Written in 24  minutes. No time for typing or editing. Alternate Universe

“Uh, Jason?”

Jason Morgan turned away from his lawyer, Justus Ward, to frown at the guard standing in the doorway of his penthouse.

What had been his penthouse until six months earlier when he’d filed for divorce and left town. He was only here for a funeral and to make sure his nephew was okay. After that, he’d put this place out of his mind again.

“What? What do you want, Max?” Jason demanded.

“Your wife—” Max winced. “I mean, Mrs. Morgan—I mean, uh, anyway. She’s in the lobby. She wanted to come up to see her brother, but—” He gestured at Justus. “No one’s told her.”

Was she still technically his wife? He couldn’t remember now if she’d signed the papers or if either of their lawyers had filed them with the court. He hadn’t wanted to think about it.

That had been the point of the divorce.

“No one’s told her what?” Jason asked slowly when Justus closed his eyes, his expression pained. “What’s going on? What don’t I know?”

“You just got here,” Justus said after a moment. “And we’ve been—” He pressed his lips together , shook his head. “No one’s seen him since we found Carly.”

“Since before we found Carly,” Max pointed out. “He’s gone. His stuff is still there, but—”

“Damn it.” Jason rubbed his hands over his face. “Damn it. That’s—that can’t be about this? Can it?”

“That’s one of the reasons we wanted you to come back,” Justus told him. “It’s—things are a goddamn mess, and Lansing won’t tell us anything. He’s shut us out. And the last thing any of us want—”

“I don’t give a damn about any of this,” Jason growled. “I told you. I just wanted to bury Carly, make sure Michael is okay, and then go—I can’t—”

He couldn’t care about this. Couldn’t care about the chaos left in the wake of Carly Corintho’s death. This life had already stolen everything he loved. There was nothing left to take.

“She looks upset, Jase,” Max said quietly, drawing Jason’s attention again. “She said he’s not returning any of her calls. That’s not like him. You know that.”

“Yeah.” Jason exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I know. She’s his favorite sister.” He met Justus’s eyes. “How bad is it?”

“Since Carly or since you left?” Justus asked, flatly. “My answer is the same. Ric thinks he can slide into power and Sonny is weak enough to let him. Maybe he already has. I don’t know. Like I said, no one can get near him. Lansing’s orders.”

“About Mrs. Morgan?” Max prompted as if Jason had forgotten his wife being left in the lobby of Harborview Towers, hoping to be let up to her brother’s apartment, located three floors below the penthouse levels.

“Ask her to come up here,” Jason finally said. “But ask her, Max. If she doesn’t want to—” He could barely stand to be in these rooms—

Knowing what might still be upstairs—what they’d never taken down—

“Sure thing.”

When Max was gone, Justus folded his arms and arched his brows. “How long has it been since you saw her?”

Jason grimaced, looked at his lawyer—who was also his cousin and had been the best man at his wedding. “The morning I left.”

“Ah. Right. When you left in the middle of the night without a word, leaving her a set of divorce papers that you went to someone else to file.” Justus shook his head. “I thought maybe in the last six months—”

“No.” Jason hesitated. “I don’t know if—if it became final—”

“Not yet,” Justus said after another minute. “Two more weeks. She didn’t—she thought you’d come back. And when she realized you wouldn’t, she signed the papers and went back to Boston.” He tipped his head. “You know, what you two went through—that’d break most people, and I’m sorry for it, Jason. But what you did to her—”

“It was my fault,” Jason said roughly, hating his cousin for bringing any of this back. “All of it was my fault. I couldn’t stand to be here anymore and know it was my fault. That—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

They heard the ding of the elevator, then the quiet slide of the doors opening. A moment later, Max pushed the door open and his wife—for apparently two more weeks—walked in, stopping just at the threshold.

Elizabeth Morgan, looking tired and pale, folded her arms across a faded Boston University t-shirt and arched a slim brow. “This isn’t Steven’s apartment. Where is my brother?”

