the truth doesn’t matter to the FBI. And as much as I hate Molly getting involved,” Kristina said, “I suppose it’s a good thing. Dante and Chase are good cops. They’ll get to the bottom of this.” She looked up to find her father watching her. “What?”

“Why don’t you want your sister involved?”

“Because she’s just using it to avoid her issues with me. She won’t even talk to me now, Dad. She’s acting like I’m evil because I loved my daughter. That I grieved for her. What did she expect? I carried her, you know.” Kristina’s throat tightened. “I’m the one who lived with that precious child all those months. Molly never met her.”

“I think there’s room for everyone to grieve for what was lost,” Sonny said carefully. “And your sister is handling this as best as she can. I’m glad she went up against the FBI. They’re not looking for the real killer.”

“I just hope Dante and Chase don’t make the same mistakes the FBI did. I mean, everyone’s acting like Cates’ life started here last year. Maybe it was someone else. Someone else he framed,” Kristina said. “If he tried to go after me and Jason, of course he’s done it before. But they’re just asking the same people the same questions. Mom said Chase talked to her.”

“Mmm, and Chase talked to me,” Sonny said. “They’re running the same leads, Kristina. Eliminating suspects again. Haven’t they talked to you?”

“Not yet. Mom probably stopped them before they got to me. I don’t care. I’ll talk to them, but it’s a waste of time. Whoever did this is long gone.”

November 21, 2025

Hello 🙂 So good news and bad news.

Bad news — I’m gonna miss tonight’s Flash Fiction.

Good news — tomorrow, we start a holiday marathon! I’m committing to updating Flash Fiction every day between now and January 4!

I had a great week at work! I’m almost completely prepped for NEXT week already! I’ve got about an hour or two of work tonight (maybe three). I only have a limited amount to prep for December since I do less content, and that’ll be done by the end of Thanksgiving break — which gives me an entire month to start prepping January and the rest of the year. The last three months have been awful slog of too much work, too little downtime at work with chaos in renovations, burns, and illnesses, blegh. But I’m feeling really great about the rest of the year (and even getting a headstart on NEXT YEAR, crazy!)

I have lots of plans to make up for the last three months starting in December — but we’re starting small with Flash Fiction updates daily for 44 days — which should let me either finish the current story or get REALLLY close to it.

I really appreciate all the patience over the last few months,  especially with the constant skipped updates. I don’t take it for granted those of you who return update after update or support me at Patreon. Thank you so much, and I can’t await to get this marathon kicking!

I’ll be writing around 1PM and posting at 2PM tomorrow!

November 16, 2025

Update Link: You’re Not Sorry – Part 49

Look at me updating two days in a row! Miracles are still possible.

Spent the majority of yesterday and today prepping, and I’ve actually nearly prepped two of my three subjects through Thanksgiving break. I guess all needed to focus was a properly working hand and a well-heated house. Who would have thought?

Hoping to make a Wednesday update happen! I want to get moving on this story — we’ve been stuck in this spot for a while, and I’m sympathetic to people who aren’t that interested in the Danny stuff. I get it — he’s not my favorite character either, but I promise, this is going somewhere and leads back into the Kristina storyline.

See you (hopefully) Wednesday!

This entry is part 49 of 50 in the series Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 72 minutes. Went over  because I really wanted to finish the last scene so we can move on 😛


Friday, September 20, 2024

General Hospital: Eighth Floor

Danny flung himself down into a seat, crossed his arms, and glared at his father. “The only reason I’m even coming to this stupid thing is I get to skip to school. I’m not doing it again.”

Jason didn’t even bother to respond to this barb as it was a variation on the theme Danny had been complaining about since the night before. Drew had, in fact, arrived at the penthouse before Jason could warn Dante, and had made a tense situation even worse. Drew was filing for custody of Scout based on drug use in the home, and Dante was pissed that Jason had known and said nothing.

He hadn’t asked for Sam’s reaction to that information — Jason doubted she felt any differently.

Jason stepped up to the counter. “Danny Morgan to see Dr. Fletcher,” he said, already pulling out his wallet for the health insurance card and debit card. He handed the materials to the receptionist and looked at his son.

“This was always voluntary, Danny. You don’t want to come back, you don’t have to. But I’m not changing my mind. If Rocco was still drinking and getting high, I had every right to do something to stop it. I tried to keep you out of it, but that didn’t work out. You want to be mad, be mad. But don’t forget — we’re here because you and Rocco screwed up last weekend. You’re not a victim. Stop acting like one.”

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

“I mean, I’m sorry it came out the way it did,” Willow said, coming around to stand beside Elizabeth at the counter and reach for a stack of charts. “But Drew isn’t wrong. Dante had every right to know about this—”

Elizabeth bit back her first retort which was entirely unkind towards the younger man, and gripped her pen more tightly. “It was being handled, Willow. Are you happy with how it’s going now? Rocco’s angry with Danny, Danny’s trying to back out of therapy, Drew and Sam are going to end up in family court, and Dante’s furious with everyone.”

“Well, you and Jason shouldn’t have tried to protect Danny in the first place.” Willow planted a hand on her hip. “Don’t you think Drew has a point? Rocco and Danny are obviously a bad influence on each other, and if they’re getting drunk or high on the state, who knows what they’re doing at home. He has every reason to worry about Scout. I’m surprised you’re not more worried about Aiden being around them. You know how sensitive and easily led he can be—”

Elizabeth tossed her pen aside. “You don’t know my son. You were his teacher for one year six years ago, Willow.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put you on the defense.” Willow held up her hands. “I’m just saying that while I wish it hadn’t happened the way it did, I think it’s for the best it’s all out in the open. Honesty is always the best policy.”

