Written in 60 minutes.

Thursday, October 3, 2024

General Hospital: ICU Hallway

“Taking a break?”

Alexis turned, frowned slightly when she saw Sonny striding towards her, his coat over one arm, and a disposable cup holder in the other hand, two cups emblazoned with his coffee logo tucked inside. “What?”

“You’re out here, I thought you’d be in with Kristina.” Sonny held out the tray, then peered over Alexis’s shoulder to see their daughter still lying prone in her hospital bed, the tube of her ventilator snaking across the hospital bed.

“I can’t sit still. Probably the caffeine—” The liquid scalded her tongue, but Alexis drank it anyway, grateful for any feeling in her body. She’d been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and by now was fueled by little more than anxious worry. “It’s nearly ten, someone should have an update. Dante or Michael should have called—you know what? You need to go rent a helicopter and I’ll find my daughter damn it—”

“Okay.” Sonny set his things on the small sofa that was tucked in the corner, then put his hands in mock surrender. “I can see that the plan to ignore all of that until we knew something—”

“Ignore all of that? That? You mean my daughter caught in a flash flood and missing, presumed dead?” Alexis hissed. “That was your plan?”

Sonny exhaled slowly, the corners of his mouth drooping slightly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeated when she shot him a nasty look. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. We can’t go out there and help, I can barely get Dante on the phone, I’m avoiding Jason, you’re avoiding Diane—I don’t have any answers.”

Alexis sat down on the sofa, hunched over, her arms crossd in her lap as she rocked back and forth. “I can’t sit next to her, Sonny. I can’t sit next to our daughter, waiting for her to wake up when the reason she and Sam were in that car was because I didn’t believe Sam. I didn’t—” She closed her eyes. “And I can’t begin to think about Molly because I’ve been completely absent to what she needed — it’s falling apart. Everything. And I started it.”

“Alexis—” Sonny sat next to her, touched her shoulder. “No—”

“I started it,” Alexis murmured. “When Kristina wanted me to draw up custody papers, and I didn’t tell her no. I argued, but I gave in. I always give in. That was the first domino.”

“I went after Ava for custody, didn’t I?” Sonny reminded her. “Is Kristina even in that room if I don’t do that? If that little girl makes it—” He rubbed his mouth. “But it’s not a game of dominos, Alexis. We all played a role in what happened, but it’s not as simple as pulling out one part and changing it all—”

“I just want that moment back. I want it back. I want to shake Kristina the first time she calls that baby Adela, and I want to shake Sam until her teeth rattles when she started playing games with Danny’s custody — if I had been a better mother—”

“And if I’d told them about the gun weeks ago?” Sonny asked quietly. Alexis looked at him, her eyes bloodshot. “If I’d handled Ava a decade ago when she killed Connie like I should I have. Do we sit here and keep making a list of all the ways we missed the signs?”

“What else is there? Wait for Kristina to wake up so we can demand answers, wait for someone to come through those doors and tell me they’ve found my daughter’s body—” Her voice broke and she dipped her head down. “What else can I do but retrace every horrible step that brought me here?”

Sonny started to answer, but the phone in his discarded jacket vibrated. He reached for it, and accepted the call from Michael, Alexis’s head snapping up when he greeted his son. “Hey. Do you got something?”

“Yeah. We’re, uh, on our way to Elizabeth’s to meet Jason there. Dad, they found Sam’s car about thirty minutes ago. It was snagged under a bridge with some other debris.” There was a heavy pause. “It took some time, but they…they got a look inside. She’s in there.”

Sonny closed his eyes, and Alexis pressed her fists to her mouth. “She didn’t make it, did she?”

“No. She didn’t.”

He’d known, of course, the possibility of finding her was slim, almost zero. She’d been trapped, the car had been swept away — injuries in the accident, dark, debris filled waters — the odds had been against her, but the odds had been against him, hadn’t they? And Sonny had found himself alive in Nixon Falls.

But a body changed the hope. Sam wouldn’t return in days, weeks, months, or years. Her story had ended that night, on a dark and stormy night, behind the wheel of the car — and, if the evidence was correct, at the hands of the sister Sam had spent most of her life protecting.

“When—when are they—”

“They have to do a few things before they can recover her, but it’s—it’s happening. We’re telling Danny. Drew is going to tell Scout. I don’t know what Alexis wants to do.”

“I don’t know either,” Sonny said, taking Alexis’s hand, holding it tight, tears falling quietly down her cheeks. “I’ll call you back.” He set the phone aside, then looked at her. “They’re telling Danny. Drew is handling Scout. They’re recovering the…they’re going to get her out of the car, but it’ll take some time before we know what happened. How it happened.”

Alexis closed her eyes, squeezed tight bit down hard, and Sonny just waited. Then she opened her eyes, exhaled a long, shaky breath. “I should be with Scout. Danny has support. He has his brother, but Scout—she doesn’t—she needs me. I need to see her. I need to see them both. I can’t—” She stopped. “You should stay here in case Kristina wakes up—”

“I—” Sonny stopped what he was about to say when he saw a familiar figure turn down the hallway. He got to his feet. “You’ve got no business here—”

Caldwell, flanked by Anna and Gia, stopped a few feet away. “You don’t make—”

Gia put a hand up to stop the abrasive agent from continuing to speak. “I’m here on behalf  of the FBI and the U.S. Attorney’s office. We’re filing federal charges against your daughter.”

“And we’ll be filing locally,” Anna said coolly when Gia flicked her an irritating glance.

“What’s changed since last night?” Sonny said, and Anna held out a manila folder. He snatched it from her, flipped it open, then his face drained of emotion. Wordlessly, he handed the folder to Alexis, who glanced down, and sighed at the security footage of Kristina standing by a car, a metal box in her hand. “Elizabeth’s car,” she said, lifting her eyes to Gia. “I presume?”

“Yes. Kristina Corinthos-Davis is under arrest, charged with aiding and abetting the murder of a federal agent.”

“Aiding?” Sonny retorted. “What the hell—”

“Well, I’m arresting her for the murder, but I suppose the FBI will have to catch up with what we already know—”

“Don’t you have an international fugitive to sleep with?” Caldwell demanded. Anna scowled at him.

“I don’t have the time and energy for whatever the hell this is,” Alexis snapped. She looked at Sonny. “Handle this. Get her a lawyer. I don’t give a damn. I have somewhere else to be.” She slapped the folder at Sonny and stalked off.

“This couldn’t have waited?” Sonny asked. “Even an hour? I expected better of you, Anna. You know that we just found out Sam’s body was just found. Or are you even more incompetent than I thought?”

Gia pursed her lips, looked oddly at the commissioner. “What?”

“The accident,” Anna said, keeping her tone even. “The suspect’s sister was missing, presumed dead. It wasn’t pertinent to the case, and well, I assumed it was only a matter of time, Sonny, before you got your wits about you and we lost our chance to secure Kristina’s custody.”

