I was the match and you were the rock
Maybe we started this fire
We sat apart and watched
All we had burned on the pyre
You said we were born with nothing
And we sure as hell have nothing now
– Things We Lost in the Fire, Bastille

________________________

Friday, June 19, 2003

Queen of Angels: Courtyard

Jason stared at the pale purple heel that dangled from Sonny’s trembling fingers.

When he had started to work for Sonny years earlier, he had worked a lot of stakeouts. Had followed people, listened as they talked to others. He had trained himself to automatically assess what people looked like and what they wore so he could recall them later. Give Sonny accurate reports.

He hadn’t paid attention to how Carly had dressed for his wedding—had barely paid attention to his own tuxedo. He’d unzipped a garment bag she’d given him and just worn whatever was inside. Now, Jason realized that he knew exactly how his best friend had been dressed. It was crystallized in his memory as if she were standing in front of him.

A pale purple dress with spaghetti straps that fell to her knees with a high waist that covered her burgeoning pregnancy. It had been made from a soft material that Jason didn’t know the name of, beyond the fact it was neither cotton nor silk.  Jason could visualize Carly walking towards him from the doorway of the church, carefully picking her feet over the gravel and soft ground to meet him near the gazebo where he had been standing.

Her feet wrapped in a pair of shoes that had matched her dress with thin straps at the ankle and a type of heel that had always reminded him of an ice pick.

The same shoe that Sonny now held.

Jason swallowed, turned to the little blond boy he still loved as his own, at his scraped and bleeding palms, the torn dress pants showing a similarly scraped knee. The tear stains on his face.

“Michael,” he said quietly, firmly. “Can you tell me what you saw?”

Michael continued to cry, unable to form words through his choking sobs. Jason lifted him in his arms and looked at Sonny and Bobbie, their faces pale and shaken.

“Where are the guards?” Sonny bit out. “I thought you went over security—”

“I’m taking Michael inside,” Jason cut in. “Sonny, go find Francis. He’s head of the security detail. Find out where the hole in the perimeter was—there shouldn’t have been one,” he said as Sonny’s face darkened and his partner opened his mouth. “But obviously there was.”

“What do you want me to do?” Bobbie asked, crossing her arms.

“I need you to go find Emily and Monica,” Jason said. “Tell them—” He hesitated.

He had to clear the church without anyone knowing what was going on. If the PCPD got wind that Carly was missing, they would shut the scene down. Jason wouldn’t be allowed to question Michael, to calm him down. And he knew Taggert and Capelli would leap at the opportunity to tear apart Sonny and Jason’s holdings.

Whatever was happening, wherever Carly was—it was crucial that Sonny and Jason retained control of the scene and situation.

Bobbie pressed her lips together and nodded. “You need me to get everyone out of the church without telling them why,” she said. She twisted her fingers together. “Okay. Do you care what I tell them?”

“No,” Jason said shortly. “But ask Monica to do it. I need you and Emily in the back with me. Michael trusts both of you.”

The little boy was still crying in Jason’s arms, his face buried in the shoulder of Jason’s tuxedo jacket, the tears soaking through to the linen shirt beneath.

“Bobbie,” he said as a fuming Sonny disappeared through the gates—the shoe still clutched in his hand. The strap dangling. “I will find her.”

“I know.” Bobbie took a moment. Took a deep breath. Composed herself. “I’ll get it done, Jason. I trust you.”

They returned to the church together—Bobbie went through the wide double doors and Jason strode down the hall where the bridal suite was located. He pushed the door open and Courtney gave a startled shriek as she topped backwards off the small step stool she had been standing upon, falling to the floor in a heap of white tulle and silk.

Leticia Juarez, Michael’s nanny, wrinkled her nose and started to stand to assist the bride, freezing when she saw her charge in Jason’s arms. “Michael?”

Courtney tried to sit up, to find the leverage to pull herself into a standing position, almost lost in the full skirts of her elaborate wedding dress. “You’re not supposed to be back here—”

But she closed her mouth as Jason ignored her completely and set Michael on the sofa. Leticia knelt in front of Michael, taking his small bleeding hands in hers. “What’s going on?”

“Mommy,” Michael managed to sob but couldn’t get anything else out.

The door opened again as Emily and Bobbie rushed in. “Jason—” His little sister quickly came to Michael’s side, sitting on the sofa. “Hey, buddy. What happened?”

Bobbie handed Leticia a first aid kit. “Monica is clearing the church as we speak.” She hesitated. “She may have taken some liberties with the story I gave her.”

“Clearing the church?” Courtney demanded as Bobbie reluctantly pulled the bride to her feet. “What are you talking about? Jason, what the hell is going on? What happened to Michael—”

The door opened again as Sonny came in, his eyes like a burning pit of coal as he closed it behind him. “They found a guard on the south side of the church.”

Jason looked at him. “Found—”

Sonny gently shook his head, and Jason understood. A guard had been killed. That was the hole in the security.

“I want to know what the hell is—” Courtney tried again, but her voice died as she saw the shoe in Sonny’s hand. “Where is Carly?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

Jason ignored all of this, concentrated on Michael. He cupped his nephew’s face in one hand and kept his eye contact. “Hey, buddy. I need you take deep breaths for me. Okay. Breathe with me.”

He drew in a deep breath and Michael did the same.

“I will find your mother,” Jason said. “I just need you tell me what happened. Okay? I need you to be the best big brother and son you can be.”

“Mommy—she was standing outside,” Michael choked out. “And—And then a man p-put something over her mouth. Mommy—she tried to fight him. But he started dragging her away. I screamed. I ran after them, b-but I tripped—” His lips trembled as sobs continued to wrack his frame.

“We have to call the police,” Courtney said. “They—”

Bobbie closed a hand over the bride’s wrist and squeezed it hard. “No. Wait let him finish.”

“Do you know the man?” Jason asked. “Have you seen him before?”

“B-bad man,” Michael said with a nod. “Mommy doesn’t like him. He—he worked with her.”

Behind the sofa, Sonny braced his hands along the edge, dipping his head. Everything inside Jason went cold.

“Did he have dark hair?” Jason asked. “Like Daddy?”

“Oh, God—” Emily met Bobbie’s terrified eyes. “He can’t mean—”

Michael nodded. “R-Ric. I—I thought he-he was Mom—Mommy’s friend, but-but she was fighting—a-and then she stopped.”

“Drugged her,” Sonny muttered, dragging his free hand through his hair and closing his eyes.

Jason leaned forward, kissed Michael’s head. “Okay, okay. Michael, you did good. I’m so proud of you. I need you to stay here with Aunt Emily and Grandma Bobbie, okay? Can you stay here? Stay safe—”

And then he and Sonny left the room without speaking further. No communication was needed. They knew where they had to go.

“We need to call—” Courtney started, but winced as Bobbie squeezed her wrist again. She yanked her arm away from Bobbie with a scowl. “What is your problem? We need to call the police. They need to start looking for Carly, too—”

“Jason and Sonny already know what happened to her,” Bobbie shot back. “Calling the police—”

“Oh, it’s not like it’s about their business,” Courtney cut in with a scathing tone. “Ric hates Sonny because of their mother. If Ric took Carly, then the police need to arrest him—”

“My brother is really marrying her?” Emily said to Leticia who just busied herself patching up Michael’s scratches.

“Hey, I get Jason’s life,” Courtney snarled. “But this is different. Carly was kidnapped by someone who hates Sonny because of personal reasons. Jason’s gone to the police before. Last year. Because Taggert was there when the crypt exploded. Remember, Bobbie—”

“As a last resort,” Bobbie said with a weary sigh. “Courtney, I’m terrified, but we need to handle this the way Jason and Sonny want us to. Carly wouldn’t—”

“Carly isn’t here.” Courtney stalked towards the vanity where her purse sat, her dress rustling.

“Don’t—” Bobbie began, but Emily shook her head.

“We can wrestle her to the ground, but the second we turn our backs, she’s gonna call them. I’ve got something else.” Emily got to her feet. “Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth,” Bobbie repeated. “I—”

“You know what’s going to happen. My brother and Sonny are going to burst into that house and start demanding answers. And Elizabeth is going to be in the middle of it all.” Emily folded her arms over her chest. “I want to be there. And I want to make sure Ric didn’t do anything to her.”

Bobbie scowled. “Courtney, this is my last warning—” But the bride was already speaking into the phone. “Okay, let’s go to the house. We can at least warn Jason and Sonny.”

Lansing House: Panic Room

Carly moaned, pressed her face into the fabric beneath her cheek. A hammer pounded inside her skull. Her body ached. Her mouth was dry. What the hell had happened to her?

Her vision blurred as she opened her eyes. This wasn’t her bed. The pillow beneath her head was too rough, the mattress thin and bumpy. Carly turned slightly and forced herself to sit up slowly. She was lying on a cot that was maybe a foot off the ground and…her ankle felt heavy. Cold. She tried to concentrate, to bring her location into focus.

A thick, heavy, metal bracelet was wrapped around her right ankle and attached to a chain. Carly stared at it for a long time because it didn’t make sense.

Nothing about this made sense. Where the hell was she? What—

“There’s enough slack for you to move around, to use the bathroom but not to get near the door.”

A voice sliced through the fog, forcing Carly to turn, to find a shadow in the darkness. A light switched on over her and suddenly, the dim light of a single low-watt lamp next to her was replaced by brightness.

