Written in 21 minutes. No editing. Set 2018ish. Sam left town after divorcing Drew. Franco and Elizabeth broke up after one of his many lies. Pick one. Doesn’t matter.

The sound of his cell phone jerked Jason Morgan out of sleep. Never a deep sleeper, he rolled over and reached for the phone on his nightstand, already alert and fully awake.

He saw his ten-year-old son’s face flashing on the screen before Jason pressed the accept button. “Jake?” he demanded. “What’s wrong—”

“You have to—Dad—”

There was a grunt, a crash, and then the line went dead.

Jason forced himself to take a deep breath and opened the app to locate his son’s phone even as he was pulling on his jeans and shoving his feet into boots. By the time he’d reached the street in front of his apartment building, the app had located Jake’s phone at his mother’s house.

Exactly where it should be at 1:13 AM on a Wednesday night in the middle of June. Jason hissed and called Elizabeth’s phone, putting his car into drive.

Elizabeth never answered. Neither did her older son, Cameron.

He didn’t know who else to call—there was no one else—Elizabeth had only moved to the house the month before and didn’t know her neighbors. Her grandmother had passed away, and Jason hadn’t been back in Port Charles long enough to know who else she was close to.

He’d been gone too long and too much had changed. He didn’t know her life anymore.

Still, he didn’t panic. Elizabeth’s phone might be off. Jake might be playing a prank. Cameron might have had his phone taken away for punishment. It could be anything.

And then he turned the corner onto her street.

Even before her house came into view, Jason saw the flashing blue and red lights. The black and white cop cars parked haphazardly in her driveway and lawn. The ambulance out front.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since Jake had called him—had the police already been there? Already on their way?

He parked a few houses away and climbed out his car.

And then saw the stretcher leaving Elizabeth’s house, the black body bag stretched out. His heart began to pound.

“You can’t come any closer—” An officer threw up his hand as Jason started to push past the police line. Jason forced himself not to throw the man into the row of cars—that wouldn’t help anyone—

He needed to know who was in the bag. Where was his son? His brothers?

His mother?

Where was Elizabeth and her kids?

He frantically searched the scene, hoping to find her or one of them. He looked for Cameron’s and Jake’s blond heads, Aiden’s dark curls—

Elizabeth’s chestnut brown.

“My son lives there!” Jason retorted as the cop tried to push him back. “He called me in the middle of the night—”

The officer’s eyes sharpened. “What? You talked to one of the kids?” He turned and waved a hand. “Chase!”

Harrison Chase, a recent transplant to the PCPD, turned from talking to a man in a pair of pajamas. When he saw Jason, his eyes widened and he quickly moved over to them. “Jason Morgan? How did you know—”

“He said he got a call from one of the kids—”

“Jake,” Jason interrupted the officer. He focused on Chase. “Jake called me, but he just told me to come—then the line went dead.” He tugged his phone out of the pocket. “You can look for yourself—” He pulled up the recent calls.

“Came at 1:13,” Chase murmured. “Lasted 30 seconds—half of it was probably waiting for the connection—”

“What happened?” Jason demanded roughly. He grabbed Chase by the lapels of the jacket, finally out of patience. “Where is my son? Where’s Elizabeth and her kids?”

“No, no—” Chase barked at the officer who’s hand went to holster. “Relax—” He put his hand over Jason’s and met his eyes. “I don’t know where the boys are, Morgan. They’re missing.”

“No—” Jason released the cop, finally feeling the flickering edge of panic. “No, that’s not possible. Jake was here ten minutes ago—”

“We think the oldest kid took the younger ones and left,” the cop volunteered. Chase glared at him. “What?”

“What do you mean? Where’s—”

Jason looked again at the body bag as it was loaded into the ambulance. A chill spread in his chest. His muscles tightened up. “Who’s dead? Damn it! Tell me it’s not Elizabeth—”

“Tell me!” He repeated on a growl, dragging Chase back up his jacket again. “Where—”

Then he saw her. A petite brunette leaving the house, her hair disheveled, her face pale. She looked straight ahead.

“Elizabeth!” Jason released Chase immediately, almost throwing him aside as he broke past the police line and ran up the walk. “What—”

Then he saw the silver at her wrists, the hand of a cop on her arm. He stopped dead, almost not understaning what he was looking at.

She looked at him, her eyes black pools against her face, her pale skin the color of chalk lit under the harsh street lights. “Jason,” she managed.

“What the hell is going on? Where are the boys?”

“I can’t—” Her voice trembled. “I did—”

“No—” With a sudden rise of dread, Jason sliced his hand down in front of him. Because whatever she was being accusd of, he knew she hadn’t done it. Whoever was in the bag—

This couldn’t be her fault. Not Elizabeth. If the boys were missing—

“Say nothing. I’ll call Diane,” Jason ordered her. He turned back to Chase as the cop loped up to the join them. Not caring if it put him in the cell right along with Elizabeth, Jason grabbed Chase again by the jacket. “Who’s in the bag?”

Chase exhaled, but again waved off the cops who almost jumped forward to drag Jason away. “Franco Baldwin. He’s dead.” He nodded to Elizabeth who just closed her eyes. “And she killed him.”

Jason blinked at him, shaking his head, then looked back at Elizabeth, taking in everything he hadn’t seen before.

The splashes on her tank top, the torn strap—

The blood staining her hands.

She lifted her chin. “Damn right, I did.”

+8

Written in 20  minutes. No time for edits.

Jason scowled and paced in front of the interview room of the PCPD, stopping every few seconds to glare into the window as if he could force Chase to let him into his mind.

“Any words on the kids yet?” Dante Falconieri asked quietly. Jason turned, fowning at his business partner’s son. “We’ve got an APB on Elizabeth’s car but it hasn’t hit yet.”

Jason shook his head and looked back at the window as a pale, exhausted Elizabeth put her face in her hands. Diane Miller, his attorney, put a hand on her shoulder, and said something Jason couldn’t hear to Chase and Jordan Ashford sitting across the table.

“You think she did it?”

Jason met Dante’s eyes. “I don’t care if you’re Sonny’s son. I’m not going to say anything to you without a lawyer.”

Dante shrugged. “Okay. Your kid is out there, missing, but I’m the bad guy—”

Jason ignored him and stared through the window again, his muscles tensing as Elizabeth started to cry. Jordan got to her feet and faced him into the window, raising her brows.

Then the door opened and the commissioner stepped out, a scowl on her face. “She says she won’t answer any questions until she can talk to you,” Jordan told Jason.

Without another word, the woman stalked off towards her office. Jason went into the room where Chase was gathering up his papers.