Jason just stared at her for a long moment, then swallowed. “I don’t know. I just got back—”

“I didn’t ask you,” Elizabeth said coldly. She looked at Justus. “Where’s Steven? He hasn’t returned my calls in a week. Is it Sonny? Is he taking Carly’s death that badly? What’s going on? He never stays quiet this long—”

“That’s why I asked you to come up,” Justus said smoothly, rounding Jason and walking towards his cousin-in-law. “I don’t know where Steven is. No one has seen him since before we found Carly.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “That’s not good.”

“No,” Justus agreed. He looked back at Jason. “Jason, we’ll talk in a bit, okay? I want to take Elizabeth down to the apartment. Maybe she can help us figure out where he went.”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded over the lump in his throat. “That’s—”

But Justus had already closed the door.

Jason went up the stairs and went towards the end of the short hallway on the second floor. He stopped in front of the door across the hall from the master bedroom—

—so we’ll be close to her—

Then he pushed open the door.

He looked around the room, not sure if he was relieved to see that it hadn’t been touched or angry that it was still here as a reminder of why he’d left his wife in the middle of the night, or why she looked right through him.

The white furniture remained unused, the mint green carpet as plush as the day it had been laid—

And the name painted in bouncy peach letters over the crib — Lily Ann Morgan —

The little girl who had never seen this room, who hadn’t lived long to draw her first breath.

Jason quietly closed the door, pressed his fist against it, then took a deep breath. He’d find Elizabeth’s brother for her because that was the least he could do after he’d killed their daughter.

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Written in 21 minutes. No time for typos.

Elizabeth Morgan walked into her brother’s apartment and just stared at the living room, at the jacket thrown carelessly over the back of the sofa.

She walked forward and picked it up, smoothing her hand over the denim. “I always made fun of him,” she murmured. “Because he still wore jean jackets.”

“We’ll find him,” Justus said. “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding—”

Elizabeth looked at her cousin-in-law, her favorite of Jason’s family, and smiled thinly. “You know what next week is, don’t you?”

Justus hesitated, looked away. “Yeah, I do. I’m not likely to forget.”

“Do you think my brother would go missing right now? With my divorce about to be finalized, with the one year—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “It would be Lily’s birthday, if she’d lived. She should have—”

With a deep exhale, she set the jacket down. “You know, I didn’t think he’d come back for this. For Carly.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Maybe because he wouldn’t come back for me, I thought he’d—” She rubbed her hands together, then frowned at her left hand, at the set of rings she couldn’t take off.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say you to you, Elizabeth.” Justus spread his hands out at his sides.

“Yeah, that’s common in your family. For six months—” She rubbed her chest. “Never mind. We’re not here to litigate any of this again. Steven didn’t disappear on his own. He’s gone, and it’s around the same time Carly died. So I guess I want to know if there’s a connection.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I was out of town, too,” Justus told her. “Tamika’s sister had us down to Philly for her grandfather’s birthday. That’s where I was when I got the call. The only thing Bernie told me was that Moreno’s men had broken into the Towers and they found Carly in the master bedroom.” He pressed his lips together. “Her neck was broken.”

Elizabeth pressed a fist to her abdomen. “Here? In the Towers? I didn’t realize—”

“That’s why I tracked Jason down. With Michael — I was worried. I thought—with Michael possibly in danger—”

“He’d come back for that,” Elizabeth finished. She wandered over to the fireplace and picked up a picture on the mantel. A photograph of Steven and Elizabeth on her wedding day. She traced her fingers over the smile.

She’d forgotten what it was like to smile.

“They never found out how the bomb got in my car, did they?” Elizabeth murmured. “In the parking garage. The Towers was supposed to be safe.” She looked at Justus. “Sonny would never tell me — you know the rules. And Jason couldn’t—” Her throat was thick as she tried to continue speaking. “We couldn’t talk about it.”

“No. Moreno claimed he didn’t know anything, and we—I believed him. So did Jason. Sonny always think it’s Moreno, but we’ve learned to ignore him.” Justus hesitated. “We thought a guard had turned, was going for Jason.”