Carly cried out, her head exploding from the pain. “W-What—”

“You’ll have everything you need,” the voice continued, and Carly knew it. She couldn’t place it. Couldn’t make herself think. Couldn’t think past the pain.

“But you won’t be leaving this room.”

“What’s—” Carly managed. “What’s going on—”

“Don’t bother screaming. This room is sound proof and I will never be—” The voiced stopped. “That wasn’t long enough,” came an aggravated mutter.

She heard some moving—a new source of light, but she just couldn’t make herself move. And then the light was gone.

The voice was gone. The light was gone.

With the room once again plunged into the shadows, Carly could take a deeper breath. Her head was still pounding, but the piercing pain had faded.  She could focus now, and some of her panic was starting to recede.

There was some dim movement out of the corner of her eye, and then Carly could see a row of screens across from the cot. She took a deep breath and tried to stand. The room wavered, but she forced herself not to sway.

Fought back the nausea.

She had to figure out where she was. Had to make sure she knew everything so that when Jason and Sonny found her—she’d be ready.

Carly limped the short distance between the cot and the little desk in front of the row of the screens built into the wall. The images were in black and white—and she didn’t recognize them. There was a living room with a sofa. A front door. A view of a street and driveway. A kitchen. A staircase. A bathroom. Two bedrooms—

But in the second bedroom, Carly did recognize someone. A short, thin woman was sitting on a bed, wrapped in a terry cloth robe.

Her dark hair bundled up in a messy bun, tendrils falling around her face, damp from a shower.

Elizabeth Webber was in that room.

And the voice…Oh, God. Now Carly knew that voice.

Ric Lansing.

Ric had kidnapped her. Locked her in this room.

She searched the screens frantically and finally found him climbing the stairs. He must have been out of frame before.

She watched him as he went into the bedroom. Elizabeth—she couldn’t know, could she? Carly had always disliked the other woman, but Elizabeth was like Robin. A goody two shoes. An angel. Soft. Fragile. She could be a moron about guys, Carly knew that. But there was no way Elizabeth would be in on this.

She watched Ric pull Elizabeth to her feet—and there it was—a slight wobble. A sway. Elizabeth put a hand to her head. Said something. But now Carly knew. Elizabeth had been drugged just as she had been.

Michael. She brought a fist to her mouth. Oh, God, she remembered her little boy had been there. Crying. Screaming. Running after her. Had Ric hurt him? Where was he?

Had he seen Ric? Could he—

Carly forced down her worries, her terror. Ric handed Elizabeth some clothes from a drawer and then she watched as the married couple talked for another moment. Ric was frowning, Elizabeth was holding the sweats in front of her.

She didn’t begin to change until Ric had left. An odd lack of intimacy for newlyweds and Carly looked away, followed Ric, rather than continuing to watch Elizabeth.

What did he have planned? Why—What had he said? She would have everything she needed…?  Why had he kidnapped her and locked her inside his own home? How could he possibly think to get away with this?

Lansing Home: Master Bedroom

When Ric was finally gone, Elizabeth released a breath and managed to pull on the thin gray sweatpants and blue tank top he had given her. He had been irritated that she wouldn’t dress in front of him, and Elizabeth wasn’t entirely sure where her reticence had come from. Hadn’t she just promised herself that she would reapply herself to her marriage?

She looked at the clock and frowned slightly. It was nearly seven-thirty.

How long had she dozed? Ric had said it was for a few minutes but that couldn’t be right. She’d arrived just before six. She had had a glass of champagne.

And her head was fuzzy. Her mouth was still dry. She felt a bit better after the shower but—

She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. There were circles under her eyes, her skin was pale—even more than usual. She wasn’t sleeping. Wasn’t eating well. And she hadn’t felt right since her miscarriage. Dr. Meadows had given her a clean bill of health, but Elizabeth thought maybe it was time to go back—

A crash and men’s shouts drew her attention. Elizabeth’s ears perked up—she knew those voices. But—but he was getting married—

Elizabeth stumbled out of the bedroom and towards the stairwell, bracing herself against the wall, vertigo sending her spinning. Why couldn’t she walk straight?  She could hear the shouts more clearly—Sonny’s demanding tones—something about Carly—and Jason’s growls. Something else crashed.

Elizabeth started down the stairs, holding on the rail with a death grip. Her stomach was rolling, and her head was swimming.

“J-Jason?” she managed as she came to the bottom of the staircase, switching her grip to the doorway that separated the stairwell from the living room.

Sonny and Jason were in her living room, clad in disheveled tuxedos. Sonny had Ric against the wall, his hands at his throat while Jason was opening a closet door.

All three men turned to look at her and she couldn’t process the scene. Couldn’t make it come out right. “You’re getting married,” she said without thinking to Jason. “Aren’t you?”

Jason scowled at her and then something in his eyes changed as he drew closer. He touched her chin, turned her head slightly and then turned back to Ric. “What did you give her?” he said, his voice reaching a low dangerous growl she had only heard a handful of times.

“What are you talking about?” Ric asked, his fingers digging at Sonny. “She’s fine. Elizabeth, tell them—”

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth licked her lips. She reached out, but she just couldn’t…there was no energy in her fingers as they brushed Jason’s tuxedo jacket. “What—I don’t—”

She could feel the fury radiating from him, but Jason’s touch was gentle as he put a hand under her elbow and led her to the sofa. Helped her to sit.

He took her wrist in his and laid two fingers against her skin. “Your pupils are dilated,” Jason told her. “Your pulse is ragged. What did you eat or drink tonight?”

Elizabeth stared at him. Shook her head. “N-No—”

“Leave my wife alone,” Ric growled, but he couldn’t quite break free of Sonny’s grip.

“I had—what’s going on? Did-did you say something about Carly?” Elizabeth said, drawing her wrist from Jason’s grip. “Is she okay?”

“She’s missing,” Sonny said flatly. “And Michael saw Ric take her. Where is she?” he demanded, digging his hands in more tightly. Ric gasped.

“He was—” Elizabeth forced herself to think. “He was here. I think. I don’t know—” Why did her tongue feel so heavy?

“Elizabeth. He drugged you.”

“Call the cops, Elizabeth,” Ric choked out.

Elizabeth turned to look at him. At the man who had fathered her child. Whom she had promised to love, honor, and cherish.

Had he drugged her tonight? Had he drugged her before? Is that why this sensation felt so…familiar?

“I need you to tell me what happened tonight.”

She turned her head back to that familiar voice. That gentle, beloved tone in Jason’s voice that he adopted when he spoke to her. Tears slid down her cheeks. She missed his voice. The way he said her name. Had he said it tonight? Yes. Yes. She remembered that.

“I don’t know,” she managed to say. “I can’t—I came home at six. I was at the studio. I—I don’t—We had champagne…” Elizabeth looked at the table, but the glasses were gone. The champagne was gone. Like it had never happened. “Didn’t we?”

“No,” Ric said, as Sonny finally released him. “No, we didn’t. Elizabeth, you came home and went upstairs to sleep. You’ve been sleeping so much since we lost the baby.”

The baby. God. She closed her eyes. Her baby. Her little shining ray of light in the darkness.

“Shut up,” Sonny growled.

She had been sleeping a lot, Elizabeth thought. Or no, wait. No, she hadn’t. She never slept. Did she? Why couldn’t she remember?

“I—” Elizabeth looked at Jason. “I don’t know. Maybe—maybe I took a nap. I don’t know.”

“Michael said he took Carly. Was Ric gone?” Jason asked.

“I’ve been here the whole goddamn time. Tell him, Elizabeth. You woke up at seven and I was here. You took a shower—”

“I—” Elizabeth’s voice faltered. “Maybe.”

“Damn it, we’re not going to get anything from her,” Sonny growled. “Whatever he gave her is screwing with her memory. I’ll take him to the warehouse. Jase, you take her to the penthouse. Get her some rest. Some coffee. I don’t know. Call Bobbie—”

And then the door was open again, and two women clad in evening gowns rushed in. “Courtney called the PCPD,” Emily said in a rush.

“Where’s my daughter?” Bobbie cried as she pushed past Emily and started for Sonny and Ric. Jason sprang off the sofa and intercepted her, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her back.

Emily sat next to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said slowly, drawing out her words. “Am I?” she asked, twisting her head to look at Jason. Jason would know. Jason would protect her.

“He gave her something,” Jason bit out. “What did you say about Courtney?”

Bobbie pushed herself away from Jason’s grip. “I tried to stop her, but she called the cops.”

“My sister did what?” Sonny demanded.

“Called the authorities,” Marcus Taggert said as he and Andy Capelli swaggered into the room. Behind him, a shorter dark-haired uniformed officer entered, his expression aggravated. “When someone is missing, the first few hours are crucial, Corinthos.”

Sonny closed his eyes, and Jason scowled.

“These people are trespassing,” Ric snarled. “I want them out of here—”

“No—” Elizabeth managed. She stood. Shook her head. “No. They’re not. They—” She closed her eyes, and Emily rose, putting an arm around her waist to steady her.

“What happened to her?” Capelli demanded of Sonny. “Did you terrify her into a nervous breakdown?”

“Oh, for the love of—” Bobbie muttered.

“They’re not trespassing,” Elizabeth said. She could do this. She had to do this. Everyone was so angry. So afraid. “They—they’re looking for Carly. And—they should look. You should all look.”