“Really?  You want honesty?” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Michael confided in you as his wife. No crimes were being committed. No one was being hurt. We were trying to protect everyone and make sure Rocco got help by catching him in the act so he couldn’t deny it. But you decided you knew better than anyone else and betrayed Michael’s trust. What kind of wife are you?”

Willow’s expression froze and color leeched from her skin. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Drew wasn’t even involved. He knows damn well Scout was never in danger. He’s not worried about her. He’s worried about the optics. Just like he was the day John Cates was murdered on that property. It’s about him. But you disagreed with how we were handling the situation, and blabbed a secret that your husband wanted you to keep between the both of you. If anything, now we know that you can’t be trusted. Don’t complain the next time Michael keeps you in the dark. You’ve proved your loyalty isn’t with him.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Willow hissed. She jerked the charts from the counter and stalked down the hallway.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and got back to work.

Silver Water Rehabilitation Center: Lulu Spencer’s Room

Dante paced the length of the room, then stopped to look at the still figure lying in the bed. “Christ, I wish you were here.” He dragged his hands through his hair, then dropped into the chair by her bed.

“I thought I was a good father, you know? I thought—” He shook his head, looked at his hand, at the finger where his wedding ring had once been. He circled the bare skin with his other hand. “I thought I was doing okay. That Sam and I were building a future together, and that I’d given Rocco a good life. A family. He and Danny are like brothers—” Dante exhaled on a low breath. “But he’s screwing up and he doesn’t get it. Why doesn’t he get it?”

He touched the edge of the bed, running the tips of his fingers over the rough texture of the hospital blanket. “He’s drinking, getting high — and I keep thinking about your dad and your brother. Lucky with the pills, your dad with the alcohol. The damage they did. You used to tell me the only addiction you inherited was the adrenaline. The need to take risks.”

He rubbed his mouth. “I’m not blaming you, I’m not. Falconieris are stubborn. Thick-headed, and that’s our boy all wrapped up, isn’t he? A stubborn moron who’s definitely addicted to something. Maybe it’s just the risk. Maybe it’s the danger. But maybe it’s the alcohol. ” He reached for her hand — limp, but warm.

“Maybe Jason’s got it right. Maybe I should shove the kid into therapy and figure out where he’s broken. But maybe I don’t need that question answered. He’s had nothing but trouble all his life. Kidnapped for the first six months of his life, I left for two years, came back wrong, and then just when I was getting my head together, he lost you. Maybe it’s not such a mystery. I just don’t know how I fix any of it.”

He squeezed her hand, then gently laid it back on the bed. “We miss you, Lu. If  you’re still in there, if there’s any part of you still with us, man, I wish you’d give us a sign.”

He waited — but there was nothing. Her vitals didn’t change — the machines didn’t make a noise. Her lashes didn’t flicker, no movement of her fingers.

He was on his own. Just like he had been for years.

Apartment Building: Lobby

Kristina stepped off the elevator, rummaging in her purse for the keys to her car and didn’t notice the building manager waiting by the entrance until she all but walked into him. “Oh.” She clenched her fingers around her keys, pressed them to her chest. “You scared me!”

“Sorry, Miss Corinthos,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose. She’d stopped correcting him ages ago about her name. “I just wanted you to know that I would never turn over any documents or files without a court order.”

Kristina furrowed her brow, then tipped her head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean? What documents? What files?”

“They asked me if you were here on September 2, and I didn’t remember. I thought about lying because I know that would help you,” the manager added, and Kristina’s breathing hitched. September 2. The day of the murder. “But I thought maybe that would make more problems. But I won’t let them see the security footage without a subpoena. I would never do that you, Miss Corinthos. You—you know that, right?” He licked his lips, nervously. “You make sure your dad knows that, too. I’m a company man. Loyal. I know the rules. Never cooperate with the police.”

A company man. Kristina pursed her lips. Of course. Her father owned the building — of course that meant the manager answered to him. No wonder he’d never bothered to learn her last name was Davis-Corinthos.

And the cops were looking at her? Dante was looking at her? Damn it. Damn it. Her keys dug into her palms, biting into her skin as she clenched her hand even more tightly.

“Of course. I know you’d never do anything to hurt my dad. And you don’t have to worry about lying. I’m on that footage, just like I told the cops.” With her free hand, she patted his arm and forced herself to smile. “Don’t worry about anything, Harry. You’re the best.”

She left the lobby, forcing to keep her smile pasted on her face, though anyone walking past her might hastily walk in the other direction.

The PCPD thought they were going to get her files, did they? They thought they’d investigate her? They would regret messing with her.

General Hospital: Fletcher’s Office

Danny slouched low in the chair, his arms folded, his legs sprawled, feet planted on the floor. It didn’t matter what this doctor said. He was gonna keep his mouth shut for the entire house, and when he got out of here, he’d make sure his dad knew they were done. That Danny was never going to trust him again. Lousy bastard.

The doctor had smiled at him, told him to sit down, and was now sitting across from him, a notepad on the little table next to him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Danny. I’m Dr. Fletcher.”

Danny jerked a shoulder, and grunted something.

“I understand you’re not happy about being here. Most of the kids I talk to don’t choose to be here,” the doctor added.

“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” Danny demanded. He straightened. “You think you’re gonna feed me a line about how it’s okay I don’t want to be here, and how you’re my friend, and that I can trust you, but it’s all bullshit. You’re bullshit, my dad’s bullshit, it’s just—” He closed his mouth, looked away.

“It’s not a line, Danny. And I’m not going to pretend to be your friend. I’m not.”