“Before you go, Detective Chase, I need you to uncuff my client,” Diane demanded. “Now—”

Chase grimaced but leaneed over to unhook Elizabeth’s cuffs from the table. He still left the silver bracelets on her wrists. “That’s as much as you get—”

“I don’t care, Diane—” Elizabeth began.

“Uncuff her now,” Jason said flatly. “She’s not going anywhere—”

“I need some questions answered,” Chase cut in. “Where are the kids? Why was Franco at your house tonight? Until I get some answers, she stays in the cuffs. You have five minutes to talk to Jason,” he told Elizabeth. “Then you’re going to be booked. So I’d think carefully about what happens next.”

“You know, I thought I was going to like him,” Diane muttered when the cop had left, slamming the door behind him. “I take it back.” She twisted in her seat. “Talk now—”

“It’s not important,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head. “I don’t care what happens to me—” She turned her attention to Jason. “Cameron’s in my car with the boys. I told them to head for Canada. He has my old flip phone for emergencies. I told the cops he doesn’t have a phone—”

“I’m not hearing this,” Diane muttered as she pushed away from the table.

“Elizabeth—”

“I need you to call Cameron,” Elizabeth told him. “He knows not to answer the phone for anyone except for me or you. I—” Her eyes darted away, nervous for a second, then looked back. “You’ll help him, won’t you? I mean, with the boys—all of them—”

“Yes,” Jason took her trembling hands in his. “Elizabeth—”

“Call him. Find them, and then I need you—” She licked her lips, looked at Diane, then dropped her voice. “And then I need you to get him out of the country. Somewhere no one can touch him. Until this is over, okay? Until I’m sentenced—”

“Wait—” Jason shook his head. “No—”

“You have to—” She squeezed her eyes. “This is my fault. All my fault. I have to protect my boys. So until this is over, I just—I need you to help me. I don’t—” Her voice faltered. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to them—I need them to be okay. I need them to stay together. You—you’ll keep them together, won’t you?—”

“Hey—”

“Jason, we don’t have a lot of time,” Diane said, tapping her watch. “I’m still not listening, but whatever we do, we have to do it quickly. They’re claiming she confessed.” She glared at Elizabeth. “You know for someone who’s been hanging around Jason Morgan since she was a teenager, you sure don’t act like it—”

“Shut up, Diane—” Jason dismissed his irritable attorney, and focused on Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, I’ll get you out of this—”

“No, I don’t care about me, I just care about the boys—”

“I care about you, and so do they.” Jason looked at her for a long moment, then looked down at her hands. Her hands were stained with blood, and the rips he’d noticed earlier were evident. But now he saw the torn fingernails, and the scratches on her cheek. He exhaled slowly.

And her instructions echoed in her mind. Get Cameron out of the country. Somewhere with no extradition.

Cameron. Not Jake or Aiden, but Cameron.

“Whatever happens,” he told her, “I’m not letting you or Cameron—or any of the boys—pay for this—”

“I let him into our lives,” Elizabeth choked out. “I did this—”

“And I should have ended it a long time ago,” he said quietly. “I thought I had. So I’m going to fix it. Promise me you’ll cooperate with Diane.”

“I—” Elizabeth looked over at Diane. “You said that they had my confession—”

“I can work around that, but Elizabeth, it will be much easier to deal with this if the boys were here in Port Charles,” Diane told her. “So let’s get you out on bail and Jason can bring them home.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Okay. Okay. Call Cameron. Bring them back. I’m sorry, I panicked—I just wanted them safe—”

“They will be.” He kissed her forehead, looked at Diane. “I’ll call you when we find them.”

+8

Written   29  minutes. No time for edits.

Cameron Webber was not a rule-follower. It was impossible to be the son of Elizabeth Webber, to be raised by her, and not decide that most of the time, rules were made by idiots and they should be broken.

She’d always taught him to follow his gut, to follow his heart, and to trust himself because the world would let him down a lot but it would be okay as long as he knew what he was doing was right.

And Cameron had let that direction guide him his whole life—all sixteen short years of it. Which was, somehow, he found himself barreling down a highway with his brothers in the backseat and him with nothing more than a learner’s permit.

Aiden had been crying when they first left the house, and Jake had been mad because his phone had fallen in the scramble to get to the car, and it had broken. His mother hadn’t let him go back to it, promising Jake they’d call for help as soon as they got where they were going.

Jake and Aiden didn’t even really know what had happened — they’d been sleeping, and then when the screaming and crying and yelling had started, they’d huddled in their shared room, ending up hiding in closet.

Cameron and their frantic mother had hustled them past her bedroom, down the stairs, and out the door before Jake and Aiden could even really understand what was wrong. Cameron had hoped there wouldn’t be any questions until they got where they were going —

But then Aiden had remembered his mother’s tears, and the headlights of truck in the oncoming lane next to them had flashed on Cameron’s knuckles—scratched and bleeding. He’d started crying again.

Jake, the resolute kid who’d already seen too much in his short life, had unhooked his seatbelt and hugged his younger brother, protecting him the way Cameron had failed to protect him.

Never again. His mother had told him to take his brothers and run, and he hadn’t thought twice.

His cell phone rang, and the screen lit up on his mother’s dashboard, the Bluetooth connection proclaiming that Jason Morgan was calling.

Cameron exhaled slowly, and Jake leaned forward, frowning at the screen. “That’s my dad! Answer it! I was calling him and he must have seen it!”

Jason was the only person his mother told him they would be able to trust, but sometimes her judgment on trusting men was shit, so Cameron ignored the phone call.

“We’re not where we’re supposed to be yet,” Cameron told him. “We’ll call him when we get over the border—”

“But—”

“Sit back, Jake, and put your seatbelt back on.” Cameron pressed on the pedal of the car, ignoring as the phone kept ringing. Then it went silent for a minute before lighting up again. He grimaced. Jason was just going to keep calling.

“Cam—”

“Okay, okay—” But Cameron couldn’t peel a hand off the wheel—couldn’t make himself look away from the highway for even a section and they were in a stretch with no exits.

Jake climbed over the seat and settled into the passenger seat, pressing the answer button on the dash. “Dad!”

“Jake? Are you with your brothers?” Jason Morgan’s voice didn’t sound panicked, didn’t sound nervous. Maybe he didn’t know—

“Yeah, yeah, where’s Mom? Did you see her? Is she okay? I’m okay. We’re okay,” Jake said, touching the dash like it was his father—as if he was just comforted by the sound of his voice.

“Your mother is okay. She’s worried about you. Cameron? Are you there?”

Cameron swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Your mother wants me to bring you back to Port Charles.”