“Elizabeth—” Ric said with a devastated look in his eyes, in his words. “You don’t believe I would—”

“They have to look,” she repeated. “Or they won’t know for sure. They have to know for sure—”

“We have your permission, Elizabeth?” Taggert asked. He approached her. “You’re sure—”

“You don’t have mine!”

“We just need yours, Elizabeth. And exigent circumstances will take care of any gray areas.”

She latched onto that. She could do this for Jason and Sonny. Carly was missing. Carly was important to them. She knew how much Jason loved Carly.

“You can look.”

“Damn it,” Ric growled. “You should get a warrant—”

“Got something to hide?” Sonny demanded.

“No, but—”

“Rodriguez, make sure Corinthos and Morgan stay right here. Lansing, you come with us. We’re going to search this house from top to bottom,” Taggert said. To Jason, he growled, “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jason muttered.

When the trio had disappeared into the back of the house where the basement door and back stairs was located, Jason released Bobbie, and turned his attention back to Elizabeth. “Bobbie, Ric gave her something. Her pulse isn’t right—”

Bobbie hustled over to Elizabeth, repeating Jason’s earlier measurements. “Honey, you need to come to the hospital. We need to take care of you—”

“N-No.” Elizabeth shook her head. She had to stay here. Had to make sure the PCPD could look for Carly. If she left, Ric would stop them from looking. “I—I have to stay.”

“Elizabeth,” Emily said, with anguish. “You look like hell. Your pupils are so big I can’t even tell what color your eyes are—”

“Elizabeth, I appreciate you giving your permission for them to look,” Sonny said with a soft sigh. “But he probably already stashed her somewhere else.” He scowled at Jason. “We’re wasting our time here.”

All eyes turned to the uniform at the doorway who took a deep shaky breath. “Look, if you leave now,” he said with a sigh, “you know Taggert and Capelli are gonna just come after you. It’s better if you let them do what they want and then you’re not running from warrants, too.”

“Why is it always the rookies with common sense?” Sonny muttered.

Jason ignored him, gently pulling Emily away from Elizabeth so he could take her place on the sofa. “You have to go to the hospital, Elizabeth. Please. I need you to be okay. I can’t worry about you—”

“You’re not,” Elizabeth said, deliberately taking her time with her words. Couldn’t slur them. Couldn’t mess this up. “I’m…I’m okay. I, um, I haven’t—” She closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking. Why were they shaking?

Jason’s warm hands closed around hers, stilling them. “Elizabeth—”

“Since the baby. Haven’t been okay,” she admitted, finally saying out loud what had been locked away. “I’m not okay about that. I mean…” What did she mean? “I’ll see someone. But this—”

“Elizabeth,” Emily muttered. “For God’s sakes, Jason, don’t argue with her. Make her go—”

“With the PCPD here?” Sonny shook his head. “Elizabeth, do you think you gotta stay so me and Jason don’t get arrested for trespassing?”

“I—” Elizabeth stared at the other man for a long moment. “I—yes. I’m here. I can let you in. The police—” She licked her lips. They were dry and cracked. How long had they been like that? “Maybe they don’t believe Michael. Maybe they won’t look very hard.”

“And if you’re here, you can let Jason and Sonny in again to look for more evidence,” Bobbie said with a shake of her head. “Elizabeth—”

“Can’t get arrested. He’s—” Elizabeth turned squinted at the uniform, who was trying to pretend he was anywhere else. “He’s right. You can’t find Carly if you—”

“That is not your job,” Jason began. “It’s mine—”

“My fault.” Elizabeth wasn’t sure how, but it had to be. Ric was hers. She had promised herself to him. Chosen him.

“No—”

“Elizabeth, do you believe Michael?” Sonny said, his voice tight. “Do you think Ric is involved?”

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, God. Oh, God.” She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t. If it was true, oh God, what had she done?

“Please come with me,” Emily begged, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Please don’t stay here. It’s not worth it. Jason and Sonny—” She got to her feet, went to the uniform. “You’re new, right? Do you know Lucky Spencer?”

“I—” The uniform nodded. “Yeah, we’re friends—”

“Then you need to listen to me. My brother is going to get Elizabeth out of here. And you have to help—”

“I can’t—” the cop shook his head. “I can’t let him leave—”

“Then, Jason, you have to come back—”

“Elizabeth is right,” Sonny muttered. “Even if she’s drugged out of her goddamn head, she’s right.” He scrubbed his hands over her face. “Taggert and Capelli are just looking for Carly. They’re not going to tear the house apart. But Elizabeth being here means we can. Jason—”

Elizabeth nodded, relieved that someone understood. “You can come back. If Ric did it, you need to know for sure. You can’t waste your time. I can’t go.”

She had to stay. Had to make it right. Her head started to swim, and she pressed a hand to her eyes. “Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Jason growled. “I’ll come back with or without permission. She’s not staying here another minute—” He started to get up, but Elizabeth’s other hand shot out, took his hand.

“I can do this. I’m—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think I might be sick.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, and her stomach started to settle. “But I told you. I wasn’t lying. I haven’t felt well in weeks. I’ll go see a doctor. But Carly’s missing. And she’s pregnant.”

Her head was starting to clear. She could finally feel herself coming back. Elizabeth rose to her feet and saw Jason’s expression as he also stood up. The anguish. The fear.

And the knowledge that some of that was for her—that it wasn’t just because of Carly—that filled something in her. An empty piece of her soul that she hadn’t even realized was missing.

“This is the way I can help,” she said softly. Meeting his eyes. Looking at him the way she used to, begging him to believe her. To know her again.

His eyes softened. “Don’t ask me to leave you here—”

“You can’t make me go. You know I’m stubborn. I promise. I—I’ll go talk to a doctor or something. But right now, you need me here.” She looked to Bobbie. “I can be more useful here. Let me help.”

Jason pressed his lips together, shook his head. “No—”

But he was cut off when the police returned with a smug Ric. “Now that you’ve looked in all the rooms,” her husband said as he wisely stopped at the doorway, scowling at how close Jason was standing to her. “You can all get the hell out of my house—”

Elizabeth took a step back, relieved when her balance held. “I let you look,” she said, hardening her voice. She kept walking back, away from their worried expressions. “She’s not here. Ric didn’t do this, okay? He wouldn’t hurt Carly.”

“See?” Ric said with a lift of his chin. “You tried to make her turn against me, but Elizabeth loves me, Morgan. Not you.”

Jason swallowed, looked at Sonny. “Let’s go,” he said.

He stalked towards the doorway and out to the porch.

“Don’t think this clears you,” Taggert said with a jab of his finger. “Just because she’s not in here, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’ve been home all night,” Ric retorted.

“Elizabeth, please—” Emily said, anguished. But Bobbie took her arm and led her from the room.

“Corinthos,” Taggart said. “Let’s go. We need to go down to the station.”

Sonny shook his head, but left the living room, following Taggert out the door. The uniform looked back at Elizabeth once more before closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with her husband.

Lansing Home:  Front Lawn

Jason wanted to put his fist though the goddamn wall. Why the hell had Courtney called the fucking police? If Taggert and Capelli hadn’t shown up, Ric would be somewhere being tortured for what he knew, and Elizabeth—

Elizabeth would be safe.

He had seen her swaying, her pale face, her dilated pupils, listened as she tried to think. Tried to understand what was happening around her. And the fact that this wasn’t the first time she had felt like this didn’t really make him feel better.

It just meant that the fucking monster had been drugging her for weeks.

When that asshole had brought up her miscarriage, Jason had watched her crumble inside and admit that she wasn’t okay. He’d wanted to take her away, to tell everyone else to go to hell.

But then she’d been there at the end, her head had cleared enough for her to give him that look. She wasn’t asking to stay because she didn’t understand what was happening.

No, Elizabeth had done what she always did—took the weight of the world on her own shoulders. Blamed herself for Carly’s kidnapping. Made it her problem to fix.

“Jason,” Bobbie said with tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry, I tried—”

“I’m going back there,” his sister hissed as she left the house, joining them on the front step. “As soon as Taggert lets us go, I’m going to drag her out of here by her hair, and then you’re going to lock her somewhere until she stops being so goddamn hard headed—”

“Right now, she thinks she’s helping. She’s upset. She’s not thinking clearly.” Jason swallowed. And if the PCPD hadn’t been there, he could have done more. She would have come with him willingly before they arrived. Before she understood Carly was missing.

“Are you going to meet us at the station?” Taggert demanded as he joined the group and the front door closed. “Or do we have to take you in the patrol car?”

“I should stay here,” the uniform said. Capelli turned to glare at him. “I mean, the witness saw Lansing. If he leaves the house—”

“That’s a good idea,” Taggert said before Capelli could snarl at the uniform. “Good clear thinking, Rodriguez.” He looked at Morgan. “I saw her, too, Morgan. He’s guilty as fuck.”

“Taggert,” Capelli began.

“He did it. I don’t know how, but she consented to a search which gave us nothing. She refused medical treatment, didn’t she?” he asked Bobbie. Bobbie sighed, and Emily just folded her arms with a scowl. Taggert nodded. “Exactly. We don’t have a lot of options. Rodriguez, you stay here until the end of shift—we’ll bring someone to relieve you—”

“I’m fine. I’ll work a double. I’ll stay all night if I have to.” Rodriguez lifted his chin. “I—I didn’t like how she looked, sir. If she changes her mind—”

“A patrol car should be right outside.” Taggert nodded. “Okay. Let’s get down to the station and figure out what’s next.”