Danny frowned. “Then how are you gonna get me to talk to you if I don’t trust you?”

“I suppose we’ll have to find out. Let me start by telling you that what we talk about is private. Unless I think you’re in danger of hurting yourself or someone else. And I don’t think you are.” Fletcher lifted his brows. “Am I wrong?”

“Hurting like physically? No. That’s stupid.” Danny shifted, folded his arms again. “But it’s a lie that you won’t tell my dad anything. You already talked to him, and you’re supposed to talk to him again.”

“That’s true. If you decide to come back, I’ll be checking in regularly with the adults in your life. Not about details, nothing specifics. Just generalities. For example, if I told your father that you’re very angry at him, I don’t imagine that would come as a surprise, would it?”

“No,” Danny muttered. His lower lip trembled and he bit down hard. “And he knows why.”

“I have your father’s permission to share anything he tells me with you,” the doctor told him, and Danny looked at him now, the first stirrings of curiosity. “He’s not my patient. You are.”

“What did he tell you?” Danny asked, almost reluctantly.

“That he’s worried about you. You’ve picked up some habits that aren’t very good for you. He also feels like he hasn’t been a very good father to you. That he’s failed you.”

“My dad told you all that?” His dad never told anyone anything. Danny sat up, let his hands fall to the side. “Why did he do that?”

“Well, I could tell you what I think, but you know your father better than I do. Why do you think he did?”

“Because he feels guilty,” Danny muttered. “And he should. He’s an asshole. They all are.”

“All?” Fletcher inquired.

“Yeah. Dad and Liz made me think I could trust them and they went behind my back, and now Rocco hates me, okay? And my little sister is gonna end up in court just like me, because my mom’s a lunatic, and Dante’s angry at me, I guess, because it’s all my fault, and because Rocco’s an idiot, and Aiden and Jake are mad because I almost got their mom sent back to jail—” Danny’s voice faltered, and he looked down at his hands.

The room was quiet for a long beat, and then the doctor spoke again. “Why don’t we go back a step, Danny? Why don’t you tell me about your life before your dad came home? What did it look like? School, your friends, what you did for fun.”

“I was failing,” Danny muttered, then heaved a sigh. “I mean, not really, but my grades were trash. Eighth grade was harder than anything else, and Mom always wanted me to get, like, all As, you know? I’m supposed to be better than her, she always says that. She did stuff when she was younger. Crimes, I guess. Because she didn’t finish high school or go to college. She said I’m supposed to be better. Smarter. That I have to be.” He huffed. “And Jake always got all As. Didn’t matter what he was going through. Dad died, Jake made the honor roll. His step dad died, he made the honor roll. And he didn’t even care.”

“Jake’s your brother, right? And you’ve got a younger sibling?”

“Yeah. Scout.” Danny fidgeted. “And I got Rocco. We were supposed to be like stepbrothers, I guess. But we were best friends.”

“Is he your closest friend?”

“Yeah. And Aiden, Jake’s other brother. You know about all of that, right? Dad told you what happened last week. You know that we’re friends. Why are you asking?”

“I know how your father framed the situation. What I don’t know is how you see the people in your life,” Fletcher corrected. “I think parents often have a skewed vision of what’s going with your kids, especially as teenagers. Sometimes because they’re not paying attention, or sometimes because their kids are hiding pieces of themselves. Not because they want to lie — but maybe they don’t want their parents to see them.”

“I get that. I guess. Aiden’s gay, you know?” Danny said. “And he didn’t come out to his mom until last Christmas. He said he figured his mom would be cool with it, but maybe not. And he still hasn’t told his dad. Not that it matters. His dad isn’t around.”

“Exactly. There are a lot of reasons to keep pieces of yourself private. But it’s good to have someone to share those with. Another friend. It sounds like Aiden felt comfortable enough to tell you.”

“Oh, well, yeah. Kids were always calling him names,” Danny said. He shrugged. “And then I got big enough to shove them into lockers. So they stopped.”

“Would you consider Aiden and Rocco your best friends?”

Danny paused, then nodded. “I guess, yeah. At least until this week.” He shifted again. “Aiden and I are okay. For now. He thinks I’m being an asshole about what my dad did, but I’m not. Dad told me I could trust him, and I told him Rocco was still drinking, even after we got caught, and that I almost wanted to go with him and that was freaking me out because I got into so much trouble, and my mom walked out on me because of the drinking, and I almost did it anyway—” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he realized he was saying any of it. “And I told Dad I wanted to stop, that I wanted to get help, but he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about Rocco, and he did, and now Rocco hates me.” His cheeks were wet when he looked at the doctor. “You think I’m stupid, too, right? For being pissed that Dad tried to get Rocco caught, and that Elizabeth went along with it, and now I hate them.”

“I think,” Fletcher said, slowly, “that this is a good time to talk about who’s at home with you. Because it sounds like you  have a lot of thoughts about them. You were living with your mom until last weekend.”

“She won’t want me back now,” Danny muttered. “Not if it means Scout is gonna get hurt. It’s my fault. Scout’s gonna get dragged into court, and Drew’s going to be a dick about it, and Dante’s probably angry at me for not telling him, and I know he’s mad at my dad because Dad didn’t tell him. But if Dad had just kept his mouth shut—” He stopped. “But yeah, now I’m living with Dad and Elizabeth. For now.”

“For now?” the doctor echoed.

“Yeah. I mean, they’re not gonna want me around either. Dad’s already left once, right? He’ll do it eventually, and you think Elizabeth’s gonna put up with me? I got Aiden dragged into the PCPD and almost got her arrested, too.” He stopped. “But she wasn’t mad at me about that.”