“No, she said—”

“She was upset, and she just wanted you safe.” Jason paused for a moment. “Find the next exit, Cameron, and I’ll come to you.”

“I—” His hands trembled even as he clenched the wheel more tightly. “I can’t. I can’t until they’re safe. I can’t stop. I don’t know—”

“They’re safe, Cameron. I promise you. It’s okay to come back.”

Cameron badly wanted to listen to him, wanted to believe him. But he knew that nothing was okay. “Jason—”

“Cameron, I need to you to find an exit and pull over. I need to talk to you.”

He swallowed. “Is it about Mom?”

“Dad?” Jake leaned forward again. “You said Mom is okay—”

“She’s okay—”

“I want Mommy!”

“Cameron,” Jason said again, his tone implaccable, unmoveable. Unshakeable. Maybe he was someone he could trust. His mother had always said that, and the only time Jason had ever let them down was when he’d gone away.

“Okay. I’ll find an exit and call you back.”

“Okay. Stay on the line with me,” Jason told him. “I’m on the highway now, I’m probably about a half hour behind you.”

So Cameron didn’t hang up, even though they didn’t say anything else for the ten minutes it took Cameron to find an exit ramp. He pulled into a resting spot, picked up his phone, and switched the connection to a private call.

“Stay inside the car,” Cameron told his brothers. He stepped out of the car and turned his back on the gas station, not wanting any cameras to catch him. “Jason?”

“I’m twenty minutes behind you, Cameron. Can your brothers hear me?”

“No.”

“Okay. Your mother is at the PCPD. She confessed to murdering Franco.”

Cameron’s stomach dropped, rolled. “What? Why? She didn’t—”

“I know. But you know your mother. No one comes before you and your brothers.”

“You can’t let her—you can’t let her do it—”

“I’m working on that, but she won’t do anything until you boys are safe.”

“Safe,” Cameron repeated. He dragged his free hand over his face and through his hair. “Sure. Just—I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Just make sure my mom is okay. My brothers and my mom. That’s all I care about.”

“I promise you, I will find a way to make this okay for all you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Cameron said and hung up.

+8

Written in 20  minutes. No time for reread or typos.

Jason was relieved when Jake and Aiden agreed to drive back to Port Charles with Max in the SUV while he took Cameron in Elizabeth’s car. He wanted some time with Elizabeth’s oldest son away from the younger boys.

If Elizabeth wouldn’t tell him what had happened that night, Jason was going to get the bottom of no matter what. He had a terrible feeling that they had begun to repeat the same mistakes Jason and Sonny had made nearly ten years ago with Michael.

He hugged Jake one more time before closing the door. “I’ll see you guys at my place,” he told Jake through the window.

“You’ll make sure Mom and Cam are okay?” Jake asked. He swiped at his nose. “I don’t know what happened, but they got in a fight with someone, and my phone broke—”

“They will be okay,” Jason told him. “Take care of your brother. Thanks again, Max.”

“Anytime. Come on guys,” Max said, as he put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Jason turned back to the other car and the sullen teenager sitting in the passenger seat.

Jason got into the driver’s side and started the car, but didn’t put it into reverse. He looked over at Cameron’s hands. The knuckles were bruised and scratched. He could see a black eye blooming on the teen’s face.

“Do you remember Claudia Zacchara?” Jason asked.

Cameron blinked at him, turning his head. He wrinkled his face in confusion. “What? Uh. Yeah. Yeah. She—” He scrubbed his hands over her face. “Yeah. I remember her. She kidnapped Carly. And Michael—”

His voice faltered. “Michael killed her to protect Carly.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “And it was self-defense, but I made the mistake of thinking I could protect Michael from all of it. We covered it up. Sonny and I tried to make it go away. And it made Michael look more guilty.”

“He went to prison.” Cameron looked at him “So did you. I remember Mom crying about it.”

Jason exhaled slowly. He’d made Elizabeth cry a few times over the years. “Whatever happened—”

“I killed him,” Cameron said flatly. “Is it normal not to care? Because I don’t. I’m glad. I’d do it again.” His eyes were fierce now, flashing with that same light he recognized from his mother—and maybe some of the recklessness of his father. “You should have done it a long time ago.”

“Yeah. I thought I had,” Jason muttered. He finally put the car into park and pulled out of the spot. “How did it start?” he asked.

Cameron was quiet for a long time—Jason wasn’t sure he’d say anything, but once they’d pulled onto the highway and were headed back towards Port Charles, he finally spoke. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t there when it started. I was—”

He grimaced. “I was sneaking back in. I was out with Joss. And Oscar and Trina.” He stared at his hands. “That feels like a thousand years ago,” Cameron murmured.

“Has Franco been coming around a lot since your mother moved?”

“I don’t know that either,” Cameron admitted. “Mom—you know, she takes forever sometimes to see how terrible people are, but usually once she makes up her mind, she cuts them off. You know, like Lucky. And Nikolas.” He waited. “After she found out Franco was lying about who you were—how long he’d known—he moved out. And I didn’t really see him around.”

“Okay. Then why was he there last night?” Jason asked. On the left side of the car, the sun started to peek out over the horizon.

“I don’t know,” Cameron repeated. “I was just—I was trying not to make any news, and I went past my mother’s room—” He swallowed. “And I heard—I heard a weird muffled something—then I knew—I heard crying—so I went to the door and started to push it open—”

Jason’s knuckles clenched on the steering wheel. “What happened then?”

“Mom was on the bed and she—her mouth was gagged—Franco slapped her and was on top of her trying—” Cameron swallowed hard. “She was struggling, trying to get him off her—”

Jason pressed the pedal down harder and the car lurched forward. “Did he—”

“No, I don’t think so. She, ah—” The teenager’s voice roughened. “She was still dressed. “But I don’t know. I just—I saw red. I reacted. I shoved him off her, shoved him into the wall and started punching him. And he was—we were just fighting, and I guess Mom tried to stop him from—”

Cameron touched his throat. “His hands—” He exhaled slowly. “Mom—she’s tiny. I mean she’s strong and all, you know, but it doesn’t mean—he just picked her up like a doll and threw her into the wall. She didn’t get up right away, so I went after him again. I grabbed something—I don’t know—a baseball bat, I think. Mom always keeps it upstairs.”

He exhaled slowly. “I hit him and he fell back. He hit his head on the corner of the dresser and laid there. Mom got up and took the bat from me, then she—she was scared he wasn’t dead. So she told me to get my brothers out of there.

“He’d tied them up in their rooms,” Cameron continued. “Aiden untied himself first, I think, and called 911. It must have been Aiden, because Jake would have called you sooner.”