Jason met the rookie’s eyes and, for the first time in his known life, felt a rush of gratitude for a cop. He’d listened to them. He knew Elizabeth’s condition. And the kid was going to stay.

And as soon as Taggert let him go, Jason was coming right back here to force her to leave. He just had to pray she would be okay until then.

Lansing Home: Living Room

Her shoulders slumped when the door closed, and she looked at Ric. “Why did he say those things?”

“What?” Ric said, with wide eyes. “You know I didn’t take Carly. I’ve been here—”

“About my pulse. My pupils.” Elizabeth went to the mirror over the fireplace mantel and scowled. She couldn’t tell now, but she didn’t doubt Jason for a moment. Still… “My eyes look okay—”

“He was lying to you,” Ric said gently. He moved behind her, put his hand around her shoulders, gently rubbing. “Trying to get you to leave me. You stayed. You believed in me.”

He leaned down, brushed his lips against her neck, and it took everything in her not to flinch. Not to move away.

Because she didn’t believe Ric. She believed Michael. She believed Jason. And she knew…she knew something wasn’t right about tonight. It wasn’t the first time she had felt so fuzzy, so tired, and weak. She’d thought it was from the fall. The recovery. The deep sadness inside.

But maybe…

She had a job to do. She turned and managed a weak smile. “He was scared. Carly’s missing. And Michael probably saw something in the dark that looked like you. Poor kid. He must be terrified.”

Ric nodded. “But the PCPD are involved, and you were right to let them search. I’m sorry I was so angry—”

“Well, now they know she’s not here.” She forced herself to kiss his cheek. “They can look for her somewhere else. I’m still not feeling well—I think I’m just going to go upstairs. Get some sleep.” She hesitated. “I’m going to sleep in the other room, though.”

“Elizabeth, I thought—”

“I’m just feeling sick to my stomach a-and you know I haven’t been sleeping well. You said you were getting up early to look for office space, right? I don’t want—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. She could do this. “You need your rest.”

“Okay,” Ric said, with a tilt of his head. “If you’re sure.”

“Very sure. Good night, babe.”

She kept the smile on her face as she turned away, as she climbed the stairs, and went into the second room. She wouldn’t sleep, but at least…she wouldn’t feel obligated to let him touch her again.

Not tonight.

You’ll say you understand
But you don’t understand
You’ll say you’d never
Give up seeing eye to eye
But never is a promise
And you can’t afford to lie
– Never Is A Promise, Fiona Apple

________________________

Friday, June 19, 2003

Pier 52: Warehouse

The building still had the logo of the Roscoe Imports Company emblazoned across the doorway, though it had not done any business since Mickey Roscoe had died the year before. His grieving widow kept it and used the offices, but she had never been able to muster the backing or finances to keep the front going.

Ned walked through the empty building, wishing he had brought someone with him. Not that he had anyone who would fit the bill since no one even knew he was working with Faith Roscoe—and hadn’t that been a stupid idea?

When Faith had wanted revenge on Sonny the previous year, after her husband’s disappearance and after Kristina’s death, it had seemed like a manna from heaven. She’d already arranged for an old associate to come to town—Ric Lansing who was supposed to get into the organization, dismantle it from within while Ned had bankrolled the entire operation.

But nothing had gone to plan, and Ric hadn’t returned any calls for weeks.

Faith Roscoe was pacing the empty office, her black stilettos clicking against the cement floor. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” Her blue eyes snapping, digging holes into him, she stopped in front of him, hands planted on her hips.

“I’m sure I don’t care,” Ned said. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” the blonde demanded with a brittle laugh. “I want to cut that little china doll into tiny pieces.”

Ned furrowed his brow. “China doll?” he echoed. “Is this about Elizabeth?” It hadn’t bothered him at first that Faith and Ric were sleeping together until Elizabeth had turned up pregnant and married to Ric. He hadn’t paid much attention to her before that, but the miscarriage had upset Monica who had called Emily.

And he had honestly forgotten Elizabeth was Emily’s friend—hadn’t thought of her as anything other than a pawn Ric was using to get closer to Jason and Sonny.

It had disturbed him to know he was capable of such callous disrespect for a young woman who he knew had helped Kristina the year before, had been there when the warehouse exploded. Attended her funeral. Elizabeth had worked for him at L&B and Chloe had been fond of her. She’d disappointed in him now.

“It’s always about Elizabeth when it comes to Ric. He’s up to something, you know that? He’s not talking to me. He’s not following the plan—he’s got her all set up in a house—” Faith huffed. “You know, if she weren’t around, maybe he’d—”

“Stop right there.” Ned held up a hand, shook his head. “Stop. I’m out. I wanted Sonny to pay for what happened to my fiancée, and I lost my head for a while. But I don’t trust Ric, I don’t trust you—and—” he hesitated. “This just isn’t what I want anymore.”

Faith narrowed her eyes, planting her red-tipped hands at her waist. “You think you’re walking away from me? No one walks away from me.”

“Well, it looks like Ric has.”

“Oh, and he’ll get what’s coming to him, too,” Faith called after him as Ned turned away. “Him and that little china doll!”

“And so will anyone else that gets in my way,” she muttered when he was gone.

Queen of Angels: Bridal Room

In just a little over a year, Courtney Matthews had been engaged twice. Three times, if one counted a blackmailed engagement that had lasted all of an hour and a half.

The first had resulted in quick ceremony—a spur of the moment, spontaneous leap of faith with a man she barely knew. It had been just she and AJ in front of a justice of the peace, a plain white dress and a suit, and two witnesses they’d dragged off the street.

And now, she stood in an elaborate white gown in the bridal suite of a Catholic church sitting in a room with two women who hated her.

Courtney couldn’t explain why but, in this moment, she yearned for the spontaneous sweetness of her first wedding. Their marriage might have ended in disaster—AJ may have broken her heart—but at least she could say she honestly believed in their love for one another, no matter how it had begun or ended.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to recall the happiness of the moment Jason had proposed but she simply couldn’t. The heavy, tense atmosphere in her bridal suite had poisoned the memory and every other positive emotion she’d tried to dredge up.

“You need anything?” Jason’s sister asked sullenly from the other side of the room. Emily was tucked into one corner of a sofa, her mother in another. But the words meant nothing, spoken merely to break into the tense silence.

After all, neither of them moved towards Courtney to do anything to actually help her put on her veil, adjust her hair. Carly was nowhere to be found, and neither was her brother. Nothing new there. They were somewhere else, concerned about themselves just like they always were.

And Jason…

Jason was slipping away from her and had been for weeks. But that didn’t matter, she told herself, because it was clear Jason would go through with the ceremony. That he would marry her, and then maybe once that was over, Courtney could make him remember the beginning of their relationship. When she had made him happy.

If everyone else would just go away and stop reminding him of everything else, she knew he’d come back to her, and they would be happy together.

“Where’s Carly?” Monica asked stiffly. “You’d think since this was her idea she’d be here helping.”

“I’m not sure where she is,” Courtney said carefully. “Um, I think I need some help with my veil—”

“Oh, you know, I’m no good with that sort of thing. Can’t do anything with these fingers,” the award-winning cardiothoracic surgeon said without batting an eyelash.

“I’m clumsy as hell,” Emily said. “Better wait for Carly. She’s been married so many times, she probably has this down to a science. Though I’m glad she never figured out how to get Jason to marry her. Then you guys would really be weird. Two husbands in common. I mean, you already technically share them—”

Yeah, this was going to be a long night. Courtney looked at the filigree silver clock on the mantel across the room. Six-thirty.  Was it too soon for a drink?

She suddenly understood all too well how the Quartermaines could drive a person to drink. To drown out their voices—Courtney would gladly take a fifth of vodka.

“Why don’t I go find Carly?” Emily said with a bright smile. “Mom, want to help?”

“That sounds like a great plan.” Monica got to her feet and followed her daughter out of the room.

Everything would be fine once she and Jason were married. Jason loved her. She loved him. They were just…nervous. Or something. Everything would be fine.

Luke’s: Bar

Lucky grimaced as he wiped up a spilled drink on the bar with a soggy wet rag. “Claude!” he called to the back. “Your break is over—”

“Not for another ten minutes,” returned the lackadaisical reply of his father’s oldest and most reliable bartender.

Not that Claude showed him any goddamn respect even though Lucky was the only reason this place was still in business and that was only to make sure Lulu could pay her tuition at PCU in the fall. Bad enough she was living with Bobbie who was footing her daily expenses. Lucky wasn’t going to let his little sister hang out to dry, even though clearly their father was content to do so.  They hadn’t seen or heard from Luke in nearly six months—not since the day Luke found out Lucky was attending the police academy.

If he ever wanted any proof he’d fallen far short of Luke’s expectations of him—well, the lack of word since then told Lucky everything he ever wanted to know.

He was still Luke Spencer’s son, but not the way he used to be.  It was just one more thing the Cassadines had stolen from him.

Above the din of the music and crowd, he saw the front door swing open and Dante walked in. “Pour me a pint, my good man.” He grinned. “I survived my first day, and lemme tell you, that wasn’t a guarantee.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Lucky scowled. “My day started like shit and went straight down from there.”

“Oh, what? My cousin Vinnie not up to your standards?” Dante asked as he took the Rolling Rock Lucky offered.

“How many times you think you’re going to manage to say my cousin Vinnie today?” Lucky asked. “It’s not nearly as funny as you think it is.”