“She wasn’t?”

“No.” Danny furrowed her brow. “I don’t get it. I don’t get why. I made a really big mess, and I was an asshole, and she was nice. This was her idea, you know. For me to talk to you. She got Dad on board, and he made my mom sign the papers.”

“But you think they don’t want you around?”

That made Danny pause, furrow his brows. “I guess maybe it’ll be okay. They shouldn’t have gone back behind my back to get Rocco caught. If they’d told me, maybe I would have helped, you know.”

“Why?”

“Because Rocco needs to stop. His grandfather was an alcoholic, my dad said, and Jake almost died in a car accident that his grandfather caused. And Dad said addiction’s, like, in our family, too. Maybe it’s fun and feels good, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. More than I already did.” Danny swiped at his face. “Maybe Dad was right to do something, but he should have told me. I would have helped.”

“Do you think you can ask him that question? Or is it something he wouldn’t answer?”

Danny paused. “I guess I could. Especially if Elizabeth is around. I always feel like I can talk to her, you know? And it makes it easier to talk to my dad.”

“It’s good to have someone in your life you can talk to. I hear that you care a lot about your friends and family, but maybe it feels like you’re carrying too much on your own shoulders.”

Danny’s throat felt tight and he dropped his eyes, jerking a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. The doctor continued, “Maybe this can be a place where you don’t have to do that all the time. What do you think?”

“I dunno. This didn’t really suck,” Danny muttered. “I guess I could come back.”

“In that case—” the doctor leaned forward, his eyes kind. “Here’s something I want you to think about. Pay attention this week — notice when you feel like the protector — and when you feel like you’re the one who needs protecting.”

November 15, 2025

Update Link: You’re Not Sorry – Part 48

My house is a cozy 72 degrees which it will be staying at for at least a week, lol. Normally, I leave it around 68 and use a space upstairs in the office when it gets a bit chilly, but I have been traumatized.

Now that I’m completely bounced back from whatever the hell last week’s ill ness was and I can feel my fingertips again, I’m anxious to get things back to normal — including writing Flash! I feel like between starting school, renovations, burned hands, death from illness and ice — we’ve been stuck in the same spot in this story FOREVER.

I’m updating today and tomorrow, and hoping I can commit to maybe a Wednesday update this week. See you tomorrow!

This entry is part 48 of 50 in the series Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 60 minutes.


Thursday, September 19, 2024

Miller & Diane: Office

Diane strode in to Spinelli’s office, a tablet in one hand and her reading glasses in the other. She flicked her eyes over the corkboard, then nodded in satisfaction. “Thank you, I appreciate you doing what we discussed.” Before the tech had a chance to respond, she donned her reading glasses and peered at the tablet. “Does the name Gia Campbell mean anything to you?”

Spinelli hesitated, then frowned and shook his head. “I’ve heard it before, but I wouldn’t say I know where or when. Why?”

“She’s been added as second chair for the government — she filed the response.”

Spinelli turned to his laptop, then keyed in a few strokes. “Gia Campbell works in the U.S. Attorney’s office, for the last decade — and prior to that—” He lifted his brows, looked at Diane. “There’s an article here about the model turned lawyer. She was the Face of Deception about twenty-five years ago.”

“She’s from Port Charles? Well, isn’t that interesting? And Deception, if I remember correctly—” Diane swiped from her PDF reader application to the browser on her app. “Yes, Laura Spencer was running the company at that time—and—will you look at that—” She turned the tablet to face him. “An article about the Face of Deception from 2001. But that’s not Gia.”

“That’s Elizabeth—” Spinelli began to type furiously. “I pulled up the archives for the Sun — there was a competition for the Face when Laura and — the Valkyrie? — they took over the company. They wanted to restart the company with a splash—” He continued to skim. “Gia and Elizabeth were the finalists — and there was some tabloid gossip because they were dating Laura’s sons.”

“Oh, this is very interesting.” Diane sank into the chair. “I had no idea Elizabeth ever worked as a model!”

“Short-lived. She won the competition, did one ad campaign, then quit. Gia took over and was successful until she retired to go to law school.” Spinelli turned his laptop around to reveal a photo of Elizabeth dressed in a strapless black dress and an up swept hair  style. “For lipstick.”

“Audrey Hepburn,” Diane murmured. She drew the laptop screen towards her. “Elizabeth beat Gia for this competition, and then this former model shows up two decades later prosecuting her? I find that fascinating.”

“And Gia Campbell doesn’t just know Elizabeth — she’s Taggert’s sister.”

Diane removed her reading glasses, her lips pursed again. “I could understand Reynolds turning to her for insight if she’s from Port Charles and if she knows the players. But putting her on as second chair when there’s a possibility of bad blood? He must know I could file one motion and have her removed.”

“What if Gia didn’t tell him?”

“That’s a possibility. A simple search would bring up the history, but perhaps he wouldn’t bother.” She tapped her lips with the folded glasses. “Or perhaps she’s keeping it to herself, hoping we won’t push the subject. Maybe she and Elizabeth ended on good terms, and she’s hoping to help her. I certainly don’t want to get rid of an ally.” Diane got to her feet. “Get me a complete work up on her. I want to know everything about her time in Port Charles and her career. I want to know more before I bring this up to Elizabeth.”

District Attorney Suite: Robert’s Office

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Chase said, shaking the hand Robert had extended to him. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“Well, I’m curious to see what you wanted from me that Molly couldn’t handle.” The older man gestured for Chase to take a seat. “She’s in charge of this case—”

“I know. And she’s doing a great job. It’s just—” Chase took a beat. “We have some suspects that we can’t eliminate — and Dante and I wanted to make sure we exhausted every possibility before we brought it to Molly.”