“You just—you hit him with the bat once?” Jason repeated, frowning.

“Yeah, and then he hit his head. But it was my fault—”

“That’s not how he died.”

Cameron stared at him. “But—”

Jason stared at the road ahead of him. “He was stabbed repeatedly with a butcher knife in the kitchen. They found him in the kitchen. Not the bedroom.”

+6

Written in  20  minutes. No time for edits.

Cameron stared at Jason’s profile, then swallowed hard. “W-hat? No. That’s not—”

“Damn it,” Jason muttered. He flicked his eyes at the teen, then back at the road. “How—this doesn’t makes sense.”

He thought back to his conversation with Elizabeth, with the wildness in her eyes, the desperation—

Had she stabbed Franco? Then why had she sent the boys away? For their safety? Why hadn’t she just told him she’d done it—

“It doesn’t make sense,” he repeated. “Your mother wanted me get you out of the country. She said it was her fault. She wasn’t lying then. It was just us and Diane.” He shook his head. “She couldn’t have killed him.”

He frowned. “You said Jake and Aiden were tied up. That Aiden had gotten free and called 911. When did Jake call me? The timeline doesn’t make sense—”

“I don’t—” Cameron exhaled slowly. “I didn’t know they were tied up at first. They were already free when we were getting in the car. Jake was trying to call you when Mom was putting us in the car.” He furrowed his brow. “His phone slipped when he was getting in the car. It broke.”

“When did you found out the boys had seen Franco? That he’d tied them up?”

“After you’d called. When we were waiting for you to show up.” Cameron scrubbed his heads over his face. “Jake told me. Aiden learned how to tie knots in Boy Scouts—”

“If Jake called me as you were leaving—the police were already on their way. And Franco wasn’t in the kitchen then. You’re sure he was upstairs in the bedroom?”

“Mom must have—he must have been downstairs when she—” Cameron squeezed his eyes shut. “I wanted her to come with me. I was scared he wasn’t dead, but she told me to go. And I had to protect them.”

“Cameron, I’m not blaming you—but if you didn’t stab him—and I don’t think your mother did—” Jason grimaced. “Who could have done it?”

“It had to be Mom. He probably tried to attack her again. Maybe she just blocked it out. After everything she’s been through. You know, with that guy, Baker?” Cameron cracked his knuckles, then rubbed them, restlessly. “It probably brought it all back. I mean, he stalked her just like, two years ago—”

“What?” Jason snapped. “Tom Baker’s out of prison?” He swore. “Damn it. 2016,” he muttered. “Ten years. She told me it would be another ten years—”

“He’s dead. His brother killed him, but it was rough on Mom for a while. That’s when she told me who he was.” Cameron looked out the passenger window. “Wish you’d been here. Drew was crap. But he was pretty terrible after he found out he was supposed to be you. I liked Jake Doe better.”

“Cameron—”

“It must have been Mom,” Cameron repeated. “She was probably just worried that PCPD would try to go after me, too. For, like, running or something.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out when we get back into town.”

“It’s Franco,” Cameron muttered. “Everyone wanted him dead at some point. Wouldn’t it be harder to figure out who didn’t have a motive?”

“Yeah.” Jason flicked the turn signal for the ramp up to the highway. “I’ll take care of it, Cameron.”

“If Mom killed him, he deserved it. And you better get her out of the country if they try to put her in jail,” Cameron said fiercely.

“It won’t come to that—”

“Jason—”

“But yeah, I’m not letting her go to jail for it. Not when I should have done it six years ago,” he muttered.

——

Framing Elizabeth for Franco’s murder hadn’t been the plan, but once in a while, an opportunity dropped into a person’s lap and it would be silly not to take advantage of it.

In a room somewhere in Port Charles, a woman carefully washed the blood from her hands and looked at her face in the mirror, at the tired eyes and scratch on her cheek.

She’d left town to find herself, and decided that she’d spent a lot of time letting people get away with hurting her. She’d forgotten who she used to be—

She’d left town when her supposedly beloved husband had begun to warm up to Franco, when he’d seen some good in him—

Well, fuck that.

She’d spent too many years letting that man breathe the air.

Sam Cain raised her eyes to the mirror again and let her lips curve into a smile. It had been a bonus to finally get her revenge on Elizabeth for stealing Jason away from her all those years ago, for lying about Danny and lying about Jake Doe. Elizabeth deserved whatever happened to her.

And it went without saying it was about time that Franco paid for his sins.

+7

Written in  22   minutes. No time for typos.

As Jason pulled the car into a parking spot at his apartment building, his cell phone rang. He looked at Cameron. “It’s Diane.” Because he thought Cameron had earned it, he put Diane on speaker phone.

“Hey, Diane. I just got back to town with Cameron. Max is behind me, maybe five minutes with Jake and Aiden.”

“Oh, good. Good.” His lawyer sounded slightly distracted. “I’m calling because I called in every single favor I’ve had with all the judges, including some of yours, and I’ve got Elizabeth an arraignment hearing at 8 AM.”

“That’s in an hour,” Jason said. Without looking at Cameron, he continued, “Which judge got the assignment?”

“Richardson.”

“Okay. I have some calls to make. Thanks.” Jason closed the phone, looked at Cameron. “You can stay for this next part,” he told Elizabeth’s son, “but I’m going to commit a felony.”

Cameron’s smile was thin, his eyes wry. “Yeah? Cool. I think I’ve commited more in the last twelve hours than one.” He sat back against the seat, putting a hand over his eyes. “Which is never something I thought I’d get to say to Jason Morgan.”

He had his mother’s gloomy sense of humor, Jason thought as he called the clerk’s office. “Jimmy? Tell Richardson we’re even if Webber goes home.” He waited a minute, then hung up.

“That’s it?” Cameron frowned. “That’s all it takes? He’ll know?”

“He’ll know,” Jason said. He got out of the car as Max pulled into the parking spot next to him. He went to the passenger’s side to get Jake and Aiden.

“They fell asleep about ten minutes ago,” Max told him. “You want some help getting them upstairs?”

“Yeah.” Jason tossed his keys to Cameron. “I’m on the third floor, Apartment C.” He unbelted Jake and lifted his son into his arms, a pang of regret that with his eleventh birthday behind him, he was already too big to carry.

Max took care of seven-year-old Aiden, and the five of them trudged towards the building.

Once Jake and Aiden were settled in Jake’s bunk bed, Max left and Cameron was alone with Jason again.

“How do you know he’ll do it?” Cameron asked as Jason brewed a pot of coffee. “What if he doesn’t?”