“Neither is Vinnie. He’s the least favorite son of my Ma’s least favorite sister.” Dante shrugged. “But he recommended me for the job, so I guess…”

“He’s lazy as shit,” Lucky muttered. “You would not believe how he half-asses his reports. We got a robbery today, right? This liquor store on Van Ess. He just hauls in the kids from the corners and starts harassing them into confessing. They did but there’s no way they’re guilty.”

“Well, at least you’re not Cruz and you don’t have to listen to eight hours of Capelli and Taggert trying to figure out to sneak into someone’s wedding. I mean, this is not what I thought I was signing up for.” Dante grimaced.

“What, you’re in it for truth, justice, and the American way?” Lucky said with a smirk. “It’s the PCPD. The cops who aren’t corrupt are generally just idiots.”

“You’re actually from this place. How could you go to work for them when you know what they are?” Dante asked, curiously. “I mean, I know what you said while we were in the academy, but I don’t think I really understood it until today. My guy never got out of the damn patrol car. He kept taking calls and then just telling dispatch everything was clear.”

Lucky hesitated, then shrugged. “You know about my mother, right? She had a breakdown last year because Scott Baldwin and the PCPD kept hounding her about her stepfather’s death. Baldwin was so sure she was covering for my dad that he pretty much drove her over the edge. That’s what they are. They’re bullies. They pick a suspect and go at them like a dog in heat.”

“Still—”

“After my mom lost it, my entire family fell apart. My dad went into the bottle, I lost my job at Deception because the new management didn’t want me.” He shrugged. “Nikolas, my brother, took my mom to London with my grandmother for treatment. I’m here, trying to make the club work, trying to take care of my sister, but Lu is running wild. Everything is going down the drain.”

“What does that have to do with you joining the force?”

“So, around Christmas, Baldwin has the nerve to come into my bar and ask for a drink. I went after him about what he’d done to my mother—” Lucky took a long pull from his beer, “I also told him the PCPD was a useless pile of morons who couldn’t find their balls if they were handed to them on a fucking silver platter. Baldwin told me if I didn’t like the job they were doing, why didn’t I try it? What, did it look easy? I don’t know. The way he said it made it sound like I couldn’t do it.” And the asshole had sneered while he said it.

There was one aspect of Lucky’s personality that hadn’t faded with time and brainwashing—the minute someone told him he couldn’t do a thing, doing it became all he could think about.

“You became a cop on a dare.” Dante nodded. “Fair enough. There are worse reasons.” He shook his head. “If it’s gonna be like this, I don’t think I wanna stay. I’ll get my experience, but—”

“I don’t know,” Lucky said after a long moment. “I mean, how long can they keep going like this? Eventually something has to change, right? Mac’s not going to get away with this crap forever. Citizens are gonna start to want change. If we keep our noses clean, wait for promotions—”

“Maybe we can change things? Nah, I’ve seen this movie. The good guys usually die in the end,” Dante joked. “I’ll get my rookie year under my belt, and then see if there’s something in Rochester or Buffalo. But you know, this is your hometown. I get it. You want it to get better.” He flashed a grin at pretty blonde at the other end of the bar. “Excuse me. I have business.”

Lucky dismissed him as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Yeah?”

“Lucky?” His brother voice sounded a bit distant, but it was definitely Nikolas Cassadine. “Hey.”

“Hey, Nikolas. What’s up? How’s Mom? Grandma?”

“Good, good. Hey, listen. Luke showed up here a week ago.”

Lucky closed his eyes “Damn it, why didn’t you call—”

“Because he was sober,” Nikolas said simply. “And I wanted to see if it would last. It has. I’m letting him stick around for a while.” There was a pause. “How was your first day?”

“Good. I guess. It’s what I expected mostly, but it’s a job. And something different.” Lucky hesitated. “He was sober?”

“He looked like the Luke I remembered from before. He says he’s serious about Mom’s recovery, and he wants to do what he can. So…I’ll keep you in the loop. Hey…did you know Elizabeth got married?”

Lucky grimaced. “I heard. How did you know?”

“I talked to Bobbie earlier. She gave me Elizabeth’s new number, but I just…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize how far apart we’d grown until…who did she marry? I’ve never heard of him.”

“Ric Lansing. He’s…not a great guy,” Lucky admitted. “Bobbie isn’t happy about it, but you know Elizabeth.”

“Yeah, she’s never taken anybody’s advice. All right, well…I guess I’ll call her and at least try to congratulate her.”

“It must be midnight there, Nikolas. Why are you still up—”

“Catching up on paperwork. I’ll talk to you later, Lucky.”

Lansing House: Living Room

The phone rang five times before the answering machine picked up. Ric’s voice greeted the caller, informing them that they had reached Richard and Elizabeth Lansing, but they weren’t available to take the call at the moment.

Not that Elizabeth had changed her name yet. Ric had brought her the paperwork the day after the wedding, but it remained incomplete upstairs in a drawer.

The machine beeped, and Nikolas Cassadine’s voice echoed in the room.

“Elizabeth. Hey. I, uh, talked to Bobbie earlier, and she gave me your new number. I hope it’s okay. She mentioned you got married, and I just—I found myself thinking about the last time we saw one another, and I couldn’t remember when it was. I miss you. I’ll be home for a couple of weeks soon, so maybe…I’ll try to call you back later. Congratulations.”

The phone clicked off.

Stretched out on the sofa, Elizabeth’s eyelids fluttered slightly but she did not move.

Queen of Angels: Courtyard

In less than an hour he would be a married man.

Jason took a deep breath and shook his head, turning back towards the church. He shouldn’t think of it that way—the idea of being married to Courtney shouldn’t leave him empty.

It should be different. It had been different. He’d proposed to her on his own volition, even if Carly had put the idea in his head. After all, he’d spent almost six months with Courtney. She’d put up with everything he’d thrown at her—a fake marriage to Brenda, a murder trial, car accidents, being kidnapped—she’d stuck by him through everything.

She understood his life.  He cared about her and knew getting married would make her happy, so why not?

Then why couldn’t he make himself cross the threshold into the church? Go meet Sonny and Michael at the end of the aisle so the wedding could begin?

It was probably because of Emily. His sister had made it clear she wasn’t happy about Jason marrying their brother’s ex-wife. And even though Emily hadn’t said much about Elizabeth—seeing her this morning weighed on him.

Elizabeth hadn’t looked well. Her eyes were shadowed with dark circles beneath them, her skin had been pale almost translucent, and she was thinner than Jason remembered. He knew that she’d lost a baby a month ago, but he hadn’t allowed himself to think about that.

She had married Ric despite everything they knew about him—despite what Jason had told her. She’d made her choice and so he’d put her out of his mind.

Until this morning, until Emily had looked at him with those eyes that asked why he wasn’t doing something to help Elizabeth. Not that he knew what he could do.

Elizabeth had stopped trusting him at some point, and he didn’t know how to get it back. If it was even possible. And the fact that he was moments from marrying another woman but was consumed with thoughts of Elizabeth was probably not a good sign.

“Jase? You ready? We’re going to get started in a minute.”

Jason turned to find Carly peering at him from the doorway. She started towards him. “Oh. Yeah. I was just…” He exhaled slowly. “Getting some air.”

“Some air,” Carly repeated quietly. “Listen. I know I bugged you about this earlier, but I think maybe I should—” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Maybe I pushed Courtney too hard at you. I—I know you were…” She grimaced. “Upset at how things turned out with Elizabeth, I guess. And maybe Courtney was, like, a rebound—”

“A rebound?” Jason echoed. “What—”

“When you hurt, Jase, you try to fill your time with something else. You used to go to Jake’s and get in fights after Robin—”

“Carly—” He couldn’t do this now. He couldn’t let her give him an out—he was almost tempted to take it. But there was no going back, no turning back time and doing something different.

“A-And I just wonder if maybe Courtney was just there. And she was hurting, too. And maybe it all got out of hand because of the trial, and then Sonny—” Carly put her hands up to stop him from talking. “You said it earlier. Courtney gets your life. Maybe. But Jase, c’mon…” She tipped her head. “Is that really enough to promise to spend the rest of your life together?”

Jason didn’t want to think about any of that. It was easier not to think about some things. He could live with the future he planned.  He’d do something to help Elizabeth because she was important to Emily, but everything else was off the table.

She’d taken it off the table herself.

He took a deep breath and looked at his best friend. “Carly, it’s done. C’mon, let’s go in—”

“I’ll be in in a minute.”

He hesitated but then nodded and went back inside the church.

Carly watched him go and wondered how much trouble she’d be in if she stopped the wedding. They might all be pissed at her, but—

She knew Jason hated when she meddled in his life, and God knew she’d done it one too many times over the years, so maybe she should just butt out. But if Jason went through with this wedding when his heart wasn’t really in it—if he was staying with Courtney because it was easier than being alone—

Well, maybe Carly should intervene just one more time. Lost in her thoughts, Carly didn’t hear the heavy creak of the church’s wooden front doors cracking open.

Or the footsteps crunching on gravel behind her.

“Mom?”

Carly turned to smile at her son in the doorway to the church. “Hey, Mr. Man—”

A cloth clamped over her mouth as an arm snaked around her waist. Carly inhaled a sickly-sweet scent as she felt herself being jerked backwards. She wrenched out of the grasp, lurched forward, but felt her hair yanked back and the cloth settled over her mouth again. She tried to kick her legs but already…her energy was fading.