Robert took a seat, leaned forward. “Are these suspects related to Molly?”

“Yes. Kristina and Alexis.”

The district attorney was quiet for a long moment, his faded blue eyes locked on Chase. “Her mother and sister. And if I’m not remembering incorrectly, Dante’s sister.”

“Yes. Dante’s not happy about this either, but I’m handling that side of the case. We’ve done our best to make sure neither of us have direct contact with anyone we’re related to in this case, but it hasn’t been easy.”

“No, and I’ll be frank with you — if I had any one in this office or at the department that would be willing to take this on, Molly and the pair of you would not have been my first choice for handling the case.” Robert paused. “Talk to me about why they’re suspects and what does your gut tell you?”

“The motive is obvious, I would think. The victim was targeting Kristina for attempted murder charges in a federal case. Kristina was furious, and so was her mother. Neither of them have a good alibi for the time of the murder. I think Alexis probably would have been able to get Kristina’s charges dismissed, but Kristina might not have known that for sure.” Chase hesitated. “So we have motive. We have opportunity.”

“And a better motive than Elizabeth Webber,” Robert said. “For her to be guilty, you’d need a lot of people to be lying about alibis.” He nodded. “Anything else pointing to either of them?”

“For Alexis, she’s not a stranger to taking the life of someone who’s wronged her. She pleaded insanity to a murder when Kristina was an infant — Luis Alcazar. But before that, she sat back while Jason and Brenda Barrett were wrongly convicted and nearly sent to prison.”

Robert’s brows lifted. “That’s interesting.”

“I’m pulling more of that case file to get a better sense of it, but Kristina —” Chase paused. “Elizabeth’s security footage has her coming to the Webber house the day after the murder. I don’t know why she was there, but she came back to the door after Elizabeth left, and left again.”

“Putting her in the area during a time when someone might have planted a gun. I can see why you can’t eliminate her.” Robert stroked his chin. “Those are good facts. But what does your gut tell you?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m having trouble thinking the same woman that fell under the sway of a cult leader would be able to pull off a murder like this — and then frame an innocent woman.” Chase paused. “But that’s bias, because Willow was victim to that same cult and I know how strong she is. If I put that aside, honestly, Mr. Scorpio, I think Kristina or her mother or both of them did this. I can’t prove it yet, but there’s just something I can’t shake about it.”

Robert was quiet for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “I don’t get involved in my attorneys’ private lives, but I know that the loss of Molly’s daughter was devastating for her. And that there’s been tension with her sister because of it. I can commend Dante for not looking away from his sister as a suspect, but from here out, you’ll be the contact point for this line of investigation, reporting directly from me and keeping everything we learn confidential. Where can we start?”

“Subpoenas for security footage at Kristina’s apartment.” Chase paused. “And for any traffic cameras between her mother’s house, the Quartermaine estate, and her apartment building. I want to track her movements that day. And phone records. Whatever we can get without her knowing about it.”

“Let’s get started.”

Webber House: Living Room

“Hey, sorry to just show up like this,” Michael said as he passed Jason at the door, stopping when he saw Elizabeth on the sofa. “Or that I have to do this at all.”

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth got to her feet, and came over to join Jason by the door. “You never have to apologize for coming over, but you look upset.”

“That and pissed. I just don’t know who to be more angry at.” Michael dragged a hand through his hair. “I did what you suggested, you know,” he said to Jason. “I set up some extra cameras so we could track Rocco better on the estate. Willow saw me doing it, and I didn’t think any of telling her. I mean, I trust her. But she didn’t agree with what we decided to do—”

Jason exhaled slowly. “She told someone—”

“Drew overheard us arguing, and she told him. I tried to talk him out of doing anything, but all he cares about his damn reputation and this campaign. I don’t understand why Willow—but that’s my problem, and not yours. Drew said he was on his way to talk to Dante. Said he wanted to talk to him father to father.”

“Why would he do that? Didn’t you tell him we were trying to protect Danny’s trust?” Elizabeth demanded. “Drew should know better—”

“I told you. He can’t see anything but himself. I don’t know what the hell happened to him in prison or when he was kidnapped—” Michael’s expression was grim. “I tried to at least get Drew to say it wasn’t from Danny, but maybe that we just caught him or something—but he’s refusing to lie. Says Danny and Rocco are bad influences on each other, and maybe this will keep them from being near each other—”

“That’s not true!”

The cry from the stairs had all three adults turning to see Danny practically flying down the last few steps, with Aiden and Jake following — matching guilty expressions.

“You said you wouldn’t tell!” Danny’s face was flushed, his chest heaving. “Rocco’s never going talk to me again!”

“I’ll call Dante,” Jason started, digging in his jeans. “Maybe we can try to get to him before Drew can—”

“But why did you tell anyone?” Danny demanded. “I told you because you said I could trust you and that you wouldn’t say anything—”

“I couldn’t do nothing,” Jason said, but Danny wasn’t listening. He turned, and rushed back up the stairs, shoving Jake out of the way.

“I’ll talk to him,” Jake said, but then he paused at the base of the stairs, looked at their father. “It was an asshole move to lie to him even if you did the right thing. Just so you know.”

“Jake—” Elizabeth started but their son had already disappeared out of view and his footsteps were thudding towards the third floor, Aiden on his heels. She looked at Jason with worry.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were listening—” Michael started. He scrubbed both hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Michael, none of this is your fault,” Elizabeth said.

“It’s mine,” Jason said. “I should have told Danny I wanted to get Rocco caught.”