“Yeah, you know all about absconding from justice and evading arrest, don’t ya, Anna?” Sonny smiled, his teeth slightly bared. “Your time is coming, you know.”

“Right after yours, I’m sure.”

“Are we done with the games?” Gia demanded. “Caldwell, put a guard on the door and read the suspect her rights as soon as she’s conscious. Sonny—”

“Oh, we’re done pretending you don’t know any of us?” Sonny retorted. “How’s your boss like it that you and Elizabeth were enemies back in the day?”

Gia tipped her head to the side, her lips curved in a smile. She didn’t answer him right away, and the silence sent a chill down his spine. “That might have worried me yesterday, but I spent all night pouring over this case file. Over the Pikeman investigation. I have everything I need to make sure I come out smelling like a daisy. Can’t say the same for your daughter.” She looked towards the door, then back to Sonny. “When did you suspect her, Sonny? Before or after Elizabeth was put in federal custody, strip searched, and kept from her kids?”

Sonny furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Elizabeth’s defense team secured this footage, Sonny, but I spent the night looking at all the files John Cates put together. Verifying the information, of course, because well, he wasn’t entirely above board.” Gia took a step towards him. “He had surveillance on the restaurant, did you know that? A warrant for inside and out. Cameras. He didn’t tell anyone that. He and Reynolds kept that to themselves all this time.”

Sonny lifted his chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“No? You didn’t look in the folder. The charges we’re filing are preliminary, Sonny. I’m going to upgrade them to murder in the next few days. Because I’ve got your little girl on camera taking the gun from your safe. And I’ve got you looking for that gun twenty-four hours after Cates was killed.” She smirked. “I’ve got your daughter on first degree murder, Sonny. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Should have covered up for her sooner.”

Webber House: Living Room

He knew, of course. Before his father even opened his mouth, Danny knew.

He sat on the sofa, staring hard at the wood grain pattern on the coffee table, words slipping in and out, no real awareness of how they fit together. Recovery, hours, quick…

When he heard nothing, when he realized there was no more sounds, no more voices, he lifted his head to find his father sitting next to him, and he had to look away quickly — because the pain in his father’s eyes hit like a laser, searing his flesh, the grief bubbling up in his throat, and Danny could get through this if he just didn’t look at anyone.

“When—” He stopped, surprised by the crack in his voice, the effort it took to start again. “When will we know?”

Jason frowned, tilted his head. “Know?” he echoed.

“If she…” Danny licked his lips. “If it hurt.”

“Danny, man—” Jake sat on his other side, a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You can’t think like that—”

“I just wanna know if she knew. Or if it was quick. Or if we had a chance. If I’d answered the phone—” He looked his father, averting his eyes quickly again. “I didn’t. I didn’t pick up the first time, but maybe if I had—”

“I don’t know if it would have helped,” Jason told him gently. “And your mother wouldn’t want you to think about that—”

“Well, we don’t know that, do we?” Danny said, lunging to his feet. “We don’t know anything, because she’s dead!”

He darted for the stairs, and Jason slowly rose, looking after him with tired eyes. Behind the sofa, standing in front of the book shelf, Elizabeth met his eyes, her own filled with worry. “I can call Fletcher. Get him into see Danny as soon as possible.”

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s—” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah, okay.”

As she reached for her phone, it rang, startling all of them. She answered it, turning away to begin the conversation.

“I don’t know if there was any way to tell him without it going bad,” Jake said, trying to lift his father’s spirits. “There’s not really much we can say to make it better, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Jason stopped, cutting off whatever he was going to say next as Elizabeth came back over, her phone clutched against her chest. “What is it?”

“Diane. She—she sent the report over like we talked about, but apparently it was—it was extra. Because the FBI had something else. They’ve put a guard on her room and they’re putting her under arrest—”

“What?” Jake asked. “What does that mean? What’s going on?”

“Are they dropping the charges?” Jason demanded.

“Not yet. It’s—it’s complicated. But it’s…” Elizabeth looked at their son. “They know who put the gun in my trunk, Jake. They have proof now. It was Sam’s sister.”

“Kristina?” Jake said, bewildered. “She framed you? Wasn’t she the one who got brainwashed into a cult? Didn’t you save her from that?” he asked his father. “Why did she want to hurt Mom?”

“I don’t know, but I guess we’ll find out when she wakes up.”

+22

Written in 51 minutes.

Thursday, October 3, 2024

Port Charles Temporary FBI Offices

For the first time in days, the skies over Port Charles were blue, the remnants of the tropical storm had finally moved out of the region, tormenting Ontario to their north or just fading out of memory altogether, but relentless downpour had left temporary scars across the city making Gia Campbell’s trip even more frustrating as she navigated road closures and detours until she was able to reach her destination.

At her entrance, Caldwell straightened from his position leaning over a different agent, his expression stone-faced. “Reynolds said you’d stepped back from the case—”

“Noah Reynolds is going to be lucky to keep his job by the time this case is over,” Gia said flatly. “If you don’t want to be on the chopping block right along side him, I suggest you listen to what I have to say.”

Caldwell exchanged a glance with the agent he’d been speaking with, then nodded towards the nearby conference room. “All right. You’ve got my attention.”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Chase lifted his brows when he saw who was waiting for him by the front door. “I thought you’d still be at the hospital — or with Danny—”

Molly folded her arms, shook her head. “I can’t.” When Chase just looked quizzical, she let out a low huff. “I can’t look at my mother right now, and if Kristina were to wake up — well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be friendly. And Danny—” Her throat tightened. “I can’t look at him right now. Not when he might still think there’s a chance his mother might come home.”

“There’s always—”

“Chase.” Molly closed her eyes. “Don’t. You were at the scene last night. You said yourself the car was gone. And Sam—we should have found her by now. It’s nearly nine in the morning—I’m not here to debate that—” She opened her eyes, focused on him again. “I need to know where you are in the case. And if there’s a chance we can make sure Kristina doesn’t get away with causing that accident.”

“Molly, why don’t you sit down—take a minute—”

“I can’t. I can’t. You were following them, you said so yourself. The car swerved of the road, and Spinelli said it sounded like Kristina found the phone. If Kristina tried to grab the wheel or distracted Sam  while she was driving, she’s responsible. Reckless endangerment—Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped, holding up a finger when Chase’s expression softened. “I’m not crazy. We need to find something to charge her with. Everyone knows what you were doing there. Sonny is going to have her on the first plane—”

“We don’t have a lot to work with. Anything could have happened in that car—”

“But you can charge her—”

“That’s a question for Robert,” Chase told her, and Molly sighed. “All I can tell you is that we don’t have more evidence than we did last night. Everything we know is circumstantial. Our techs are looking at footage around Elizabeth’s house, Spinelli is looking at the same things right now. We also subpoenaed Kristina’s cell phone records, and we’re going to try to get your sister’s too. We’re circling the wagons—”

“Yeah, well, it won’t be a lot of help if she’s lifted out of trouble just like she always is. Sonny will find a way to make this someone else’s fault. My mother will make excuses, and Kristina will get away with it—”

“All I can do is follow the law and where the evidence takes me. I get why you don’t want to be with your mother right now, but Danny and Scout are going to need you—”

Molly’s eyes shifted and she looked towards the stairs. “Scout. Where is she?”