Jason thought about the judge who liked to hire escorts in groups of two and three, and the wife and children he had at home. “He will.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Cameron insisted. “I mean, we can’t stay here forever.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t think about what happens next. Mom told me to go, so I went. But she confessed. They might not let her take it back. If she goes to jail—” He looked towards the bedroom. “What happens to us?”

Jason hesitated, because he didn’t know. “That’s not going to happen—” he started, but Cameron clearly wasn’t in the mood for that.

“I’m not stupid, Jason. Bad things happen all the time. You can’t fix everything. If you could, Franco wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Cameron winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—’

“You’re right.” Jason looked at him. “I don’t know what happens to the three of you if your mother isn’t here to take care of you.” He hesitated. “I know that before—before Jake’s accident, she left custody of the two of you to me. She wanted you two to stay together. That was before Aiden was born. Laura might have taken over as guardian.” His lips tightened. “Or someone else from the Spencer family.”

“Oh.” Cameron closed his mouth. “I guess you’d get Jake, then. And Aiden would go to Grandma Laura or something, like Spencer.”

“Your mother might have other plans now. It’s been a long time since she could depend on me.” Jason hesitated. “But she can now. So can you.” He gestured down the hallway. “You want to sleep? My room is down the hall or you can take the couch—”

“I can’t sleep. I want—I need to see my mother.” Cameron shook his head. “I know you said the judge will let her go, but—”

“But you need to see for sure. Understood.”

An hour later, Diane called again — Elizabeth had been released on bail. Jason had already arranged to pay for it. Within thirty minutes, Diane had brought Elizabeth to the apartment.

She didn’t look much better than when Jason had left her five hours earlier, but she was relieved to see Cameron. Mother and son rushed at each other, and with a start, Jason realized that Cameron now towered over his mother—

He’d grown up. Just like Jake. None of them were little boys he’d known once.

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth murmured. She took Cameron’s face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Cam.”

“It’s okay, Mom.” Cameron’s voice broke, and he sounded for a moment like a small child again. “It’s okay. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

He hesitated. “Mom, Jason told me Franco had—that he’d been stabbed. I didn’t—I didn’t do that.”

“Stabbed.” Elizabeth frowned. She stepped back, looked at Diane and Jason. “What are you talking about? He—he fell and hit his head.”

“No one told her?” Jason asked Diane sharply.

“Told her? Why would? She confessed.” Diane planted her hands on her hips. “Are you—”

“I didn’t kill him,” Elizabeth said. “I—” She swayed slightly, then looked at Cameron. “Oh, God, you didn’t do it either. You didn’t—”

“But then how the hell did he die?”

Diane frowned, then strode forward. “Elizabeth—at any point before Cameron left the house, were you hit in the head?”

Elizabeth turned, looked at her with bewilderment. “What?”

Jason saw what Diane was looking at—at the slight blood trail at Elizabeth’s hairline. “You—” He touched her face. “You were bleeding earlier. I didn’t think to ask—”

Diane pinched her lips together. “Elizabeth—”

“I don’t—I was in the living room—and the boys were gone, and I was going—” She looked at Jason. “I was going to call you, but then I—” Her hands fluttered up to her head. “I fell. Didn’t I?”

“Aiden had already called 911, because the cops were at the house by the time I got there. You didn’t calle them. Neither did Jake or Cameron. It had to be Aiden—”

“Unless someone knocked Elizabeth out, stabbed Franco, and called the police themselves.”

+7

Written in 21  minutes. No time for typos or edits.

Elizabeth put up her hands and took a deep breath. “I need—I need to slow down. I need—” She looked at Jason. “I need to sit down,” she admitted.

The last ten hours of her life had been the worst of her life—from being woke in the dead of the night, fighting for her life and sanity—for her children—terrified that her choices had led to one of her son having to live with killing someone—

Only to learn that everything she thought had been happening was a lie.

She closed her eyes, took another breath. Her boys were safe. That was all that mattered in the end.

She felt a hand at her elbow as Jason gently steered her towards the sofa and guided her to sit down. “Just…” Jason hesitated. “Relax,” he said, but the way he said the word suggested he knew exactly how insane that sounded. “Let’s just all take a second and regroup, okay?”

“Is there coffee?” Diane asked, the lines in her face more prominent than usual. She’d been up all night, Elizabeth remembered, helping her. “I think we’re going to need it.”

Jason sat next to her, and Cameron took the other side. She looked at him again, at her little boy who looked so grown up—there was something in his eyes that said he wasn’t the boy he’d been yesterday. He’d grown up over night, and she was all too aware how something could destroy everything you thought about yourself.

She’d never wanted that for her boys—but this was her fault.

“Let me get you something to eat,” Jason told her. “You should rest, sleep—” He took her hand in his, wrapping her smaller fingers in his own. “We can deal with this when you’re stronger.”

“No, no, I won’t be able to sleep until we—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. She looked at Cameron again. “Does he know what happened?”

“He knows everything I know,” Cameron told his mother. “You—you said I could trust him—”

“Of course,” Elizabeth assured him. She turned to her son, facing him fully. “There aren’t a lot of people I would say that about, but Jason will always be one of them.” Her smile was thin. “But I know I don’t have a lot of credibility right now—”

“Mom—no, don’t—” Cameron shook his head. “You’re not the only one who thought he was different. We all did.”

Diane returned with two cups of coffee, one for herself and one for Elizabeth. She arched a brow at Jason. “My empathy only goes so far,” she murmured. “Now, let’s—let’s take a minute and start from the beginning. Now that you know you don’t have to protect Cameron.”

She opened her notepad. “According to Detective Chase, they received a 911 call at 1:05 AM. What time did Jake call you?” she asked Jason.

“1:13 PM,” Jason answered. “But the line went dead after I picked it up.”

“His phone fell while we were getting in the car,” Cameron told his mother. “Remember? You told him there was no time—that you’d call Jason when you got inside. So we went in.”

“The cops arrived on scene at 1:20 PM,” Diane continued. “That’s seven minutes.” She tipped her head. “They were delayed due to traffic on Quartz Lane and overnight construction. I don’t have the transcript of the call yet or the recording—”

“I thought Aiden called, but that timing wouldn’t match,” Cameron admitted. “Jake told me they were tied up, and that Aiden’s knots were looser so he got them both free. “I got home aa little before one.”

“It all happened so fast,” Elizabeth murmured. “I don’t understand. Who called 911?”

“We’ll know when we get the information. But I need to know what happened after the boys left,” Diane said. “What was the plan?”

“I didn’t know the cops were coming,” Elizabeth admitted. “I, u—” She looked at Jason. “I was going to call you. I thought—” She blanched.