“So it wouldn’t be the same thing now. Jason’s gone. Carly must have been personal.” Elizabeth set the photo back on the mantel. “When did you realize Steven was gone?”

“The day after Carly. The day I came back, I called him and he didn’t return the calls. We needed him to sedate Sonny, but he—he wasn’t there.”

“Steven and I talk once a day most of the time,” Elizabeth said after a long moment. “Since I moved to Boston, he was worried about me being alone. Sometimes we skipped a day, but he always texted. When he didn’t call last week—I let it go. Her murder—I knew about it. I thought—I thought he was busy.”

She went down the hallway to his bedroom and pushed open the slightly ajar door. The bed was neatly made, the closet door closed. “But by Wednesday, I knew something was wrong. I kept trying—I kept pretending—but I knew. Seven days.”

She opened the closet and found what she was looking for — a box at the bottom of the closet — a peach memory box, decorated with green and white swirls. She picked it up and set it on Steven’s dresser.

“We had plans for next week,” Elizabeth murmured. “For Lily’s birthday. I was going to open this and finally look at her—”

Justus touched her shoulder. “You didn’t—”

“They told me she was stillborn, and I don’t—” Elizabeth traced the embossed edges. “I couldn’t. Jason did. Maybe that was the problem. I don’t know. I wished I was dead, too. I should have been.”

“Elizabeth—”

She opened the box and just stared at the photograph laying on top. The baby looked like she was sleeping — a sweet little face with a lock of light brown hair dusting her forehead.

Elizabeth picked it up, took a deep breath. “She looks like Jason,” she murmured. She looked at Justus whose eyes were red. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Yeah. She does. Elizabeth, he’s always blamed himself. He thinks he killed her.”

“He didn’t,” Elizabeth said. She set the photo back in the box and closed the top. “Sonny did. You know that, don’t you?”

“Elizabeth—”

“He never liked me, never liked Jason having his own family. That’s why you never found out who it was. That’s why he didn’t come to the funeral. That’s why Jason can’t look at me. Because he knows it, too.”

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Written 20  minutes. No time for typos.

Jason scowled at the cell phone in his hand, irritated that he wasn’t getting any answers but not surprised either. You didn’t get to walk out on this business and expect to come back six months later with no issues.

Sonny’s brother still wasn’t letting anyone in to see him, and Jason wasn’t in the mood for a pissing content with Ric Lansing. He just wanted to find out what had happened to Steven Webber, make sure Michael was safe, and then get out.

He glanced over when the door opened again, then his focus simply vanished because it was Justus, as he’d expected, but Elizabeth was behind him, a box clutched in her arms.

Lily’s memory box.

“It’s perfect.” Elizabeth beamed at him as she slid the box out of the white tissue wrapping paper. She turned the porcelain container in her hands, sliding her fingers over the delicately painted enamel. “It matches her room.”

“You said you wanted one of these,” Jason said, brushing his lips against her temple as he rested a hand over Elizabeth’s belly, grinning when the baby kicked fiercely. “For the ultrasound photos and—”

“And for the photos I want to take. One a week for the first year so we can put it into a scrap book.” Elizabeth slid the box open and set the ultrasound from their first visit. “The first time we felt her heartbeat.”

He picked up the second one. “When we found out she’d be a girl.”

“And the last one before we meet her.” Elizabeth set the third and final photo on top of the others. “Just another month until she’s here.”

He stared at the box. It had vanished after Lily’s stillbirth, after they’d buried her in the cemetery next to his grandmother. He’d put Lily’s photograph from the hospital inside—Elizabeth hadn’t been able to look at her, but Jason thought she might want to someday.

So he’d asked Steven to take a picture of their daughter, looking so peaceful, as if she were sleeping.

So still.

“We came back up because there wasn’t anything in Steven’s apartment,” Justus said, his words breaking into Jason’s thoughts. Jason blinked, focused on his cousin.

“No sign he’s been there in the last week?”