“Drew’s keeping her at home today — Scout doesn’t know yet. She’s still asleep. And he didn’t want to say anything until they knew for sure. Danny’s probably coming out of his skin. He knows too much, and he’ll have questions. You should be with him.”

Miller & Davis: Diane’s Office

It had scarcely been twenty-four hours since she’d learned Kristina might be the real killer, and while Elizabeth had trusted Spinelli and Diane’s convictions, she realized there was part of her that was sure, somehow, there’d be an explanation. A reason for all the things they’d learned.

She stood in Diane’s office, staring at the television screen as security footage played across four quadrants — Spinelli had organized four views from three of her neighbors and Elizabeth’s own — syncing up the time, depicting the day the horror had begun.

Kristina walked out of Elizabeth’s house, went to her car, and pulled away. Then a few minutes, Jason’s motorcycle parked at the curb, and Elizabeth came out her door, turned the lock to check it, and then left with him.

Then — Kristina returned, parking behind Elizabeth’s car. The trunk opened, she put the metal box inside, and then disappeared out of view, until she returned on Elizabeth’s camera, stooping down at the door, then leaving.

“I rewatched the footage for the rest of that day,” Spinelli said, and she looked at him. “Aiden came home, and just before the door closes and we lose him, he bends down. I don’t know for sure — but I think he might have picked up your key fob. I think Kristina dropped it at the door.”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Jason said roughly, and Elizabeth looked at him, her whole body physically aching for him. What was it like to watch the young woman he’d protected her whole life repay him with betrayal? Had Kristina intended for Elizabeth to be the target? Or for the FBI to go straight for Jason? After all, the false tip had tied Jason to the crime as well.

“Spinelli has put together this exhibit, but we also have prepared a report of the raw footage,” Diane said. “It ties Kristina to the gun, and we have the tech reports — Elizabeth never opened that trunk again. It’s the only trunk pop after the murder. Their case is dead. The gun is the only link and they cannot put it in Elizabeth’s hands or tie her to knowledge that it even existed.”

There should have been relief, a sweet sense of victory, or just something at those words, but the last month of her life — of all their lives — had been so draining that Elizabeth didn’t know what to feel. And to get this news today of all days when they were waiting for even more grave news to arrive — she just looked at Jason, reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m so sorry.” Then to Diane, who appeared to have aged a decade overnight. “To both of you. I know how long you’ve known her. How much you’ve cared and looked after her.”

Then to Spinelli, who never looked less like the silly boy with his nicknames he’d been when they met, as he stood by the monitor, staring at the results of his long, sleepless night. She didn’t know what to say to him, to any of them beyond what she’d already expressed. “What’s next? What are you doing with the report?”

“We’ll send a copy to Chase and the PCPD, and then to Agent Caldwell and Reynolds. I’ve appealed my motion to exclude the gun with a request to dismiss the charges. What happens next largely depends on them. They might immediately drop the charges — I expect Robert will file charges locally.”

“You don’t seem convinced that will happen,” Jason said, getting to his feet. “Do you think the FBI will ignore this?”

“Not ignore. Explain it away. It seems clear to me you were always their target,” Diane told him. “And everything they’ve done to Elizabeth and the boys was a means to turn them against you, to testify to your knowledge. They may just shift their theory of the crime — Kristina was helping you, and framing Elizabeth to throw off the scent from you both. It’s not going to work, a jury would never believe it. I think a judge will dismiss Elizabeth’s charges, but they might come after you next, Jason.”

“That’s fine,” Jason said, and Elizabeth made a face. “I’d rather they do that,” Jason told her with a shake of his head. “They can’t convict me any more than they could convict you. But you deserve to have your name cleared.”

“Kristina’s made it clear she doesn’t care about the truth. She could turn state’s witness, pretend you gave her the gun to get rid of—”

“She could,” Jason admitted. “But I’m prepared to deal with that. You have what you need to get the case against Elizabeth dismissed,” he told Diane. “Do what you have to do. We’ll face what happens next.”

“Keep us in the loop. We’ll be sticking close to home,” Elizabeth said. “We should—” She stopped when she heard the ring of Jason’s phone. He fished it from his pocket. “It’s Michael.”

Belle Forest Drive: Command Center

Michael put his phone back in his pocket, then made his way over to Dante, still standing in the same place, in the same position he’d been when the lieutenant from the rescue squad had given him the news. “Jason’s on his way back to the house. He was with Diane at the office. I told him we’d meet him there.”

“You should go. They—they might still need me—”

“Dante.”

His brother turned to look at him, his dark eyes glimmering with unshed tears, his mouth bracketed with lines, the day’s growth of stubble telling the story of the exhaustion he must feel. “I should be here when they get her out—”

“It will take hours,” Michael said gently. “They have to stabilize the car before they can send out divers. And you know Sam wouldn’t want it this way. She wouldn’t want you here. She’d want you with Danny. Drew and Willow are at the house. They’re going to tell Scout, and I think the kids are going to need all of us to get them through it.”

“Do you think she knew?” Dante asked, his voice rough. “Could she feel the car moving, but she couldn’t get to the surface? Was she still alive when it got stuck at that damn bridge? And she just couldn’t get out? Or was she already gone? Did she—” He faltered, bent over at the knees, bracing his hands on his thighs. “There’s almost no worse way to go. She would have fought so hard to get out. She would have known she was going to die—”

“We might never know the answers to that,” Michael said. “And maybe it won’t bring us comfort now, but knowing how bad things with Danny were — she was able to talk to him one more time, Dante. And she died knowing he still loved her. It’s not enough,” he added when Dante straightened, looked at him. “It won’t ever be enough. But it’s something to hold on to. He’s going to blame himself, you know that. Sam wouldn’t want that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. Okay. Okay.” Dante scrubbed his face, dragging his hands back and forth, forcing color back into his skin. “Okay. You’re right. I need to be the one to tell Danny. I need to—I need to be with him. And then the kids need to be together. We need to make sure they have each other.”

+32

Written in 62 minutes.

Thursday, October 3, 2024

Miller & Davis: Lobby

The sun had just begun to peek over horizon when Maxie knocked on the glass door of the law offices. The security guard on the night shift sat behind a desk, scrolling lazily on his phone, glancing up when he saw her there. He made a face, then got to his feet, lumbered over. “Not open until nine,” he told her, the words muffled behind the glass door.