“You were going to ask Jason to get rid of the body,” Cameron said as Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes burning with tears. “It’s okay, Mom. You don’t have to protect me anymore.”

And there was something about that statement that quietly shattered her. The tears slid down her cheek again, and she couldn’t stop them. Diane shifted, uncomfortably as Elizabeth struggled to get herself under control again. She was just so tired of everything.

“You didn’t call me,” Jason said, drawing her attention after a long moment. “Why? What happened?” he repeated Diane’s question.

“I went inside, and then—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I fell—” She touched the back of her neck, at the base of her skull. “Or something hit me. I don’t know.” She closed her eyes. Forced herself back into that terror—

Running inside, her skin like ice, rushing for her phone, trying to dial—then blinding, white light—pain—

She looked at her knees, left bare by her cotton shorts. They were scabbed, the blood having dried. “I fell,” she repeated. “Something hit me—and I fell on the ground.”

Jason took her leg in his and she shivered at his touch, her fingers warmer than her cool skin. “These are scrapes from being dragged,” he told her and she didn’t question how he’d know something like that. “Someone hit you and dragged you. Where did you wake up?”

“The next thing I remember is the living room—I was standing there, and there was an officer shoving his flashlight in my face, asking me if I was high, and who killed Franco. I didn’t even think—I didn’t know—I just said it was me.”

“And Franco was dead in the kitchen. You left him upstairs, on the bedroom floor while you got the boys out of the house,” Diane said. “And while you were outside with them, Franco came down stairs, someone called 911, hit you in the head, and killed him.”

“But—but maybe it was me,” Elizabeth insisted. “Maybe—”

“Someone dragged you across the floor—you must have scraped your knees on something—and Franco was stabbed to death. Someone was with Franco last night,” Jason insisted. “He wasn’t alone.”

“Someone waited while he tried to—” Elizabeth pressed her fist to her mouth, then lurched off the sofa and ran to the bathroom, barely reaching it before she vomited.

+6

Written in 21  minutes. No time for eidts.

Cameron jumped off the sofa to follow his mother, but Jason stopped him — holding his hand up. “Wait, just give her a minute.”

“But—”

“Hey.” Jason looked at teen’s wild eyes, saw the fatigue and worry there. He’d been through more in the last ten hours than any sixteen-year-old boy deserved. “Do me a favor. Talk Diane through any questions or details she has. She’ll be your lawyer, too, if it comes to that.”

“I just—my mom—”

“I’ll take care of it.” Jason scowled when he heard a knock at his door. He didn’t miss the Towers and their highly secured lobby often, but on days like this— “Wait here.”

He strode across the room and threw open the door. “Carly—”

“I came as soon as I saw the news—” Carly pushed past him and went straight for Cameron. “You’re okay? It was all I could to keep Joss at home—”

“I’m—” Cameron swallowed. “I’m fine.”

“Carly, this isn’t a good time—”

“No, I know. But I saw the news about the murder, and Elizabeth’s arrest—” Carly turned back to him. “The reports said the boys were missing—”

“Misunderstanding,” Diane said smoothly, rising to her feet and patting her hair as if she were wearing one of her finely tailored outfits rather than jeans and a cardigan. “It’s been sorted. Jake and Aiden were here last night, and Cameron was out past his curfew.”

Carly narrowed her eyes, looked at Cameron, down at the hands she held in hers—the bruised knuckles. “Right. Should I be asking Joss about this curfew?” she asked him, and Cameron blinked.

“I—”

“It’s fine, Carly. Joss doesn’t have to get involved,” Jason promised her. “But I really need to—”

“Okay. Okay. I was just—” Carly exhaled slowly. “What do you need? What can I do?”

“Why—” Jason frowned at his friend. Why was she asking him?

“My mom needs clothes,” Cameron said quietly and all the adults looked back at her. “I know Jake probably has things here, but—” He exhaled slowly. “Mom’s still wearing what she wore to bed.”

“Oh. I can handle that. I can do that. I’ll bring things by for all of you. No telling when they’ll let you back in the house.” Carly hugged him briefly. “I can keep Joss and the others away for a few more hours, but if you could just text her—”

“I’ll—I’ll try.”

“Let me know if I can do anything else, but I’ll bring something back.” Carly hugged Jason, then left. He frowned after her.

“She likes me more than Mom,” Cameron said, and Jason turned his attention to her. “Joss and I—I mean, we’ve always gone to school together, but we—it doesn’t matter.”

“Right. Cameron, why don’t you and I discuss last night to make sure I have everything I need, and Jason—” Diane looked at him. “Go check on Elizabeth. She needs sleep.” She sighed. “We all do.”

Jason left Cameron in Diane’s capable hands and traveled his short hall to the bathroom. He knocked lightly. “Elizabeth—”

“Go away—”

He glanced back at the living room, then sighed. “Can we just—let me make sure you’re okay. Are you—can I come in?”

There was silence for a long moment, and Jason struggled with the desire just to shove the door open, to see for himself—

Cameron’s depiction of the scene he’d walked in on—the fact that Elizabeth with her history, had been assaulted again by a man Jason should have cut into tiny little pieces and set on fucking fire—

“Yeah.” He heard a sound that must have been the door unlocking. She opened it slightly. “I can’t—”

“I know. You need sleep,” he told her. Elizabeth opened the door more, and he walked her down to his bedroom. She seemed to have hit her limit—her eyes were empty, her hands listless, and she let him guide her into the room and close the door.

“Carly is going to bring you clothes,” he told her as she sat on the bed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I don’t understand how any of this is happening,” she murmured. Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes glassy with tears, with shock. “I went to bed last night, and it was fine. My life—it was okay. I was getting there anyway.” On a deep shuddering breath, her shoulders shook.

Jason sat next to her. “Why don’t you try to rest—”

“I can’t. I can’t. Because I close my eyes, and he’s there again, and I can’t—” She put her hands over her face. “I made a mistake. I thought—I thought he was different. But no one ever changes. Not like that. Why did I think I could change him?”

He remained silent because his opinion on Franco was well-known and wouldn’t help.

“I thought he was out of my life—I—he’d just lied so much—and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be a liar. I can’t be lied to.” She bit the nail on her thumb, wincing—he could see she’d bitten the nail to the quick.

“Did he—” Jason hesitated. “Cameron said he was trying—” He paused. “Should you go to the hospital?”

“Oh.” She looked at him blankly. “Oh. No. It wasn’t—He was—” She looked at her pajama pants, and he saw now that the string that tied them closed had been ripped—that the elastic had been destroyed and it was being held together a rubber band.