“Mom!” Michael cried. He started to run towards her, but Carly was off her feet, being dragged backwards.

“Mommy!” 

The edges of Carly’s world begin to dim and then everything went black.

Queen of Angels: Chapel

Bobbie Spencer checked her watch and frowned. The ceremony should have started five minutes ago, but the doors to the back of the church were still closed. At her side, her son, Lucas, and niece, Lulu, were bickering about who would drive home since they were sharing the Ford Escort.

Bobbie got to her feet. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to see what’s keeping everyone.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas said. “It’s my turn to drive, Lu—”

“Ha! Only because I gave you my turn last week—”

“Why do you remember everything?”

Bobbie abandoned the teenagers and made her way up the aisle and into the anteroom where Jason and Sonny were talking. “Hey.” She approached them. “Is anything wrong?”

“Oh, no.” Sonny shook his head. “Courtney stepped on the hem of her dress and the heel ripped it. They’re just fixing it—” He looked at Jason, squinted. “Did you see Carly come back in?”

Jason frowned. “No—I thought she was with Michael.”

“Then where’s Michael?” Bobbie demanded. She pushed past them to go towards the bridal suite. “Is he with Courtney?”

“No, Leticia was going to leave him with Carly, so she could fix the dress—” Sonny looked at Jason. “But…I never saw Carly come back in. I thought she came in while we were in the back, but—”

Jason went to the doorway of the church and threw open the doors. In the courtyard, near the gates, Michael lay sprawled out on the gravel, sobbing.

All three of them rushed forward, but Bobbie was slowed down by her heels. Jason reached the little boy first and swept him up in his arms. “What happened?” he demanded, roughly, checking him over for scrapes.

“I—I f-fell!” Michael wailed. “I t-tried to stop h-him! But the bad man took Mommy!” He sobbed, throwing his head back, the tears streaming down his face.

Jason’s heart stopped as he set Michael on his feet and knelt in front of him. “What?”

“Jason,” Sonny said thickly, from a few away. Jason turned away from Michael to find Sonny standing just beyond the church gates, a pale purple heeled shoe in his hand.

Lansing House: Living Room

Ric carefully pushed open the door and breathed with relief—Elizabeth was exactly where he had left her thirty minutes earlier—sleeping on the sofa. He had worried over the dosage of Valium in the champagne—he had given her three more pills on top of the two he generally slipped in her food and drink.

He hated drugging her, but it was the only way to keep her calm. To keep her with him. To give her the baby she deserved. And when she had that baby, it would all be okay.

Elizabeth would love him again. She would be happy. She’d love the man who gave her the baby. She’d be such a good mother. So much better than Carly. If she could just give their new life a chance, she’d see it eventually.

Ric gently closed the door behind him and returned to the driveway. He opened the trunk, took out the portable wheelchair, unfolded it, and then wheeled it to the back passenger door.

Ric carefully lifted the unconscious Carly into the wheelchair and then wheeled her straight up the walk and into the house. He closed the door behind him, pulled the remote from his pants pocket, and watched as the wall slid back, revealing a hidden room with screens. He steered Carly across the room and into the panic room, pressing the remote again. The wall slid closed again, neatly hiding the small space from the rest of the room.

Ric laid Carly out on the bed and then attached the leg cuff to her right leg, hearing the metal clink and smiling in satisfaction. He switched on the screens in the panic room. He checked his watch, then opened the door again, walking into the living room and closing the panic room just as Elizabeth made a sound.

He had been cutting it close, and if Michael had recognized him, Ric expected Jason and Sonny to storm his door any minute. But he had carefully thought out this plan. He, of course, would be the primary suspect, but Elizabeth wouldn’t know he’d been gone. And whenever Jason had gone after Ric in her presence, Elizabeth had always defended him.

Her loyalty would clear him, and well, Sonny had so many other enemies. He planned to lay some false trails and some red herrings to distract everyone. He hadn’t planned on Michael though, and Ric wasn’t sure how that would complicate things. He’d planned on at least another twenty minutes before Carly’s absence was noted—maybe even an hour before Jason and Sonny came to him.

As long as Ric remained calm, stuck to the plan, this would all be fine.

Elizabeth murmured something and then started to sit up, pressing a hand to her head. “Oh. Oh, my head is killing me.”

“Hey, Beautiful. Your headache didn’t go away?” Ric murmured as he sat on the sofa beside her. “The champagne was probably not a great idea—”

Elizabeth blinked at him, her pupils so dilated that only a thin ring of blue was visible. “Headache?” she said. She licked her lips. “I don’t feel so good—how long was—was I asleep?” she asked, her words slurring.

Damn it. Had he given her too much? Had mixing the pills with the alcohol been a mistake? If Jason Morgan showed up now, there would be no hiding Elizabeth’s condition—Damn that little gremlin for being where he wasn’t supposed to be! He had to get her more alert. Had to get her out of sight.

“Ric—how long—was I asleep?” she repeated. She tried to stand but swayed. Fell back onto the sofa.

“Just for a few minutes,” he lied. “You dozed off. You haven’t been sleeping much these last few weeks, you know. I guess it caught up with you.” He slid his fingers through her silky chestnut hair. “Why don’t you take a hot shower? I know it’s summer, but it might help.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth licked her lips again. “Yeah, okay.” She rose to her feet again and this time, she managed to remain standing. “I’ll just—I’ll be upstairs.”

“Okay.” Ric watched her go slowly, her hand bracing along walls and banisters as she climbed the stairs. He took a deep breath. Okay, the steam and water ought to clear some of the fogginess. He needed Elizabeth to be clearer. Firmer.

She was his alibi after all.

He waited until he heard the water turn on upstairs before opening the panic room again. Carly should be waking any moment now, and he wanted her to see him.

To know that she and Sonny were finally going to pay for everything they had stolen from him, from Elizabeth.

This was righteous.

This was justice.

It’s on your face; is it on your mind?
Would you care to build a house of your own?
How much longer, how long can you wait?
It’s like you wanted to go and give yourself away
Heaven forbid you end up alone and don’t know why
Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow, you’ll be alright
– Heaven Forbid, The Fray

________________________

Friday, June 19, 2003

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Elizabeth Webber pasted a smile on her face as Georgie Jones set a plate of French toast and sausage in front of her, then an omelet and wheat toast in front of her best friend, Emily Bowen-Quartermaine.

This was a happy day, Elizabeth reminded herself. Her best friend in the entire world was in town for a weekend, and Elizabeth desperately needed her cheerful and bright-eyed nature.

Except that Emily was rolling her eyes about the wedding she had come to town for and her idiot brother’s ridiculous choice of a second wife. Like he hadn’t made a terrible choice the first time, right?

Elizabeth managed a weak smile as she sipped her orange juice.

“Oh, ugh, I’m tired of talking about Jason being an idiot.” Emily cut up her omelet and waved her fork at Elizabeth. “You need to tell me everything you haven’t been saying over the phone.” Her best friend’s dark eyes peered at her. “Tell me about the new husband—and what is it with this town and quickie marriages lately? Both my brothers got married and divorced before I could even find out where they were registered, and you’re married to a guy I’ve never met—”

“Oh.” Elizabeth smiled. “Ric is…he’s good. He’s a lawyer, you know. Um, criminal law. He was working for Sonny and Jason for a little while, but it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Emily hesitated. “Listen, Mom—she called to tell me that you’d had a miscarriage. She was…she thought you might not tell me.”

Elizabeth sighed, put down her fork. “Yeah. I—I was pregnant. For about…” A brief shining moment. “I was about two months along, but I—I fell. And yeah.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “I’m okay.”

“Uh huh.” Emily pushed her egg around her plate with her fork. “You don’t have to talk to me, Elizabeth. No, cancel that.” She leaned forward, lowered her voice. “I wanted to…I wanted to try to pretend for you. I know you want that. You want to stick your head in the sand—”

“Emily—”

“You think because I haven’t been home for two years that I’m an idiot?” Emily rolled her eyes. “A year ago, my brother married this girl. A year later, she’s marrying Jason, and AJ is off in New Orleans trying to put his life back together. Plus, I distinctly remember my mother calling me last fall to tell me you were living with Jason—”

“Emily—”

“I didn’t press you for details then. I figured if you want to talk about it, you’ll tell me. I didn’t want to butt in. God knows I did that too much with Lucky when he came home.” Emily pursed her lips. “So, I let it go. And I let you say nothing in phone calls.  Nothing in your letters and emails. When you bothered to send them at all—”

“Emily—”

“I come home, and you’ve lost weight. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. You look miserable, Elizabeth. I know you just had a terrible tragedy, and I just—you don’t have to pretend for me.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes when Emily finally lapsed into silence. What could she say to her best friend? Why had Emily chosen this moment to finally…look at Elizabeth and see her?

“I am…struggling,” Elizabeth said finally. “I—I—” She hesitated. “I’m not going to talk about what happened with Jason. Or Courtney. I can’t.”

“Okay, but—”

“Ric is…” Elizabeth paused, searching for the right words. She didn’t want Emily to worry about her. Maybe if Emily wasn’t going back to her summer program at UCLA in two days…maybe Elizabeth could feel free to say more.

But Emily wouldn’t be here.

And there were still some things Elizabeth didn’t want to think about it.

“Ric is a choice I made when I thought—when there was a baby involved. But I made it, and I can live with it.”

“You can live with it,” Emily murmured. “That’s not marriage, Elizabeth. You deserve more.”