Maxie flicked through her phone, then held up a photo of herself and Spinelli. “He’s here, isn’t he? Let me in. I’m his—” She grimaced. “Partner.” Because girlfriend seemed too silly. And honestly, how could he work here and not know who she was?

The guard rolled his eyes, but then punched something into the pad beside the door, then unlocked and pulled it open. “He’s in the back. Next time, have him tell me you’re coming.”

“He doesn’t know,” Maxie said, sliding her phone back in her tote, then started down the hallway leading to the support offices. She knew exactly where to find Spinelli, and would have even if the app on the phone hadn’t told her.

The office he’d been assigned was towards the back, near Diane’s office, the door open just enough for a sliver of light to fall onto the carpet. Maxie pushed it open and found her target scrunched over a desk, skimming through papers, then looking at his computer screen. “Spinelli.”

He jolted at her words — which meant he hadn’t heard her approach or noticed her standing in the doorway. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his disheveled hair standing on end from running his hands through it over and over, his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion etched into every line of his beloved face.

“Maximista—” He blinked, looked around. “What—” He licked his lips. “What time is it?”

“Almost six-thirty.” She reached inside her tote, removed the large insulted jug of coffee and set it on the desk, then followed it with a wrapped sandwich. “Because I doubt you’ve bothered to eat since last night or that I could talk you into going home to sleep.”

Spinelli blinked again, then rubbed his hands over his face. “I didn’t—I should have called—”

“You did. A text just before midnight.” Maxie tipped her head to the side. “And Mac came by after they shut down the search for the night. He thought I might need to leave, so he and my mom are with the kids. I guess I was surprised to see you here and not at the hospital or out…” She pressed her lips together. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“I don’t—” Spinelli stared blankly at the papers, then at her. “What do you already know?”

“Drink some coffee, take two bites, and then I’ll tell you.”

He grimaced, but followed directions and accepted the water she also fished from her bag. “Well?”

“I know that Sam and Kristina were an accident last night. That Kristina was found, that Sam is still…” Maxie shifted with a sigh. “That she’s still missing, and that her car was caught in the flash floods out by her mother’s place. I also know that the police are investigating one or both of them for something because Mac was talking about Chase being out on scene because he was following someone.” She paused. “I also think it’s related to the case because Jason was there last night, too. And seeing you here — I know it now. What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story—”

“Sum it up, and we can talk details later. What has you pouring over the investigation files all night? You can trust me, Spinelli. You know that.”

Spinelli slid a piece of paper across the desk at her. “You see this? The line I highlighted?”

“Looks like gibberish to me,” Maxie told him with a wrinkle of her nose. “But I think it says something about something on September 3.”

“That’s the records from Elizabeth’s car the day after John Cates was murdered. Her trunk was opened with her remote key fob at 1:13 in the afternoon on September 3.” Spinelli turned the computer screen, tapped a key, then gestured at the bottom. “That time stamp —”

“Matches this time and date—” Maxie stopped, taking in the still image of a car parked on a curb in a neighborhood she knew very well. She’d grown up nearby, had played with her cousin hundreds of times. “That’s Elizabeth’s house. That’s—” She looked at Spinelli. “That’s Kristina.”

“Footage from her neighbor’s Ring Camera. Kristina opens the trunk, places a metal box inside, then closes it. She goes towards Elizabeth’s house — crouches down by the door, then leaves. We think she was dropping the fob in front of the house, hoping they’d think it fell off Elizabeth’s keys or something.”

Tears stung Maxie’s eyes — she didn’t know why. She hadn’t known the murder victim, didn’t know Kristina that well. And she certainly didn’t care much about Elizabeth. But she knew Spinelli had been working tirelessly for weeks to find evidence exonerating Elizabeth, to prove her innocence. And now he had.

“This is connected to last night, isn’t it? That’s why you came here and spent all this time going through files that could have waited until we knew about Sam.” Maxie looked at him again, her throat tight. “What happened, Spinelli?”

“Kristina framed Elizabeth for the murder, or was trying to set up Stone Cold. I don’t know. And she emailed the prosecution for the case to get Elizabeth’s bail revoked. We all thought—” Spinelli rubbed his face. “We thought it was Sam. Trying to get rid of Elizabeth, or help her custody case. But it was Kristina. Sam found out and she was in the car last night. She called me.”

He held out his phone, stared at it. “I don’t talk on the phone much anymore. The calls I’ve made recently have been about the case, so I installed an app to automatically record them.”

He pressed play.

“…I just don’t…why…her bail…important…”

“…told you…I…to help…you said…no one…know.”

“We’ve been over this, Sam. And if Mom can’t make this go away, I’m not admitting to anything.”

“You have to tell them, Kristina. You have to tell them I didn’t know. Danny believes I did this to him—do you really think your feelings are more important?”

“He’ll get over it. He’s done worse to you.”

“I just wish you’d tell me why you did this. Why you really did this. You had to know there was a chance people would think it was me—why did you take the risk? Why not try to get Mom to use it in the custody papers? Why go to the same lawyers who tried to put you in jail?”

“You needed Elizabeth out of the picture—”

“No, no! I didn’t—not like that! Damn it, Krissy, it wouldn’t have solved anything! She’d be a goddamn martyr and everyone would be trying to get her out—you really think it would make Danny’s life better that way?”

“But Jason wouldn’t be able to say he’s got a stable home—”

“No, no, I still think there’s another reason. You were ready to blame me and gaslight everyone else into blaming me, too, until I asked you why you wanted Elizabeth’s bail revoked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Don’t play stupid, Kristina. You’ve never had a negative thing to say about Elizabeth in all these years, and now suddenly you’re trying to help by putting her in jail. I don’t believe you. Just tell me what you did, and we can talk to Mom. We’ll fix it. But you have to tell me what you did.”

“What do you want me to say? That I finally see Elizabeth as a manipulative bitch like you always said—”

“But you’re doing it now not when it would have made a difference. I mean, when she lied about Jake Doe, you weren’t talking like this, but she’s accused of murder, and you want her in jail over it. Kristina, did you put that gun in her trunk?”

“Why are you asking me that? How can you even—”

“What is that? Is that your phone?”

“Damn it—let go—”

The recording stopped, and Maxie lifted her gaze to Spinelli’s. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my god. Kristina — she caused the accident. Sam was driving, and Kristina must have tried to get the phone—she heard that beep — what was it?”

“Flash Flood advisory. Came through her phone, and all the phones around mine.” Spinelli exhaled slowly. “Sam called Danny from her car. She was trapped, terrified, couldn’t get out.”

Maxie pressed a fist to her mouth. “Oh, God. Spinelli. She killed her own sister. She killed—” The horror of it silenced her, and she couldn’t form another word. She’d lost her own sister to unspeakable violence. Georgie’s murder had broken Maxie’s world in ways that couldn’t be articulated, and for twenty years, she’d tried so hard to push it down. But to listen to the sisters argue on the phone, to know where they’d ended up — Tears spilled down her cheeks. “She caused the accident.”