“The last newspaper was the day Carly died,” Elizabeth said, her voice so empty, so flat. He’d never heard it that way, not even in the months after…

Jason hesitated. He didn’t know where to start, where to look. Not if he couldn’t see Sonny, find out what was going on. He squinted at Justus. “Can you get me in to see Bernie? Would he talk to me?”

“Yeah.” Justus pressed his lips together as if thinking over his next words carefully. “Look, the thing is—Sonny hasn’t really been running things since you left. That’s been on Ric. Sonny’s been mostly—” He traded a look with Elizabeth he didn’t quite understand. “He’s been MIA. Going back and forth to the island, staying in his room for long periods of time. It’s been bad. Even before Carly.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, I heard that from Johnny.” He looked at Elizabeth again, looked at the box. “Maybe you should go back to Boston.”

She set the box on the desk by the door and lifted her chin to look at him. “Why? So I’ll be safe?”

“I—” He nodded. “Yeah,” Jason said, his voice rough. “I don’t know what’s going on—”

“There’s nothing left they can take from me,” she replied. “I’m not going anywhere until my brother is found.” She looked at Justus. “Can you find me somewhere to stay? The hotel?”

“If you’re going to stay,” Justus said, gently, “then we should stick together. You should stay with one of us.” He flicked his eyes to Jason. “Here. Or you’re welcome to come with me.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly and looked at the floor. “With you, Tamika, and…Kimi,” she added, naming Justus’s daughter who had been born the month before Lily’s death.

“Yeah,” he said awkwardly.

“I’ll—”

“I’ll stay here,” Elizabeth said. She met Jason’s eyes. “On one condition.”

“What?” Jason asked.

“Tell me the truth.” She folded her arms. “The bomb in the parking garage—you know who set it.”

His heart seized. “Elizabeth—”

“You knew almost from the moment it happened,” she continued.

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes searing into him. “You never lied to me. Not one. So tell me who killed our daughter, who tried to kill me—”

“It wasn’t—” Jason shook his head. “It wasn’t—you weren’t—” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know who it was.”

Justus blinked at him, startled. “You never—”

“What was I supposed to do?” Jason demanded harshly. “I didn’t have any proof. Who would have believed me? Sonny? He wouldn’t—”

“Wait—” Elizabeth held up a hand, then curled into a fist. “Wait. It wasn’t Sonny?”

“Sonny?” Jason frowned. “No. No. Why would he? It was—” He exhaled slowly. “It was Carly.”

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Written in 25  minutes. No time for typos.

Elizabeth stared at her estranged husband for a long moment, then shook her head. “No-no, that’s not—”

She swallowed hard, looked at Justus who was blinking at Jason — but didn’t look shocked. “I thought you said—”

“I didn’t know,” Justus murmured, watching his cousin’s ashen, ashamed face carefully. “But I can also say I’m not surprised.”

“You—” Elizabeth couldn’t quite gather her thoughts. It felt like her brain had just sputtered to a stop. “You—Carly?”

Jason exhaled slowly, looked away. “After—when we were in the hospital, she came to see me. She was surprised you—” He met her eyes. “She was surprised you’d made it. She thought you were dead.”

“Because I should have been.” Her eyes burned. “You knew—all this time—”

“I didn’t have any proof. I didn’t—” Jason’s voice faltered. “I couldn’t prove it. And Sonny would never listen to me. And I didn’t want to believe it. I thought I was just—I thought I was imagining it. I told myself Carly had a reason to be surprised — no one survives car bombs.”

“I only did because you—because you stopped me before I got in the car—” Tears slid down her cheeks, and Elizabeth turned away from him.

They’d never talked about that day—she’d never asked, and he’d never brought it up. She simply couldn’t.

“I heard the click,” Jason murmured. “When Cody started to turn on the engine. I was close enough—”

He looked at Justus. “I didn’t know before. I don’t even—I was so sure—”

“What made you decide it was Carly?” Justus asked. “You’re right—she might have—she might have just been surprised anyone survived. I was, too. That bomb—” He looked at Elizabeth. “You almost died. Jason nearly died. Cody did.”