“We both signed off on trying to sneak it past him,” Elizabeth interrupted him. “I could have argued with you. I thought it was the easiest way for everyone. Danny was just starting to trust us.” She pressed two fingers against her lips. “We couldn’t do nothing.”

“But we should have been upfront what we were doing. I’m not sorry I did it. But I should have just gone to Dante,” Jason admitted. He focused on Michael. “But for now, let me get a hold of Dante and see if I can stop Drew from making everything seem worse.”

Penthouse: Living Room

Sam jolted off the sofa as soon as Dante came through the door. “Hey. I was hoping we could talk—”

“Can it wait?” Dante dumped his keys and jacket on the desk, rubbing his eyes. “It was a crappy day, and I just want a shower and a beer—”

“I mean, I just—” Sam bit her lip. “Yeah it can wait, I just—Danny sent me a text today.” She stared down at her phone. “He thanked me for signing the papers.”

“Oh.” Dante furrowed his brow. “That’s good news, isn’t it? He’s reaching out?”

“I thought so, and but if he’s thanking me, that means he knows I refused at first—” Her eyes glittered with tears when she met his gaze. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought he was being forced into this, but what if Jason was right? What if Danny really did want this, and I was standing in his way—”

“There was always that possibility—” Dante stopped at the rapid knocking on the door. He pulled it open, grimacing when he saw Drew on the other side. “What do you want?”

“Is Scout all right?” Sam demanded, coming to Dante’s side. “Where is she?”

“At home. Where she should be safe,” Drew bit out. “Except your son brought drugs onto the estate — and is still drinking and getting high.”

“What—” Dante began, but Drew was already glowering at Sam.

“And your son is still protecting him. What kind of mother are you? Don’t even bother to answer that question,” he added when Sam opened her mouth to protest. “I’ve already called my lawyer and filed for permanent custody.”

November 10, 2025

I HAVE HAD IT SWEAR TO GOD

(please note there is writing news & something to read — skip to the BACK TO THURSDAY part)

I was so looking forward to this four day weekend. I HAD PLANS.

And then I woke up on Thursday feeling not so great, but I thought, no, I’m really just very tired and cold from the lack of heating. Let’s bundle up near the space heater, watch some Stranger Things, and we’ll only lose a day. I wrote a little (more on that in a minute) and went to bed.

Friday, I woke up like death.

You guys, I got whatever is above a cold and below the flu. Some tortured head cold that kicked me flat, and all I could manage was a measly two hours a day on anything productive — which had to be the textbook notes for my chapter (the last one that needed to be created from scratch)

I was so useless I ended up taking a sick day today just to clear my system and finish up work because I had ZERO to teach the children–energy or materials.

I’m feeling sort of better now, but my GOD that was annoying. I really hate how my immune system is like let’s hold off on a cold until she has nothing to do. NOTHING TO DO WAS THE PLAN DAMN IT.

okay, anyway.

Obviously, going to be spending this week digging out of the whole being sick left me in, but we’re in the good part of the year — the first unit in all the classes is wrapping up, the worst part of the content creation is behind me, and everything left until holiday break is just plugging in holiday stuff to this year’s templates. My goal is to back on track with my NaNo project since I’ve written exactly 2ooo words.

Friday — we’ll get back on track with the schedule. Very sorry. This has been the school year from hell so far.

BACK TO THURSDAY

A year ago, I got out of writing slump by playing with a fantasy world in flash fic — I realized pretty quick that I hadn’t done nearly enough world building, so I took it down to rework. And for a year, I’ve really done nothing but world build and plan out the big picture, stealing an hour here and there when I was bored with a project.

Thursday, I was just so annoyed with everything, I was like — let me just see if I can write anything that isn’t butt awful.

And I wrote about 1500 words that I liked. On Saturday, I started to feel a little bit human and I wrote another 1400.

I’m not switching projects or anything — the NaNo goal is the serial killer edit, and I’m excited to get into Act 1 but I shared the new stuff with the Patreon Stalker tier last week, and as a peace offering, I wanted to share with you guys.

sooo … a little bit about the story, how I’m thinking about publication/writing time

Isereth’s Prophecy is a romantic fantasy saga that will be written like a limited series — a collection of episodes released every few months once I get going — I’m thinking 6-8 episodes. I’ve written about 25% of episode 1 in 2 sessions (or at least what I’m considering episode 1). And yes, Stranger Things absolutely has influenced me, lol.

The writing plan goes a little like this, barring catastrophes

  • Nov & Dec – Out of the Woods novel / You’re Not Sorry  flash fic
  • Jan & Feb – These Small Hours, Book 3  /  You’re Not Sorry  flash fic
  • Mar & Apr – Isereth’s Prophecy 1: Wyrfall / flashfic
  • May & June – FMT, Book 3 / flashfic
  • Jul & Aug – Isereth 2, FMT Book 3 / flashfic

And now my peace offering: Isereth’s Prophecy 1 – Shadwell (“First 15 minutes”)

See you on Friday!

November 1, 2025

Update: You’re Not Sorry – Part 47

I am soooo done with this year.

Just after my hand starts to heal (we’re in the new skin growing phase which is less disgusting then the active burn blister phase), and I can switch to a small bandage, I come home on Wednesday, and my heater won’t turn on. We have someone come out, and of course, my 32-year-old heater has decided to kick the bucket. (I am as angry as you are that 1993 was apparently 32 years ago, because WHAT). So new one can’t be installed until Nov 14. And now my electric bill is going to double so I can pay off the new unit in installments.