He crossed to his dresser and took out a t-shirt, one that he knew would be long enough to cover her. “Here,” Jason said, roughly. “Carly will come back with something—”

“Thanks.” Her lower lip trembled. “He tried to rape me,” Elizabeth said finally — and while Jason might have expected the statement to upset her more—something about saying it out loud seemed to give her more reassurance.

“He said that he was going to make me remember how it had been, and that no one was allowed to leave him.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It didn’t happen, and that’s going to help when I can think better, I know that. I just—if I didn’t—if I didn’t kill Franco, then it means someone else was at the house.” She searched his eyes. “Who would do that? Who would wait while he tried to rape me, then kill him—”

“And leave you there to pick up the pieces,” Jason finished. “Whoever did this called the cops, Elizabeth. They wanted you to pay for it.”

“Who could hate me that much?” Elizabeth asked. She closed her eyes. “I can’t—I can’t believe someone could do that to me. To my boys. He tied them up, and someone else let that happen—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I can’t think about this anymore. I just—” She twisted her hands in his shirt. “Can I just change? And—and when Carly brings me something else—I just can’t stand to be in this anymore—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He squeezed her hand and got to his feet. “Try to lay down. If you can’t sleep, that’s fine. But the boys will wake up soon—”

“And I need to handle this.” Elizabeth managed a smile that looked almost real. “Thank you. I can—I can do this.”

“I know you can.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll take care of Cameron.”

+5

Written in 23 minutes. No time for typos or edits.

When Jason checked on Elizabeth ten minutes later, she was curled up on her side and fast asleep. Relieved she was going to get some rest, Jason left the door partially ajar so he’d hear her if she woke up. Then he checked on Jake and Aiden, who were still asleep. They’d been out about four hours at this point, so he knew they’d be waking soon.

He hoped Elizabeth was ready to talk to them — Jason really didn’t know how much they should know or what to do next.

“Cameron,” Jason said when he came back into the living room. “Why don’t you take the other bed in Jake’s room?” he said. He sat down next to him as Diane put away her notepad. “Jake and Aiden are sharing the bottom bunk. You can take the top.”

“I couldn’t—” Cameron shook his head. “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s what your mother said,” Jason said. “She laid down and now she’s asleep. Come on. You need to rest.”

“Just lay down for a few hours,” Diane told him. “I need to contact the PCPD anyway.” They all got to their feet as Cameron reluctantly nodded. “I had them cancel the APB when you picked up the boys, but we’ll need to figure out what to tell them. And if you’re pulled in for questioning, Cameron, I want you alert.”

Cameron scrubbed his hands over his face, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He looked at Jason, hesitant. “You’re sure Mom is sleeping?”

“Yeah, I am. I’m here if she wakes up. I’m not going anywhere,” Jason promised. Even though he knew he should check in with Sonny, Jason didn’t plan to leave this apartment until he was confident Elizabeth and the boys were okay.

“All right.” Cameron nodded. “All right. I’ll try to get—or at least I’ll be there if Jake or Aiden wake up.” His voice trembled slightly on those last words. “What—what do I say to them?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “We’ll—we’ll deal with it when we have to.”

He watched Cameron disappear down the hallway, then heard the bedroom door gently close a moment later. Jason looked back at Diane. “What do you think?”

“I think we might run into a few problems because of Elizabeth’s actions after it happened,” Diane admitted. “She sent the boys away before Franco was murdered in her kitchen. That looks guilty. Like she got rid of them to finish the job.”

“She didn’t—”

“You and I know that, Jason, but they already matched her fingerprints to the knife. Now, we have a great case for self-defense with Cameron’s statement. We can argue that Elizabeth came back in to call the police but was attacked again—except—”

“She doesn’t remember anything. But—someone else was there, Diane.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sort through his thoughts. “Who?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” Diane said, slowly. Her dark eyes met his. “And you’re not going to like my answer.”

Jason frowned at her. “Diane?”

“The list of people who hate Franco? Endless.” Diane shrugged. “The list of people who wanted Franco dead? Nearly as long.”

“I know, but—”

“But—and hear me out—we have two possibilities. One — Franco went to the house last night with a partner. A look out. Or Two, someone followed Franco there, and took their opportunity to get rid of Franco and frame Elizabeth.”

Neither of those possibilities were good ones. Jason sat back down, clasped his hands between his knees and looked at her. “You have someone in mind.”

“I do.” Diane perched at the edge of the chair and studied him. “Franco has very few friends in this town—that probably does not surprise you. There’s Ava Jerome. Her daughter, Kiki. And his father, Scott.”

Jason hesitated. “I don’t know Kiki that well, but I can’t—I can’t see Ava or Scott helping Franco—”

“Really?” Diane lifted her brows. “You don’t think Ava Jerome would do something like this? You really haven’t been here that long—”

“I know she’s capable of violence,” Jason said flatly. “But everything Sonny and Carly told me happened more than a year ago. The woman I know risked her life to help me escape. I don’t see her turning around and putting kids in danger, putting Elizabeth in danger, to help Franco attack her.” He shook his head. “No.”

“Fair enough. She wasn’t on my list either.” Diane tipped her head. “And I agree with you about Scott. So that’s possibility one out of the way. Which means we need someone who hated Franco enough to kill him as well as someone who didn’t mind Elizabeth and her family being terrorized. Didn’t mind Elizabeth paying for his murder.”

Jason stared at Diane for a long moment, then shook his head again. He shoved himself off the sofa with another shake of his head. “No.”

“I don’t enjoy this possibility either, Jason, but the list of people who do not like Elizabeth? I can count that on my hand and skip fingers. There are two people in this town that activey dislike her. And only one of them has a history of terrorizing her.”

Jason dipped his head, took a long breath. “It can’t be here. She wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t do what, Jason? Watch as Jake was kidnapped?” Diane sighed. “Hire men to scare Elizabeth and her children with guns? You haven’t even been here long enough to know what Sam could do. She also had an illness last year that—well, she tried to kill Sonny and almost killed Drew. She’s supposed to be in recovery from that—” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jason. But unless you can think of someone else that hates Franco and Elizabeth the way Sam does—”

“It could just be opportunity,” Jason said roughly. “Someone who wanted Franco dead and didn’t care—”

“That’s true,” Diane allowed. “That brings us back to a very long list of suspects. I suppose we’ll have to see how this turns out. But let me—” Jason looked at her sharply and she held up her hands. “Let me just ask Spinelli to look into Sam quietly. I know she left town a few weeks ago, when Drew filed for divorce. Let me just make sure she’s where she’s supposed to be and hasn’t left.”