She couldn’t correct him, couldn’t tell him that of course she’d died. That she might as well as have. She’d gone into labor, and her beautiful baby—

She’d been killed by shock wave of the explosion, too fragile to survive it. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her abdomen. “How did you know—” She stopped. “Did Steven know? Could he have—”

Oh, God, had her beloved brother realized he’d been working for the woman who’d done this to his sister? Had—

Had Steven done something to give Elizabeth justice?

“I knew for sure the day I—” Jason shook his head. “I knew for sure six months ago.”

The day before he left.

She strode forward, stalking towards the man who had hidden this from her, grabbed his shirt and tried to shake him. “How did you know? And why did you leave me alone with her?”

“Tommy Graviano,” Jason said. He looked at Justus. “He came to me—he’d been blaming himself for months—and he wanted to get it off his chest—he told me that Sonny had—Sonny had asked him to put together a device for Moreno’s car.”

“But—”

“And Carly picked it up. The day before the bomb.”

“Tommy didn’t think anything of the boss’s wife picking up a bomb?” Justus bit out. “Why the hell—” He exhaled. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t plan it together,” Elizabeth said. She released Jason and stepped back. “Otherwise how did Carly know Sonny’d ordered it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t—”

“You were supposed to be in the car, too,” Justus offered. Elizabeth turned around as she and Jason looked at him. “You were both going to the hospital, remember? Whichever one of them did it—it was both of you—”

“And you left me alone in this penthouse with them across the hall after they murdered our daughter—” Elizabeth pressed her hands to her face, looking at him, feeling so betrayed— “How—”

“I thought maybe I was the target,” Jason said. “And if I wasn’t here—if I—I thought if I left, they’d come after me. And I didn’t think—” He looked at her with anguish. “It was my fault. They came after you because of me—”

“You should have told me,” Elizabeth snarled. She stalked away from him, dragging her hands through her hair. “You should have—”

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t thinking.”

“Did anyone come after you?” Justus asked blandly. “Did it work?”

When Jason didn’t answer, Elizabeth looked back at him, her heart pounding. “Did someone come after you, Jason?”

“A few months ago. Someone caught up to me in Cairo,” Jason admitted. “I tried to stay on the move, but they—” He grimaced. “I was in the hospital for a few weeks. But you were safe.”

“Safe.” She hated that fucking word. “Oh, well, I’m glad I was safe, living across the hall from the people who murdered my daughter while my husband abandoned me so he could nearly die halfway across the world—”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I can’t—I can’t—” She curled her hands into fists. “It can’t be a coincidence that my brother is missing in action while Carly is dead and Sonny is inaccessible. Someone found out the truth.”

“If it was your brother, then maybe—” Justus offered her a faint smile. “Maybe he’s hiding out—”

“Or maybe Sonny found out what Carly did, and killed her. Maybe Steven saw him do it.” Elizabeth shook her head, looked over at the desk and her daughter’s memory box. “I don’t know anymore. I thought I knew what happened. I thought I knew why—but—”

“I didn’t handle this right,” Jason said from across the room. “I’m sorry—”

“Sorry isn’t going to make any of this right.”

“I know.”

Elizabeth opened the box and drew out the photograph of their daughter again. She reached for a frame on the desk that held a photo of Jason and his sister when Emily had graduated medical school. She replaced it with the one of Lily and shoved it on the desk.

“She deserves better from both of us,” Elizabeth said looking back at Jason who’d come closer to look at the photo. “I want justice for her. Carly’s already dead. If Sonny was involved in any way, if he covered it up or did something to my brother, I’m going to destroy him.”

She lifted her chin and looked at Jason. “Are you going to help? Or are you going to run away again?”

“Running didn’t solve anything,” Jason admitted. “I should have stayed. I should have fought—” He hesitated. “I didn’t have proof. I still don’t.”

“What about that guy—Tommy?” Elizabeth looked at him, then looked at Justus. “What happened to Tommy? Where is he?”

“He was pulled out of the river the night I left town,” Jason admitted. “He’d been grabbed after he met me, so I knew someone was watching me.” He looked at Justus. “His neck had been broken.”