“I deserve what I have for a lot of reasons. Don’t worry about me, Em. You’re here for a happy reason. You know, Jason is getting married, and—” Elizabeth stopped.

There were some things she couldn’t fake.

“Yeah, my brother is marrying his brother’s ex-wife.” Emily raised her glass in a mock toast. “Awesome sauce. Let’s drink to that.”

“Emily—” Elizabeth shook her head. “It was…complicated.”

“I don’t know how complicated it has to be since the ink on their divorce is barely dry,” Emily muttered. She stabbed a fork towards Elizabeth. “If I find out they were cheating on you and AJ—”

“Emily—it’s not…” Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s over now. That’s—it’s complicated.”

“Oh, my God. That’s what happened. Are you freaking serious? What the hell—”

“Emily, it wasn’t—like that. Not exactly.” Damn it. “Okay, listen. I don’t—yes, I was at the penthouse for a while, but it wasn’t about…I mean, Jason and I were—we weren’t really together. We…talked about it. But it just…it got derailed by other stuff. And I don’t know what was going on with Courtney. I don’t know. Maybe she was—” Elizabeth sighed. “It wasn’t that simple. Please, please, don’t bring this up to either of them. I already—I embarrassed myself enough when—”

Her eyes burned at the memory of confronting Courtney in Kelly’s. Going after her. The way Jason had defended Courtney had stopped Elizabeth from ever asking when it had actually started.

Wasn’t it obvious?

“Please.”

Emily sat back and huffed. “Fine. It’s not my thing to get pissed about, I guess. I’m just—ugh. I should have come back to PCU instead of transferring to UCLA—”

“I miss you so much, Em. I can’t wait until you come back home in August.” Elizabeth reached across to take her hand. “And I love how much you love me. But Jason is your brother. And his choices matter. He…obviously loves Courtney. It’s—” It was the only explanation. “So please, tonight, be his sister. Not my friend.”

“Yeah, okay. But I’m still gonna be AJ’s sister, so I can’t promise anything.”

Elizabeth asked her a question about California and was able to distract Emily for almost twenty minutes. She pushed her food around her plate and listened to Emily talk about college and how hard she was working.

“Oh.” Emily straightened. “Jason! Hey!”

Elizabeth closed her eyes as Emily got to her feet and rushed around Elizabeth—likely to hug her brother who had obviously come up behind them at some point. There was a sour taste in her mouth as she contemplated turning around. She wanted to disappear—just stand up and walk away.

Thank God Jason hadn’t arrived earlier.

She took a deep breath, gathered herself. She could do this.

She was good at this.

Elizabeth took her wallet out of her purse and tossed a ten on the table to cover her breakfast before standing and turning to flash a bright smile at Emily’s brother.

Jason Morgan stood there, looking much as he had the year before in a pair of blue jeans and a dark T-shirt. His arm was loose around his sister’s waist and he was smiling a little.

“Hey.” Elizabeth tucked her hair behind her ears as she slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Congratulations.”

Jason’s smile dimmed slightly as he tipped his head, his forehead slightly wrinkled. “Elizabeth. Hey. Um, thanks.”

“We were just eating breakfast—” Emily scowled. “Liz, why did you put down money—”

“Oh, I have to get going. I’m done anyway.” Elizabeth smiled again. “And I know you guys must want to catch up before things get crazy later today.”

“Yeah, but—”

Elizabeth managed to keep the smile on her face as she looked at Jason again, but their eyes met. Held for a moment. “I—I wish you happiness, Jason.” She cleared her throat, fixed the strap higher on her shoulder. Again. She desperately wanted to have something to do with her hands.

“You don’t have to go,” Jason said, stepping forward, his arm falling from his sister’s waist. “You haven’t seen Emily either—”

“I know, and I’ve missed her, but—” Elizabeth looked at Emily. “You’ll be back in two months for good a-and you know, I’ve waited this long. I really do have to go. We just—” She swallowed. “We moved last week, and I haven’t really unpacked.”

And then the interest slid from Jason’s eyes at that reminder. She’d married Ric. A man Jason hated more than anything in the world.

“Congratulations, and good luck tonight.”  And then Elizabeth hurried from the courtyard, not looking back.

Emily stared after her before looking back at the table. “She didn’t eat anything.”

“What?” Jason asked, frowning. “What—”

“We’ve been here for almost a half hour.” Emily gestured at their breakfast plates. Her own plate was half-eaten, but all Elizabeth had really done was cut her French toast and move the pieces around her plate. “She’s lost weight, did you notice?”

“I—” Jason’s shoulders squared, and he squinted. “Yeah, I saw. She…she lost a baby a few weeks ago, Em. She’s probably not doing well.” He looked away.

“Probably?” Emily arched her eyebrows. “I thought you were guys were friends.”

“Emily—”

“By the way, not that I’m gonna rain on your parade or anything, but you should know my loyalties are divided about this wedding.”

Jason closed his eyes. “About Elizabeth? Listen…”

“Who said anything about Elizabeth?” Emily asked, innocently. “I was talking about the fact you’re marrying AJ’s ex-wife. And hey, how solid are you that the divorce is legal? You know us Quartermaines.” She batted her lashes. “We lie.”

Port Charles Police Department: Locker Room

It was his first day as a police officer.

If anyone had told Lucky Spencer as a teenager that he would have worked his ass off in the academy to get to this point, well—he would have smirked and flipped that person off.

But he was here. Starting the next chapter of his life.

Lucky grinned when he saw the dark-haired New York native who had the locker next to him. “Hey! I didn’t know you were gonna end up here.”

His roommate from the academy, Dante Falconieri, flashed a returning smile as he buttoned the crisp blue uniform shirt. “Yeah, well, I was waiting on a few places. I wasn’t wild about going back to Bensonhurst and trying to pretend I had some authority. Most of my family would laugh in my face.”

“Cruz is starting today, too,” Lucky said, with a nod. He tugged his t-shirt over his head and tossed it in the locker. “I got assigned to Major Crimes with your cousin.”

“Vinnie?” Dante said with a wicked grin. “Good luck. He’s an asshole. I got Major Crimes, too, but I’m stuck on patrol with some guy who looks like he ate his weight in donuts.” He frowned slightly.  “Where is Cruz? He better not be late on his first day—”

“Oh, he’s got a later shift” Lucky shrugged. “Jason Morgan is getting married tonight, so I guess they’re…I don’t know, worried about it.” He snorted. “Glad I don’t have that detail.”

And hoped he wouldn’t be asked to work any case with people he’d known once. The whole point of this job was a new start. A new life. Putting the old Lucky Spencer behind him.

“Yeah, I do not hear good things about the Organized Crime Unit.” Dante laced his shoes. “But, hell, no one stays at the PCPD for their entire career. You put some time in the streets, get some experience and then go somewhere where the senior officers aren’t a bunch of idiots.”

Lucky picked up the badge he’d been issued the week before after his orientation, then clipped it to his breast pocket.  “I mean, if Taggert, Capelli, and your cousin can do it—” He shrugged. “Hey, how hard can this be?”

District Attorney Wing, Municipal Building: Scott Baldwin’s Office

Over a cup of coffee, Scott Baldwin perused the list of new recruits Commissioner Mac Scorpio had sent him earlier that day. A grant from the state had allowed them to hire three new police officers, but they’d had to be pulled from the ranks of the local police academy.

Scott’s eyes fell on one name. Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Jr. Assigned to Major Crimes under the supervision of Detective Vincent Esposito.

“So, he really did it,” Scott murmured. “I’ll be damned.” Luke Spencer’s son would be fighting on the right side of the law—Scott would believe that when he saw it.

“Mr. Baldwin?”

He glanced up to find his secretary standing at his door, an expectant look on her face. “What is it, Barb? Did I forget an appointment?”

“Your 9 AM meeting with Kelsey Joyce for the Major Crimes division—”

“Right, right.” Scott turned away from his computer monitor and the email and rose from his desk. “Bring her in.”

“He’ll see you now,” Barb said as she turned back to someone outside. She stepped aside, and a young brunette entered, dressed in a slim black pencil skirt with a black blazer over a cotton candy pink shirt.

“Mr. Baldwin,” Kelsey Joyce said, flashing a bright smile, her brown eyes glowing. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Kelsey,” Scott said, extending a hand. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since you graduated high school, though that wasn’t so long ago, huh?” He gestured for her take a seat at the small conference table. “How’s your mother?”

“She’s good.” Kelsey sighed, and now that light dimmed slightly. “Still misses Dad. And she said thanks for taking me on here—with Lee and Gail so nearby, she won’t worry about me as much.”

Oliver Joyce had been a close friend of Scott’s from high school through law school, but they had been in and out of touch over the years. His death almost a decade ago had been a shock for everyone who loved him.

“Gail is always looking for someone to worry about, so she’ll be happy to add you.” Scott sighed. “I wish I hadn’t lost touch with your father. He was a good man. Always encouraged me to follow my conscience. I usually ignored him, but sometimes, you know I still hear him in the back of my head.” He smiled at her. “He’d have been proud of you. Graduating high school at sixteen, passing the bar at twenty-three. His brilliant daughter.”