I’m fine, it’s fine. I’m bundled up in my Showgirl cardigan (which looks like a smart investment after all) with my space heater because why not.

ANYWAY.

Let’s focus on some good things.

It’s November! I survived the two month gauntlet of September-October with only one vacation day built in. This part of the year sucks every year, but the remodeling, then burn of my hand, and my cousin’s disappearing cat really made it a special hellfire (and prepping 3 classes, and new freshmen who think directions are for decorations if i hear 6,7 one more time im gonna crash out) —

Two four day weekends coming up, plus a professional day on Monday which means this next week, I only have TWO days I have to spend with the gremlins. And this is the first day off where my house isn’t under construction.

I’m starting my own NaNoWriMo, working on the edit/rewrite of my Flash Fiction series, Watch Me Burn. If you’re on Patreon, I’m posting those scenes as I wrote them for the Stalker tier.

I should be back tomorrow to update more.

This entry is part 47 of 50 in the series Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 72 minutes. I didn’t really love how this part came out, and had to rework some of it, so it’s both shorter and late, lol. But it’s done, and it was necessary to move the story forward.


Thursday, September 19, 2024

Quartermaine House: Living Room

Willow folded her arms, hugging her upper torso and biting her lip. “I don’t really know how I feel about any of this,” she admitted, watching Michael skim through a video on his phone. “You’re spying on him—”

“I’m watching security footage,” Michael interrupted. He slid the phone in his pocket. “We don’t have a choice—”

“Yes, we do. We tell Dante what we know—”

“And how do I explain how we know?” Michael wanted to know. “Danny trusted Jason—”

“Jason’s an adult, Danny’s a child. A child who’s acting out and using emotional manipulation to get his way.”

Michael pressed his lips together. “I’d think you understand how important trust is. We’re  going to catch Rocco in the act so he can’t pretend Danny’s lying.”

“And what if we don’t catch him right away?” Willow wanted to know, following her husband into the foyer. “What if he gets into real trouble this way?”

“He’s not popping pills or snorting cocaine. He’s getting high or drunk. If he does it on the property—”

“Who’s getting high and drunk?” Drew demanded, striding into the foyer from a back hallway. Michael grimaced, and made a face at Willow.

But she either didn’t see it or didn’t care. “Rocco. Danny says he still has some stash on the property. Michael’s watching security footage to catch him in the act—”

“So he can end up in the papers? Oh, that’ll be great. Just the kind of headline or viral story I need,” Drew muttered, shoving his fingers through his hair. “We can’t have this.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “Who’s we? This has nothing to do with you. I’m handling it, and we’ll keep it in the family—”

“It’s bad enough Jake and Danny are being dragged through this, thanks to Elizabeth’s blind loyalty to my useless brother. If she’d just tell the truth—”

“She is telling the truth,” Michael retorted. “She was with me the day of the shooting, and Jason was with Grandmother.”

“Yeah, because no one in this family has ever lied before,” Drew said, with a roll of his eyes. “This is a disaster waiting to happen, and Dante needs to handle his son somewhere else. We’re not a refuge for hoodlums.” He whipped out his cell phone and headed into the foyer.

“Thanks. That was just great, Willow.” He scowled at his wife. “I told you what was going on in confidence—”

“He lives here, too, Michael. And he’s not wrong! If a teenager is doing drugs on the property, it’ll look really bad for him—”

“Then he can move out and be someone else’s problem. I’m sick of everything in his life being about optics—”

“Michael, be reasonable. Rocco’s a teenager who’s getting himself into more trouble if we don’t make sure we get him some help.” Willow approached him, tried to rub his shoulder but Michael shook her off.

“I told you something in confidence because you used to work with kids and because you’re my wife. Because I don’t want any secrets between us. But the first chance you had, you dump the truth on the worst possible person in this house—other than maybe Olivia.”

Willow’s eyes shimmered with tears. “I was just trying to do the right thing. Drew’s right. Rocco needs more help—”

“Don’t. Don’t pretend Drew gives a damn about Rocco. Just—I have to find a way to fix this. But the next time you complain that I’m not telling you everything, I want you to remember this moment.”

General Hospital: Fletcher’s Office

Who is Elizabeth to you and to Danny?

Jason cleared his throat, and shifted slightly. Not the easiest question to answer — or one that could be summed up in a few words. “You mean, factually?”

“We can start there.” Fletcher’s smile looked a bit more genuine now. “I’m not trying to pry for gossip, Mr. Morgan. I want to understand the adults in Danny’s life. How they affect him. If Elizabeth is in his life daily, it stands that she plays some sort of role.”

“Oh. Well—” Jason let out a breath. “She made the appointment, you know that. And I think it was her idea. She—she has a way of talking to him, you know? Sometimes I get tangled up or he gets too defensive, and we just yell. But Elizabeth’s an amazing mother, and she just…always has the right words.” And it sometimes felt like he couldn’t string together two coherent statements when he was with his sons.

“So she’s someone Danny can talk to.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean, that’s definitely been true the last few days.”

Fletcher made a note. “Danny’s been staying with you and Elizabeth. And there are other children in the home?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Full-time, there’s Aiden and Jake. Jake’s—he’s my son. And Elizabeth’s. He’s seventeenth. And at his mom’s, there was Rocco, Dante’s son, and Scout, Sam’s daughter with…” Jason paused. “My brother.”

There was just a slightly lift of the brows at that, but Fletcher didn’t say anything, just made a few more notes.

“I already know that Danny was brought into the police station with Aiden and Rocco. How’s his relationship with Jake and his sister?”