“Just like Carly’s,” Justus offered grimly.

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Written in 20  minutes. No time for typos.

It was late when Justus finally left them alone in the penthouse that night and Jason didn’t really know what do once he was alone with his wife.

When he’d gotten the news that Tommy Graviano, their explosives guy, had been pulled out of the harbor with a broken neck no more than six hours after telling Jason that Carly Corinthos had been the one to pick up a device the day before the bomb —

Jason knew the danger wasn’t over. He’d always assumed he was the target — it hadn’t occured to him that Sonny or Carly would give a damn about Elizabeth or their daughter with Jason out of the picture — it was Jason that was the threat. He’d simply left, knowing that leaving Elizabeth completely in the dark would give her the best chance.

For six months, he’d kept moving forward, kept moving, kept the focus on him and he’d hadn’t thought far enough ahead to contemplate telling Elizabeth the truth.

With Justus gone, Elizabeth had gone upstairs to take a shower while Jason had remained in the penthouse, thinking over what they knew, who they might be able to trust—

“Why would Sonny or Carly want you dead?”

He blinked, turning at the desk to find Elizabeth at the bottom of the stairs, her hair slicked back from her head, her face still tired and pale. She was wearing only socks which explained why he hadn’t heard her on the stairs.

“What?” he asked, roughly, drinking her in. She’d always been slender, but she’d lost even more weight, and he found himself worried about her. He’d thought Steven would take care of her, but—

“Sonny and Carly.” Elizabeth sat on the sofa, curling her legs up in front of her. “I always understood why I would be targeted. Sonny didn’t want you to get married, and Carly was always jealous of the time you spent with me. But—”

“I think…” Jason pressed his lips together, looked back at the paperwork on his desk, the papers he’d been dragging around the world. “I think one of them found out I was talking to Robert.”

“Robert,” Elizabeth repeated. “Robert Scorpio—why—” She faltered. “Jason, why were you talking to a WSB agent? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know if—” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “Because I didn’t know if it would work out. I didn’t know if Robert could get a deal, or if I could go through with it. And I didn’t want to get your hopes up—”

“A deal.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “You were going to flip on Sonny?”

“I—” Jason dipped his head, then got to his feet. He couldn’t stand sitting down, being still right now. “I was thinking about it. With Lily—” He swallowed. “I wanted something else. I didn’t care when it was just me, and I know you said you were okay, but I didn’t want her in danger.”

She just stared at him. “How could you keep this from me?”

“Because I didn’t—it didn’t get that far.” But he fumbled on this because he didn’t have a good reason. He should have told her. “I don’t know. I don’t even know how it got started. After Michael nearly got killed—”

An inch of difference, and Michael would have been shot in the head.

“Robert came to me. He said that he could pull some strings—I told him no at first, but I kept thinking about Lily, about you—”

“I don’t know if I would have done it,” Jason repeated. “But for Sonny, considering it would have been enough.” He met her eyes. “I never thought he’d go after you. I never considered Carly. But you’re right, if Carly was involved—Sonny had to be.”

“How else would she have known where to go?” Elizabeth said softly, finishing the thought. “I never—” She sighed. “I never suspected her. She was kind to me when we lost Lily, and she was so angry when you left. Are you sure? Are you sure that Sonny didn’t frame her?”

“I—” Jason shook his head. “No.”

“Because you know they were never the same after Sonny had that last affair. She forgave Brenda because, you know, Sonny had a history with Brenda, but Sam—” Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her temple. “I don’t know, Jason. She hated Sonny. They were only together because of Michael. I can’t see it.”

“Someone didn’t like that Tommy talked,” Jason reminded her. “And someone shot me in Cairo.” And had tried to blow him up in Istanbul, but that could wait.

“I guess we’re not much better than we were six months ago,” she said faintly. “Except now Carly’s dead, my brother is gone, and Sonny isn’t talking to anyone.”

She paused. “Ric won’t talk to you, Jason, but you know—”

“Don’t—”

“He’ll talk to me.”