“Well, I hope I can live up to him.” Kelsey folded her hands in her lap. “Your secretary said I’d been assigned to Major Crimes—”

“Yeah, yeah. We had, um, a meeting with the mayor last month—the commissioner and I are old friends, and we work closely together. It seems the mayor’s office is unhappy with the lack of priority Major Crimes gets—”

“Well, it’s Port Charles. You share a water border with Canada.” Kelsey shrugged. “I understand that organized crime would take precedence—”

“And we’re not taking our focus off that, but we’ve been having trouble keeping officers at the PCPD. Frustration over those priorities. Feeling neglected. We need to do more for the rest of Port Charles. I promised I would do more when I got elected.”

“Okay. So, is that where I’ll be working?”

Scott hesitated. “I know this might seem insane, but our resources are limited. We only have one another attorney assigned to Major Crimes—Danielle Simmons—but she’s on maternity leave. For the next two months.” And had given some indication that she planned to go into private practice within the next six months for a better schedule, but Scott didn’t think that was the best news he could give her right now.

Kelsey blinked. “Wait. Does that mean I would be—”

“For the moment, yeah, you’re basically running Major Crimes.” He sighed. “I told you. We’re crap at priorities in Port Charles.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Ned Ashton leaned back in his chair, then shifted, crossing one leg over the other. “Brooke, I know you’re not happy—”

His nineteen-year-old daughter rolled her eyes and huffed. “Oh, yeah? What gave it away?”

“This is going well,” his younger brother, Dillon, said to him. While his tone was upbeat, his face remained stoic. “I’m glad I canceled my plans to be snarked for an hour, but you know I got a busy day ahead of me to be yelled at by anyone else—”

“Who invited you anyway?” Brooke Lynn retorted. She snorted. “Nothing is gonna make me okay with being stuck here in this backwater with a bunch of hicks when I could be at home—”

“Where you were failing out of Columbia?” Ned asked. “Getting arrested?”

Brooke groaned. “Oh, God. It wasn’t that bad. I was just with some friends—”

“Who were shoplifting.”

“One bottle of wine.”

“Your mother and I decided you need a change in scenery—”

“Do you need me for this?” Dillon asked, leaning forward. “Because, seriously, I could go.”

Ned glared at his brother. He’d brought the idiot along because Dillon was only a year older than Brooke. He was supposed to be the mediator. He was supposed to speak Brooke’s language.

But no one spoke Brooke’s language clearly, and Ned was obviously being punished for not being as hands on with his daughter as he would have liked.

“Brooke—”

“You and Ma sicced Grandma on me,” Brooke interrupted, her dark eyes flashing with irritation. “You know what she’s like. How am I supposed to tell her no? But I’m nineteen, Dad. You don’t get to run my life. You couldn’t even do that when you were supposed to.”

“That’s a fair point,” Dillon said to her. “I got one of those, too. I met him once. When I was, like, ten. I think. Maybe I was nine—” He screwed his face up in concentration, and Ned knew his story-telling loving brother could go on for hours once he was on a tangent.

“Dillon,” Ned said, flatly. “Go away.”

“Gone.” Dillon jumped up and moved to the counter where his girlfriend, Georgie, was serving Maxie and Lucas Jones.

“I can make my own friends, you know.”

Ned sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to bring Brooke to Port Charles for the summer, to give her time to settle in and make some friends before transferring to PCU for her sophomore year.

But the little girl he remembered had transformed into a sulky young woman who wore too much eye makeup, too much jewelry, and too little clothing. He didn’t know this girl.

He didn’t know how to know this girl.

And he hated himself for letting Lois take the lead on raising her, and Lois for leaving him for no reason at all. But Brooke was his daughter, and he had to make the effort.

“Alexis wanted to have us over for dinner this weekend. To celebrate finishing her therapy and getting custody of Kristina back.” Ned eyed Brooke. “Can you at least join me for that?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Brooke shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do? Go to the movies?” She rolled her eyes. “God, I miss New York.”

Ned rubbed the back of his neck and felt very guilty when his phone vibrated, and he was relieved at the opportunity to talk to someone else. Anyone else. He flipped it open. “Yeah?”

“We need to talk. Immediately.”

Ned grimaced at the sound of Faith Roscoe’s voice. The universe was obviously punishing him for granting his wish, because this he did not need. “I’m busy—”

“We’ve got a problem. You know where to find me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Ned closed his phone and slid into the pocket of his trousers. He dropped a twenty on the table. “I have a meeting—”

“Well, that took five seconds.” Brooke got to her feet. “Are you gonna take me back to the gatehouse or am I stuck here?”

“Dillon,” Ned said, twisting towards the counter. “Can you drop Brooke at the house—”

“I need a car. This is never gonna work—”

“Oh, yeah,” Dillon said with a sigh. “That sounds like a great time. Let me just stop my life and take care of yours.”

“Great. Thanks. You’re the best brother.”

Queen of Angels: Chapel

Carly Corinthos grimaced at the floral arrangements alongside the pews down the aisle. “I thought these were supposed to be yellow,” she said to the wedding planner.

“They were,” the woman said with a harassed smile and clenched teeth. “But the bride called last week to change them to pink. Said money was no obstacle.”

“Oh.” Carly frowned and looked back at the tulips. “We didn’t—All right, it’s not my wedding, I guess.” She signed the last piece of paperwork from her. “All right. I guess that’s everything until later tonight.”

She dismissed the wedding planner from her mind and went to find Jason, so he could take her back to the penthouse where she’d arranged several hours of massages, hair dressing, and makeup before the ceremony at seven that evening.

She found Jason in the anteroom going over the final security arrangements with Father Coates. She hung back until Jason had shaken the priest’s hand.

“You ready to go?” Jason asked. He crossed his arms and looked away from the inside of the chapel where in a few hours, his wedding would begin.

“Yeah, everything is fine here.” Carly smiled at the priest who had performed her wedding to Sonny the year before, and then followed Jason into the courtyard.

Because she was a bit worried about Jason’s…lack of excitement, she decided to inspire him a little bit. Cheer him up—though why he’d need that on the day of his wedding…

She wound her arm through his as they made their way to the parking lot, bouncing a little on her feet. “I can’t believe you’re getting married tonight, Jase! It feels like you just got engaged.”

“Yeah, it does.” He drew his brows together and looked away.

Carly slid a look at him under her lashes as they approached the SUV Jason had driven them in. “You know, I know you’re stoic and everything, but it’s okay to be excited. You’re getting married.”

“I know.”

She put out a hand to stop him from opening the passenger door for her and looked at him.

He looked like he always did. Spiky brownish-blond hair, average height, clad in his usual jeans, a t-shirt stretched over a muscled chest.  But there was nothing in his eyes. No excitement, no interest. Just…nothing.

Jason had never been a man prone to much expression, but if you wanted to know how he really felt about something, you looked him in the eyes.

“Jase…” Carly bit her lip. “Listen, I know—” She turned to face him, and he just sighed. “I know maybe it was possibly my idea for you to propose—”

“Carly—”

“And maybe I encouraged you to ask Courtney out, but that was just because I didn’t want you to get back together with Elizabeth, and you know she doesn’t get you anyway. I mean, God, she married Ric after everything we told her about him. If that doesn’t—”

“Emily is here for the wedding,” Jason interrupted. “And she doesn’t like Courtney. I met her for coffee this morning, so—”

“Oh.” Carly closed her mouth. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, she’s probably the last person in the world that likes AJ, so I guess you marrying his ex-wife…” She shrugged. “Are…are you sure that’s it? I mean, look—if you’re having second thoughts—”

“I’m not.” Jason brushed her hand away from the door and opened it. “I asked Courtney to marry me. You’re right. She’s Sonny’s sister. She understands what I do. I knew what I was doing when I asked her. And that’s it.”

“And you love her,” Carly said with a smile she didn’t feel at all. “So, okay. Let’s go back to the penthouses so we can get ready.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “In five hours, you’ll be a married man!”

This time, Jason did smile at her.

But it didn’t change the expression in his eyes.

She climbed into the passenger side, and he closed the door after her. She’d done what she could—she’d given him an opening to tell her if anything was wrong, and he hadn’t taken it.

So, she’d do exactly what Jason had always asked her to do and stay the hell out of it.

Lansing House: Front Porch

When she had left breakfast earlier that morning, she had not gone home to unpack. Instead, Elizabeth had gone to her studio, turned on the small television she always kept there and wasted her day watching daytime soaps and sleeping.

She couldn’t sleep at home, spending hours awake at night next to Ric. Next to her husband. Wondering what happened to her life.  How she had ended up married to a man she didn’t love any more than the one she had left at the altar over a year ago.

So, she spent her days at her old studio, pretending to get ready for a one-woman show that Ric had arranged at a local gallery. Elizabeth kept pushing off the date, kept saying she wasn’t ready. Since she hadn’t picked up a pencil or brush in nearly two months, it was unlikely she would be ready any time soon.

But she couldn’t keep ignoring her life. Couldn’t keep running away from her choices. Everyone else had moved on with their lives.

Emily was pursuing her dream of becoming a doctor, Nikolas was staying in London as Laura recovered from her nervous breakdown, Lucky had started a new career as a police officer, Zander had left for a new start in Florida, and Jason…

Jason was getting married.

Like she had.

It was over. It had never really existed. Hadn’t she had proof of that over the last year?

So, Elizabeth made a promise to herself. She would go home, and she would try to live the fresh start Ric wanted to give them. He had gone and bought a beautiful home for their new future. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to be a better person.

At six o’clock that evening, Elizabeth opened the front door and accepted Ric’s kiss and the offer of champagne to celebrate their first week in their new home.