Jason finally nodded, then sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.” He looked down the hallway where Elizabeth and her boys were sleeping. “I don’t—I can’t believe she’d do it, but it’s better to know for sure.”

——

Elizabeth only slept for another hour. Then she showered and changed into the clothes Carly had sent over. By then, Jake and Aiden had woken up and were in the living room, playing video games.

Aiden had asked a few questions about why Franco would tie them up, but Jason had managed to avoid answering them. Laura Spencer had called a few times, asking about Aiden—but Jason had, again, deflected.

When Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair clipped up, she looked a bit better even if there were still dark circles under her eyes.

She accepted hugs and kisses from her boys, and smiled faintly at Jason. “Thanks for making sure Cameron slept. Can—” She jerked her head towards his small kitchen. “Can we talk for a minute? Jake, Aiden, can you guys go back to your game?”

“Mommy—” Aiden began, but Jake took his brother by the shoulder.

“Sure, Mom. We’ll be right over here.”

“What’s up?” Jason asked, his voice pitched low as they stood by the sink, the furthest they could get from the boys.

“I—” She sighed. “I was in the shower—and I remembered something.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I came back into the house—and I fell—but something hit me. And then—then I remember being dragged.”

She stared at her hand. “I tried to run,” she murmured. “Or at least crawl, but someone grabbed my hair and yanked it back. I turned over, and—I think—I saw who was there.”

Jason held his breath, searched her eyes. “Who?” he asked quietly.

“I—I don’t know. It was a woman. She was a small, but I can’t—” Elizabeth shook her head. “ I can’t bring her face—”

But she was lying. He knew it. He looked away, towards Jake, the little boy who’d been kidnapped once while she watched and knew the truth.

“It was Sam, wasn’t it?”

+6

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“It was Sam, wasn’t it?”

Jason’s quiet question had Elizabeth looking away, folding her arms, and staring at the floor. When the face, the voice had flashed into her head during her shower, Elizabeth had been convinced that she was wrong.

And by the time she’d gotten out of the shower, she’d also persuaded herself that Jason would never believe her.

But she’d told him anyway, because maybe the strange flash would explain something—

She hadn’t expected him to look at her with reluctant acceptance—as if he almost expected her answer.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said finally. “I remember Sam. But that doesn’t mean—”

Jason looked away, then nodded. “It makes sense,” he murmured. “In a horrible way. It’s not like we don’t both know that Sam, when she feels justified, is capable of cruelty.”

“And you think she’d be justified in not only killing Franco, but letting me go down for it?” Elizabeth said, her throat thick. She looked away, tears stinging her eyes. She’d forgotten—somehow, in all the craziness—

She’d forgotten that Jason’s last memory of her would be that lie. That terrible, haunting lie about Danny. She hadn’t just kept Sam’s child from her—she’d ended up keeping Jason’s son away from him.

And maybe that had occurred to him—

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Jason said flatly. “I said she’d feel justified. Not that she’d be right.” He clenched his fist at his side. “Why would you ever think I’d let someone get away with doing this to you—”

“Because it wouldn’t be the first time,” Elizabeth said without thinking. “You made sure Courtney got away with blinding me.” Jason flinched, then stepped back from her.

“That’s—”

“Different? To you. Not to me.” Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair, took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she repeated when he said nothing. “I’m not—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I think the boys and I should—we should go. When Cameron wakes up, I’ll—I’ll find somewhere else—maybe we can go to Laura’s—”

She turned to leave, but Jason stepped in front of her—blocking her exit. “No. Okay. You’re right. And I know things are complicated with Sam. The things she’s done in the past to you, and—” He looked at Jake who was helping Aiden with the video game controller. “The things she’s done to the boys—”

“You married her, Jason. I know you forgave her—”

“But you didn’t.”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “All of that’s ancient history,” she said finally. “Right now, I need to know who’s trying to hurt me today. And while yes, Sam and I have tormented and hurt each other in the past—I’m willing to admit that my memory might be flawed—”

“Diane is tracking Sam down now,” Jason said. When she stared at him, he sighed. “You’re not wrong to think of Sam as someone who would hurt you. Who wants Franco dead. She’s the only person on both of those lists. So Diane is already checking.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Okay, then.”

“Laura called while you were asleep. And—” Jason hesitated. “Don’t go. You and the boys—you’re safe here—”

“I really hate that word,” Elizabeth muttered as she walked away from him as he stared after her, bewildered by the turn in the conversation.

“Elizabeth—”

She picked up her phone and winced. “I have a lot of missed calls,” she murmured. “I should get to them. Laura’s probably worried sick about Aiden.”

The conversation was clearly over, so Jason nodded. “Okay. I need to run out and take care of some things. I’ll check in with Diane. Call me if you need anything.”

——

Jason would never be comfortable looking at or talking to Drew Cain, the man who had—until eight months ago—been living Jason’s life. Raising his sons. Married to his wife. He’d been Jason Morgan, and, thanks to the memories still in his brain—still was.

Drew glanced up at him when Jason came to the office door at Aurora, and he shot to his feet. “I’ve been calling Elizabeth all day, but it keeps going to voicemail.” He stalked around the desk. “The news reports said the boys were missing, but—”

“They’re fine. Elizabeth panicked, sent Cameron with the boys to Canada.” Jason exhaled slowly, but then decided that Drew should probably have the full story.

So he told him everything—from the call in the middle of the night, to the scene at Elizabeth’s house, the drive to get the boys—and what had happened that morning.

Drew listened to it all, then closed his eyes when Jason finished with Elizabeth’s memory flash of Sam in the kitchen with her. “You think Sam did this.”

Jason hesitated—because Drew’s reaction wasn’t the denial he’d expected. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t want to, but Elizabeth remembers her. And it—I don’t know. I can’t see anyone killing Franco then going to the trouble of setting up Elizabeth.”

“If someone wanted him dead, there were easier ways,” Drew admitted. He dragged his hand across his face. “The thing is—I think—no, I know it’s possible.”

Jason blinked. “What? Why?”

“Because Sam wanted the divorce. Not me,” Drew clarified. “I thought she was leaving me for you—but then she left town. And I haven’t heard from her since. She hasn’t called Scout or Danny. I don’t—I can’t quite believe she’d put the kids through all of this if something wasn’t wrong.”

“Sam left almost a month ago. Why didn’t you say something?” Jason demanded.

“Because she left me,” Drew bit out. “And it was none of your damn business.”

“I—” Jason swore, then dug out his phone. He swore when he read the text message — “The PCPD is on their way to my place with an arrest warrant for Cameron.”

+6