“I couldn’t do anything to help. Couldn’t look for Sam. Couldn’t do anything for her kids, for Stone Cold — but this—” Spinelli  stared at the mess of paperwork. “I could do this. Find the answers. So I came here.” He scrubbed his face over his hands. “I knew she did it. I knew it, somewhere deep inside. But I’m watching her plant that gun, Maximista. And now I know everything that happens because of it.”

They both looked at the frozen image of Kristina at Elizabeth’s car, trunk still open, a box in her hands. “She did it in broad daylight,” Maxie murmured. “There’s something obscene about that, isn’t there? Almost evil.”

Belle Forest Drive: Accident Scene

The blood coursing through his veins must be pure caffeine by now, but Dante tossed back the last of the coffee Michael had delivered. They’d stayed out by command center all night, listening for any sign of news — good or bad. But there’d been nothing.

Now, with the sun rising in the sky, the dusky reds and pinks fading into a soft blue, the quiet scene began to pick up. More trucks arrived, specialized in rescue and recovery. Dante watched them from the car Chase had abandoned by the side of the road. There’d been no sight of the car or of Sam almost from the moment Chase had lost sight of the headlights in the floods. They were attempting to ping her phone, knowing she’d had it to call Danny, but they hadn’t been able to locate it beyond a general area which meant it was probably dead.

A sedan pulled up from the direction of Port Charles, the road having been reopened. Anna stepped out, her face bare of makeup, her hair pulled back into a tail at the nape of her neck. She didn’t look she had slept much either.

“They’re beginning the search again,” she told Dante when she reached him. “They’re starting closer to the lake, hoping that nothing has been swept out with the current—”

“Don’t talk to me like I don’t know what they’re planning,” Dante bit out. He met her cool eyes. “I’m not a moron. I’ve done these before. They’ll check the culverts, the bends, anywhere the car could have been caught. You know I know that, so why are you even here?”

Anna opened her mouth, then closed it when Michael approached, another tray of coffee and a brown paper bag in his hands. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“No. I was just telling Dante that we should know something in a few hours. I also—” Anna paused. “I’d like to offer you another chance to tell me why you and Detective Chase were so quick on the scene. If you know why half of your family seemed to find themselves at the accident scene—”

“Sure. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know as soon as you tell me how Valentin was able to escape custody,” Dante said, lifting his brows.

“Dante—”

“You stopped me. Five minutes. Do you know what would have happened if I’d been just five minutes quicker?” Dante demanded. “I’d have been across the creek, I’d have been here when the accident happened. Chase and I could have gotten them both out of the damn car. But you decided you knew best. You decided you came first. Just like you did this summer.”

Anna folded her arms, took a moment to collect herself. “I know you’re upset—”

“The FBI wanted Pikeman. You knew who Pikeman was. You and Jason made sure Cates didn’t have that information in time to do anything about it. Jason’s a criminal who has his own priorities. I don’t expect better from him. But you, Anna? You had a responsibility to this city. To your officers. Valentin is the reason I was shot on those docks,” he bit out. “I nearly died because he ordered Sonny’s murder, and sent a team of mercenaries to carry it out. But you didn’t think about that, did you? Whatever happens here today, Anna, I can’t change it. I can promise you this — no one in your department will ever respect you again. I’m not the only one who knows what happened.”

He snatched a coffee from Michael, then walked away.

Webber House: Kitchen

No one had really slept in the house, though they’d tried. Elizabeth had come downstairs around three to make herself a cup of a tea and found all three boys in the living room — Aiden in the arm chair, Danny stretched on the sofa and Jake on the floor, the television screen autoplaying YouTube videos quietly. She’d thought they were asleep, but Aiden had looked at her, and she’d realized they just didn’t want to be alone or cooped up in their rooms.

Now, day had broken across the city, and she was making another pot of coffee, listening to Jason talking on the phone to Michael, and the plans for the search. There was no question of sending the boys to school, and she’d already sent emails indicating they wouldn’t be back for the rest of the week. But she’d insisted they go upstairs, shower, and change if only to give she and Jason some time to figure out what they were going to do — if that were even possible.

The shower above their heads clicked off, and Elizabeth looked at Jason, lifting a brow. “What does he say? Are they letting volunteers help or—”

“No, uh—” Jason set the phone down carefully, stared at the counter for a beat, then met her eyes. “They’re not saying anything, but Michael doesn’t think they expect to find…they’re not expecting much. But the longer she’s missing—” He shook his head, looked towards the window overlooking Elm Street. “No body means something, I know. They didn’t find Sonny’s. He came back. And in Greece—”

“And if it weren’t for that phone call, I think we could all hold on to that,” Elizabeth said. Jason sighed. “But—”

“But it changes something that she was trapped or pinned in the car. There’s no guarantee that she didn’t—before the car was moved—” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. But they don’t want family members out there. Especially not her son. Michael says they can’t make Dante or him leave, but I think maybe he’s right. I don’t want—Sam wouldn’t want Danny to see her—” He stopped. He didn’t need to finish the thought, and she didn’t follow up or respond. There wasn’t a need to.

His phone vibrated and Jason reached for it. “It’s Spinelli—” he told her, pressing the accept button. “Yeah?” He straightened, looking at Elizabeth. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll tell her, and I’ll let you know what—I’ll let you know.”

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth demanded as Jason set the phone down. “What did Spinelli say?”

“He, uh—” Jason shook his head slightly, then looked at her again. “He said they found something, but he doesn’t want to say it over the phone. Just that he’s meeting with the FBI later today to turn it over, and he and Diane want to show it to us first.”

+30

Written in 58 minutes.

Thursday, October 4, 2024

Webber House: Jake’s Bedroom

The call connected before even a single ring had been completed, Cameron’s worried voice answering. “What’s wrong?”

Jake stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling, leaving the phone laying on the pillow next to him, his brother’s voice filling the room, a pale imitation of what it would be like if Cameron were right here with him.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“It’s almost one in the morning, dumbass.”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Forgot about that part. Uh—” Unexpectedly, his throat tightened, and the words felt impossible. “First, I’m okay. So’s Mom and Aiden. But there was an accident tonight. Danny’s mom.”

There was silence for a beat, then Cameron replied, “What happened?”

“I don’t really know. Just that Danny’s mom and her sister, Kristina, they were in a car, and then it was in the creek. The one out by their mom’s. Kristina got out, but they haven’t…they haven’t found a body yet.” The ceiling above him blurred. “His mom called him, Cam. She was trapped in the car. Said she couldn’t get out.”

He didn’t have to be looking at his brother or living inside Cameron’s head to know what was running through it — Cameron was likely sitting in his dorm room in Berkeley, cursing himself for getting on the plane nearly twenty-four hours ago. “When are they gonna know?”