“He’s protective of Scout, I think. I haven’t seen them together much, but I know they’re close. With Jake—” Jason paused. “They’re close. They argue a lot, and I know it’s hard on them that Danny’s mother…doesn’t like Elizabeth. There’s been tension there.”

“That brings me to my next question.” Fletcher looked at him. “Do you and his mother make decisions about Danny together? Or separately? Through a mediator?”

“Threats mostly. Legally speaking,” Jason added. He pushed himself to his feet, unable to remain seated anymore, and went towards the window overlooking the parking lot. “Sam’s had to carry a lot of the weight raising Danny on her own, and she’s a good mother. I’ve defaulted to her decisions most of the time. Until the last few weeks.”

“She’s not here today.”

“No, she’s not. She doesn’t want Danny to do this. I don’t know if it’s because it was Elizabeth’s idea or because she genuinely doesn’t want Danny in therapy. But Danny wants to do it, and I think he needs more than I can give him.” Jason turned back to face the doctor. “I filed for full custody of him and the right to make medical decisions. His mother backed down, and signed the consent form, but she still didn’t want to come today.”

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

“This is supposed to be your day off,” Felix complained when Elizabeth approached him at the counter. “Do you not understand how to relax?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Hi, hello, how are you are also options,” she said pointedly.

“Fine, fine. How are you? But I still want to know why you’re here.”

“Did I imagine the voicemail you left me two days ago saying we needed to catch up?” Elizabeth folded her arms, leaned over the counter. “Because I thought you’d want to know that Jason and I are living together, but if you want me to go—” She started to step back but Felix reached out, snagged her arm.

“Who said that? Not me. Spill. When did this happen? How did it happen? And don’t leave out a single detail.”

“Well, the when is technically the day before I was arrested,” Elizabeth said. “And also last Friday. And this morning.”

“This morning?” Felix wiggled his brows. “I stand corrected. So you do know how to relax.” He furrowed his brow. “But wait, you’re living together? Already? I feel like I missed a few chapters. Let me take my break, and we’ll get a coffee. I want to hear everything.”

PCPD: Conference Room

Dante watched in silence as Chase pinned the freeze frame of Ava and Trina at the Jerome Gallery with the timestamp at the bottom of the screen. Unless Ava had super powers, she couldn’t have made it to and from the Quartermaines and still been with Trina at 7:40 PM that night.

“Our suspect list is getting smaller and smaller,” Dante murmured. He folded his arms, then looked at Chase. “Did we hear from Kristina’s apartment manager?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t remember the day, but wouldn’t have seen her anyway.” Chase paused. “He says he hasn’t seen her much, since I guess she’s been staying with her mom.”

“What about security footage?” When Chase looked away, Dante sighed. “She’s not on it.”

“I don’t know if she is. The building’s owned by Sonny, which means—”

“Standing order not to cooperate and require warrants and subpoenas.” Dante rubbed his face. “And the only way we can subpoena that footage is if we tell Molly who will want to know why.”

“We could that, sure. Or we could go to Robert.” Chase hesitated. “Both options suck. But we have to pick one.”

“Yeah. I know.” Dante looked at the whiteboard, at the photo of his sister staring back at him. “You’ll have to take the meeting with him. My hands can’t be on that part of the investigation.”

“Understood. I’ll handle it. It’s going to turn into nothing, Dante. I’m sure of it. We’ll both feel better when we can cross this off.”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

General Hospital: Fletcher’s Office

The doctor opened the door for Jason and they walked into the front of the office suite together. “I can’t promise miracles,” Fletcher told Jason. “And you might get frustrated by not knowing anything, but I can only keep you updated on general progress. Without Danny’s consent or imminent danger of harm, my meetings with your son will be confidential.”

“I can live with that,” Jason told him. “I just want Danny to be okay. If this helps him get there, that’s all that matters.

Fletcher held out his hand. “I’ll see Danny tomorrow then.”

Jason shook his hand. “Thank you.” He glanced around the room and didn’t see Elizabeth. She’d mentioned she might go check in with Felix while he was in the meeting, so she’d probably gotten caught up.

When he emerged from the office suite into the hallway, Elizabeth and Felix were turning the corner, both with coffee in their hand, stamped with the GH logo.

“Oh, hey, that’s good timing.” Elizabeth crossed to join him, reaching out with her free hand. He squeezed it. “Felix and I were just catching up.”

“Let’s not wait three months again,” Felix told Elizabeth, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Texts are not enough. We work in the same building—”

“I know, I know. I’ve been awful. You’re amazing for putting up with me.”

“I’d better get back to work.” Felix held out his hand to Jason. “Good to see you, Jason.” When Jason took the other man’s hand, he was a bit surprised when the nurse put a little strength behind the grip, tightening it. “You take care of her now.”

“I can take care of myself,” Elizabeth said, wrinkling her nose. “Felix—”

“She has terrible taste in men,” Felix said, ignoring her. “I warned her about the last two, don’t make me regret giving her the green light on this one.”

“Ah, you won’t,” Jason said, a bit mystified but somewhat grateful. “I didn’t like the last two either.”

“See, I told you I liked him.” Felix released Jason’s hand, then kissed Elizabeth’s cheek again. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Honestly, you’d think we were in high school,” Elizabeth muttered, watching her friend disappear around the corner. “I don’t need him to approve of anything—” She turned back to Jason. “Anyway. How did it go?”

“Okay, I think.” They turned towards the elevators, and he kept his hand in hers. “But I guess we’ll find out when Danny gets to talk to him.” When they stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed, Jason tugged her a little closer to him. “We have a little time before the boys are supposed to get home from school. We could take the bike out — it’s the first time it hasn’t rained in a few days.”

“That sounds like the best idea.”