“I don’t know. Dad was out there, I think he got home a little while ago, but he hasn’t come up here yet. You don’t have to be a genius to figure he doesn’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say, Cam. Tell me what to say.”

“Jake.”

“I hated her, Cam. You know? We both did. Aiden doesn’t really remember enough to hate her, but we do. And Dad was so angry with her. Danny was picking fights all the time. Anything I say is gonna sound fake and stupid and it’ll make it worse—”

“There’s nothing you can say, man. You know that. Nothing is gonna make this okay. Or hurt less—”

“Tell me what you’d say to me.”

“Jake.” This time when his brother said his name, it was with exasperation. “It’s not comparable—”

“I know—” Jake started to say, but stopped and sat up when the door opened and Danny appeared at the threshold, his eyes rimmed with red.  “Just tell me. Tell me what you’d say to me and Aiden,” he said to Cameron, keeping his eyes on Danny. His brother perched on the edge of the bed, staring hard at the ground.

The line was quiet, and Jake thought Cameron would avoid the question again. But then — “There’s nothing I can do or say to make this go away. To stop you from hurting. From feeling like the world is going to end. Because the world ended. The worst thing that could ever happen to us—it’s here. To pretend that your life didn’t just split into two would be stupid. You will always remember before tonight and after. I know you’ve been through it before with your dad, and yeah, that sucked. A lot. But Mom’s different. It’s different. She’s been there every step of our lives, and she’s supposed to be here until we’re men. This isn’t fair, and I’m not doing you any favors pretending it is.”

“What—” Danny began, but had to stop when his voice faltered. He swallowed hard. “What do I do? I have to be there for Scout. How do you…how do you do it? How am I gonna make it okay for her?”

“Danny, man—” There was a long sigh, then Cameron continued. “You’re not. You can’t. You know that. You want to and Jake wants to, and I wish like hell I was there with you. But you can’t. So you’re gonna hug her, and you’re gonna let her cry. You gotta feel it, man. It’s too big, it’s too much to bury. To pretend it’s not happening. And…you know, maybe it’s not. It’s…Jake said…”

“I-I know. But I-I h-heard her—I h-heard her—” Danny’s face crumbled, and he wrapped his arms around his middle, his body trembling.

Jake climbed over the bed, the phone clutched in one hand, his other going around Danny’s shoulder. “Cam—”

“Yeah, call me back later. Danny, I’m—I’m sorry.”

Jake tossed the phone aside, glancing up when he heard another set of footsteps climbing the steps. “Hey, that’s Dad—”

Danny sat up, immediately scrubbing away the evidence of his tears, lifting his chin, getting to his feet just as Jason appeared in the doorway.

Their father just stood there for a long moment, weighed down by an invisible anchor that kept his shoulders slumped the corners of his mouth curved down. Danny’s lower lip began to tremble again. “You don’t have any news, do you?”

“No,” Jason admitted. “We won’t know anything until morning. Danny—”

“I s-should be with Scout—” Danny started towards him, towards the door. “Maybe you can take me—”

“I just talked to Brook Lynn,” Jason said, holding out a hand to stop him. “Scout’s asleep. She doesn’t know anything yet. I think we should leave her that way.”

“Oh.” Danny folded his arms around himself. “I guess that makes sense. I just—” He jerked a shoulder.

“Need something to do,” Jake finished, getting to his feet. “I get it. Do you want to try to get some sleep?” he asked.

“Sleep?” Danny stared at his brother, furrowed his brow. “I can’t sleep. We should be out there looking for her—”

“I would be if there was anything I could do,” Jason told him. He put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Dante is staying out there tonight, and he’ll call us as soon as we can do something to help. But right now, we’d be in the way of people who know what they’re doing and who are going to make finding your mom their top priority.”

“We’ll watch a movie,” Jake said instead. “That’ll make it go faster. Or maybe one of those—” But Danny had already left the room, and the door across the hall closed a beat later. He grimaced, met his father’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say to him. I tried to call Cam. Cam always has the words—”

“There’s nothing you and I or anyone can say,” Jason said with a firmness that felt oddly reassuring. Because of course Jake knew that — you couldn’t talk someone out of grief, especially when it was so fresh. “We just—we have to make sure we’re here when Danny needs us.”

“I tried—” Jake stopped, then continued. “I thought I could get Cam to tell me what he’d tell us if Mom—and he tried, and I kept thinking what if it were Mom, what I would be doing, or thinking. I thought Cam would have the answers. He always knows what to do or to say, and I should know how to fix this—he’s my little brother—”

“It’s not going to happen tonight, tomorrow, or even in the next few weeks,” Jason said. “There’s no timeline on what Danny is feeling. Or what you’re feeling.”

“Me?” Jake shook his head. “You’re—I don’t count. Danny and Scout, and Rocco—”

“You think you don’t know how to help him because you didn’t like his mother,” Jason interrupted, “but even if you had been Sam’s number one fan, Jake, you still wouldn’t know how to help him. Because Danny doesn’t need anything we can give him right now.” He let out a slow breath. “And I’m telling you this because I need to hear it, too. We can’t take this burden from him, no matter how much we want to.”

“Oh.” Jake pressed his lips together, considered his father’s words. “Okay, but there has to be something we can do. Right? Everyone was so angry at the hospital, and I only sort of understood what was happening. Everyone seemed so angry at Kristina. Why?”

“That’s something we can talk about tomorrow,” Jason told him. “You should try to get some sleep. It’s going to be long day.”

Webber House: Living Room

Elizabeth wrapped the ends of her sweater more tightly around her body, pulling the door open to reveal a damp Diane. “It’s the middle of the night, Diane-”

“I saw your light was on, and I—I took the chance. Please.” The normally well-coiffed lawyer was disheveled, her cheeks tear-stained. “Is Jason back?”

“He’s with the boys. Diane—” Elizabeth closed the door after letting Diane inside.

“I’ll talk to him another time. I couldn’t—” Diane bit her lip, turning to face Elizabeth. “I couldn’t go home, and not try to make things right—that’s stupid,” she said even as Elizabeth opened her mouth. “I can’t make things right—”

“I came down on you and Sonny pretty hard—”

“You were right. Partially. Yes, the suspicions I had, that Spinelli had, we probably could have said something to you or Jason sooner. We had nothing we could use in court, not yet. But there was enough—” Diane hesitated. “I don’t know what Sonny knew or when he knew it, and I can’t speak for his intentions, but I always intended to turn Kristina over to the authorities if and when we had the ability—”

“Diane—”

“You and your family have been through so much. You have to know that my number one goal was to end that suffering—”

“Diane.” Elizabeth held up a hand and this time Diane did stop. “I was angry earlier tonight. Overwhelmed. By everything that had happened, everything that I felt like was happening behind our backs, but I’ve had some time to let things sit. To take a deep breath. I know what it’s like to have a friend as close as Alexis is to you. You’ve watched her girls grow up. You know what Jason’s sacrificed to look after Sonny’s children. After Carly’s. Alexis buried that precious angel a month ago.   I can put myself in your shoes and understand why you wanted to wait until you had to tell us.”

Diane’s eyes watered and she looked away briefly, swallowed again. “As always, your ability to forgive puts the rest of us to shame.” She gathered herself, then focused on Elizabeth again. “Sonny and Alexis are now aware of what Kristina has likely done, and believe me, Alexis has already begun to focus on the reality of Kristina’s actions. To know that that while Sam was being accused by all of us of sending that email and hurting Danny, Kristina did nothing to exonerate Sam. Whether it was selfishness or arrogance or self-preservation, she left her sister to twist in the wind. For all Sam’s faults, she looked after her sisters. Always. Particularly Kristina.” Diane looked past her, and Elizabeth turned to see Jason stepping from the bottom step. “The PCPD have named her as the suspect, and as far as I know, they’ve sent that information to the FBI.”

“It won’t enough for them,” Jason said with some reluctance. “They want someone’s blood—”

“I know. And you can’t make this your priority. Neither of you can. Danny and his sister — they need to be your focus. So I am, once gain, asking for you to leave this in my hands,” Diane said. “Focus on your family. Because I assure you — I will not let Kristina manipulate her mother into getting away with this. Will you give me your trust, just one more time?”

+33

Written in 65 minutes.

Wednesday, October 4, 2024

General Hospital: Roof

Molly tipped her head up to the sky, the mist coating her cheeks, mingling with the tears that had begun to fall even as she’d fled the waiting room. She’d held it together for hours, waiting for news on her older sisters — for Kristina’s surgery to fail, for her to find yet one more way to evade accountability for the mistakes she’d made. Waiting for Sam to be found, battered and bruised, clinging to a branch or washed up on the sides of the creek.

She hadn’t realized how sure she’d been that Kristina would die in surgery, that Sam would survive until she’d been forced to confront the reality: that Kristina would live, and that if Sam were found now, it would almost surely be a recovery and not a rescue effort.

The door behind her opened, the creak of the hinges warning Molly that she wasn’t alone. “I’m not going back down there.”

“I wouldn’t ask it of you.” TJ came to her side, still dressed in his scrubs. He touched her shoulders. “Mols—”

“They’re not going to find her. Not alive, you know that, right? I keep going over it in my head,” Molly interrupted. “Danny said she was trapped. Chase said the car was underwater by the time he made it down the embankment. Even if the car was swept away, she was probably already dead.”

“You can’t think like that—”

“I can. I can think like that because I need to be ready. I need to be ready when they find her—”

“Ready for what?”

“I—” Molly pressed her lips together, looked at him. “I don’t know. For Mom to fall apart. For Kristina to find a way to make this someone else’s fault. She will, you know. She’ll blame Dante and Chase for not confronting her sooner, or for blaming Sam for the call to the court about Danny — she’ll blame Elizabeth or Jason for taking Danny — she’ll find a way to make this someone else’s fault.”

“Probably.”

“And all of those things — maybe they’re true. Maybe it’s everyone’s fault. Maybe it’s mine for not confronting Kristina when she became a suspect. For doing the ethical thing and staying out of it — maybe if Jason had just stayed dead, none of this would be happening—” Molly shook her head, looked back out over the horizon, the view of the city as it began to close down for the nights, the lights gradually dimming or switching off in the buildings around the hospital. “But I’m not going to let her do it. She won’t get away with it this time.”

“This time?” TJ echoed.

“She’s the reason Sam was in that car. She’s the reason everyone turned on Sam—she’s the reason I wasn’t there for Sam—no wonder Sam was acting irrationally — her whole life was falling apart, and I was avoiding her because I didn’t want to deal with Kristina, but if I’d been there—” She moved away from TJ as he began to reach for her. “No. No. If I’d been there. If I hadn’t convinced you to let Kristina be our surrogate, none of this would be happening, and we might have our baby—I’m not going to let Kristina get away with ruining our lives—”

“So you’ll go on another crusade?” TJ interrupted, and Molly stopped, stared at him. “When we lost Irene, you went back to work. You turned Elizabeth’s case into a war that only you could fight. And now that there’s a chance you’ll lose Sam, you’ll — what— hound Kristina until you have justice? Anything you have to do to face what’s happened.”

“How can you say that to me? I am facing it! I am—” Hysteria bubbled up in her throat, and had Molly hugging herself again, closing her mouth until she could force it back down. “You went back to work, too! What did you want me to do, sit around and cry all the time, every day? Do what Kristina did, and make it everyone‘s problem? What was I supposed to do?”

“Deal with the pain, not hide yourself in solving everyone else’s problems. If you hadn’t gone to war with the FBI—”

“Then what? Chase and Dante wouldn’t have realized Kristina was a suspect? Turned up the heat? Are you going to blame me now, too?” Molly demanded. “Do you think I would have started all of this if I thought for one second that the trail would lead back to my family?”

“Do I think you’d have used this to get back at Kristina? Yeah, I do. Because you’re using Sam to get back at her now—”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Molly retorted. “Go to hell.” She stalked past TJ, jerked open the door to the roof and left.

And this time, he didn’t follow.

General Hospital: Chapel

“I don’t know why I’m bothering with this,” Alexis murmured as Sonny sat next to her in the otherwise empty chapel. “God’s not listening, and even if he was, he’s not going to listen to either of us.”

“Alexis—”

“I started to go after Molly, and I stopped myself — because what would I even say?” she asked him. She got to her feet, went to the altar, staring at the candles eternally burning. “Does someone come in and light these every day? What happens when the candle burns down to the wick?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Alexis picked up a long wooden stick that lay next to the candles and used it to light another candle. “Nothing but a fire hazard,” she muttered. “What would I even ask God to do? Turn back time? To when? This is why religion is stupid.”

“She doesn’t mean that,” Sonny said, casting his eyes to the ceiling, then crossing himself as if that would help. He rose, joined her at the altar. “Elizabeth let loose on me and Diane after you left. Seems to think all of this is our fault.”

Alexis rubbed her chest. “I didn’t suspect Kristina of having anything to do with Cates — I had only begun to think she was involved with the bail hearing today—” She looked at him. “How long did Diane know? Or suspect?”

“A while. She kept making excuses to keep Jason and Elizabeth in the dark, and maybe they’re good excuses. But they’re still excuses. If the FBI had suspected Kristina was involved — ”

“They’ve have jumped on it,” Alexis murmured. “A case that was connected to you, clean of the mess Cates made of Kristina’s charges. Maybe they might have still clung to Elizabeth to get to Jason, but it’s just as likely they would have used Kristina to get at you. To tie you to this. And you’re the bigger fish. It would have saved their reputations after Pikeman blew up.”

“I think part of me knew,” Sonny confessed, and she looked at him, met his gaze. “I knew the gun probably came from me almost as soon as it happened. But I talked myself out of it. I told myself that it wasn’t my gun.”

“You never told them it was missing?”

“I told Spinelli. Could have told Jason. He’d have made the connection. Kristina was at Elizabeth’s house the day after the murder. They knew that almost immediately. But I didn’t tell him.”

“Sonny—”

“I didn’t want it to be true,” Sonny said slowly. “For the same reasons Diane kept quiet. Why Dante and Molly took themselves off the case. They’ll tell themselves it was because of me. Because I’d have gotten Kristina out of the country, and maybe that’s true. Maybe I would have. I trust Diane. She’d get Elizabeth free of all of this. Cates deserved to die. He deserved it, Alexis. I’m not sorry he’s dead.”

“Sonny—”

“I didn’t want it to be Kristina. So I ignored all the signs that she was involved. Just like you did. And if Jason is honest with himself, they ignored it, too. We all knew she was at the house. We knew she had the window of opportunity to plant that gun. That she had a reason to want John Cates dead. We all knew those facts, Alexis. But none of us did anything about it.”

Alexis was quiet for a moment, absorbing Sonny’s words, weighing the truth. She stared at the candle she’d lit. What was she even praying for? What was the purpose? For her daughters? For their lives, for their souls, for the world to turn back time, for a second chance —

“I had the chance to believe Sam,” she said softly. “She looked at me, devastated, betrayed, begged me to believe her. And I didn’t. I assumed if Kristina was involved, it was a support role. That she’d given Sam the idea. Or that they worked together. I never once dreamed Kristina had done it on her own. Sam had to call Spinelli without Kristina knowing — she wanted someone else to hear Kristina confess because she knew we’d never believe her. What kind of—” Alexis’s voice broke. “What kind of mother does that make me? That I was so blind to how selfish and destructive Kristina was — that I put all of it on Sam — if she doesn’t come out of this, Sonny, if we don’t find her alive — that’s how it ends. That’s the last memory my daughter has — that I didn’t believe her when it mattered most.”

Quartermaine Mansion: Living Room

Brook Lynn was still shaking rain drops from her dark hair when she came into the room, the fire crackling and warming the room. “I thought you’d be asleep by now,” she said. She accepted the tumbler of whiskey that her father handed her.

“I wanted to wait for news,” Drew said, getting to his feet. “But I guess you don’t have anything else to tell us.”

“No.” Brook looked towards the double doors, past them to the stairs. “Scout is asleep?”

“Olivia’s sitting with her,” Drew said. “I don’t want her to hear about this until—” He rubbed his forehead. “Until we know something.”

“When are they going to start looking again?” Tracy wanted to know.

“Dawn, I think. The storm’s mostly cleared out, so there’s some things they can do tonight, but Chase said the bulk of it’s done until it’s light out. He went back out to Belle Forest to sit with Dante and Michael.” Brook sat in an armchair, clutching the tumbler in her hands. “I know you’re not Sam’s biggest fan, Granny—”

“I’m not going to pop the champagne until I know for sure,” Tracy replied dryly, and Brook rolled her eyes. “Whether I liked the gutternsnipe or not, she’s the mother of Monica’s grandchildren, and Monica liked her. Probably realized they both had gold digging in common.”

“You’re such a comforting presence, Mother,” Ned said with a half-smirk. “But Monica’s right. The possibility of Sam’s…death is an impact on this family, and the people we care about. We all want to be able to tell Scout, Danny — and Rocco — that everything that could be done — that we did it.”

Just outside the double doors, lurking in the foyer, Rocco leaned against a wall, and pulled out his phone. An empty text message blinked back at him, just as it had for several hours. He hadn’t spoken to Danny since they’d been suspended. What would he even say to him that would make a difference right now?

Nothing. So he slid the phone back in his pocket, and slunk back towards the backstairs like the coward he knew that he was.

Webber House: Living Room

The room was dark and empty when Jason finally made it home around midnight — it was quieter than he’d expected, given the events of the evening. He didn’t know whether to be worried or relieved that he wasn’t immediately faced with his son and Danny’s questions.

He heard some dishes clinking in the kitchen and looked over to find Elizabeth putting dishes away in the cabinet. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She set down the plate in her hand, then crossed to meet in the middle of the kitchen, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him tight, his damp clothes pressed against her warm body. “Hey,” she repeated in soft whisper, her fingers lightly brushing the nape of his neck as she pulled away, letting her hands slide down his chest. “You should change into something dry.”

“I will. The boys—they’re not asleep are they?”

“No. No. But I think Danny was tired of being stared at, so he said he was going upstairs. And I think Jake and Aiden just didn’t know what to say.” Elizabeth bit her lip, dipped her head low for a moment, then raised them back. “I don’t know what to say to him either. To any of them. Danny had…Danny had her on speakerphone, so they all…” Her voice trembled. “God, Jason. It’s horrible to think about. That Danny heard her last words—”

He pressed his lips against her forehead, needing the comfort as much as she did. “I don’t know what to feel. What to think. I was so angry at her —”

“So was I.”

“But this isn’t what I wanted. Not like this. Not when Danny—” Jason rubbed Elizabeth’s arms, stepped back slightly. “I don’t know what to do. What to say to him. He knows how angry we were. I’ve done nothing but argue with Sam for months. Anything I can think to say will feel like a lie to him.”

“I know. Jake’s struggling with it, too. Danny knows that we didn’t like her very much. But wanting her out of my life — not like this, Jason. I didn’t want this.” She sighed, bit her lip. “There’s no—I mean, is there any hope? Really?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t say much to me. But I got the sense that they’re not expecting much. Kristina made it out of the car, and Sam didn’t. Instead of calling for help, she called Danny. So she didn’t think there was hope either. Maybe the car was swept away and she was able to move and we’ll find her clinging to wreckage or something, but—”

“But it’s just as likely she was trapped in the car and drowned before the car was swept away.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “I feel awful. I—I blew up on Sonny and Diane at the hospital. If they’d just told us something weeks ago, how much of this would have been different? I kept thinking that they were so busy protecting Kristina  and not caring about anyone else—I know they didn’t mean for tonight to happen, but—”

“I don’t know what Sonny knew. Or when he knew it.” Jason grimaced, rubbed his face. “But maybe that’s no different than how they played this. None of us want to believe Kristina would do something like this. And I don’t want to think that Sonny would have let you go through all of this if he had something that could stop it. He knew—” He paused. “He knew I thought about confessing. And he was pissed at me. Did he know it was possible then? Did he let me think about leaving you and the boys while he knew what really happened? I don’t want to think he did.”

“I’m not sorry I lost my temper, I just wish I hadn’t done it tonight. I just—I just want to do what’s right for Danny and for you. And God, for poor Scout, who’s been almost forgotten in all of this. No matter how I felt about Sam, this wasn’t how it should have ended.”

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