Jason shook his head. “No—”

“He’ll talk to me,” Elizabeth repeated. She got to her feet and crossed her arms. “And you don’t have the right to stop me.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Because it doesn’t matter that you were trying to protect me when you left,” Elizabeth said. She strode forward, took his hand, then shoved her rings into his hand. “You left. And we’ll be divorced in two weeks. Nothing has changed my mind about that.”

He stared down at the jewelry in his hands, then met her eyes and swallowed. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I want you to talk to Ric Lansing.”

“I’m the only one who can get in to see him,” she insisted. “He won’t talk to you. He hates you—”

“Because he never—” Jason bit off, irritated with himself.

“Because he never forgave me for leaving him and marrying you.”

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Written in 20  minutes. No time for edits.

Jason and Ric had hated each other almost from the moment Jason had started to work for Sonny, and the situation had only worsened when Elizabeth had filed for divorce after a short, disastrous two months only to marry Jason six months later. While Ric worked for Sonny out of familial loyalty and because Sonny had promised their mother he’d look after his little brother — Jason had risen to his place in Sonny’s organization through actual loyalty and merit.

Elizabeth hadn’t intended to get in the middle of all of that, but neither had she really paid attention. Maybe she should have, she thought the next morning as she walked out of her former home and crossed the hallway to Sonny’s penthouse.

She smiled at Max Giambetti, the long time guard for Sonny. “Hey.”

“Mrs. Morgan.” Max straightened. “Uh—I didn’t realize you were still here—” He looked at the door, then back at her. “Mr. C isn’t taking visitors—”

“I know, I understand. I was hoping Ric might talk to me.” She fluttered her lashes slightly because she knew Max was easily flustered by women. “Does he know I’m here?”

“Uh…maybe. I don’t know. I should check.”

Max knocked lightly on the door. “Go away,” Ric barked, his voice muffled by the heavy oak door.

“Mr. Lansing—”

“Say Elizabeth is here,” she told him quickly. “Or my maiden name. Or something.”

“Right—Uh, Miss Webber is here—”

The door was yanked open even before Max could finish his sentence. Her former husband was disheveled, his dress shirt unbuttoned to his collar, his usually sleek hair tumbling over his eyes. “Elizabeth.”

“Hey. I was hoping you might agree to see me. I know Sonny isn’t up for visitors.” She folded her arms. “But I wanted to check on you guys.”

“Uh…yeah. Okay.” Ric dragged his hands through his hair and stepped away from the door. Elizabeth stepped inside, but left the door slightly ajar. “I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d come back from Boston.”

“Well, Carly and I never had problems with each other,” Elizabeth said. “But I haven’t heard from my brother in a few days.” She took a deep breath. “With the next couple of weeks—it’s just not a time when Steven would be out of touch with me, you know?”

Ric blinked at her. “The next couple—” He nodded. “Right. Right. Uh, I’m sorry. I think I lost—it’s been a rough couple of days.”

“I’ll bet. Is Michael here?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, he’s with Bobbie—uh, Sonny thought that would be—” Ric shook his head, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I really wasn’t expecting you. I haven’t seen you since you moved.”

“Well, other than Steven, I don’t really have a lot of good memories in Port Charles,” Elizabeth murmured. “And since my divorce will be finalized soon…” She let that dangle, hoping that would make Ric give her a bit more information.

If he had anything to give.

“Justus said something about that. It’s been tough here. You’re not the only one Jason abandoned,” Ric said tightly, his eyes flashing. “I told you he would disappoint you, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Elizabeth said carefully. “It’s hard to say if things would have been different—” She sighed. “I suppose I’m not meant to be a mother.”

“Don’t—” Ric reached out to her, but Elizabeth couldn’t fight the old habit—she stepped back. His hand curled into a fist between them as he nodded. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You still haven’t forgiven me.”

“No,” Elizabeth said. And suddenly, the air was heavy and she couldn’t force a full breath. Being around him—remembering those final devastating weeks. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. Look, I really just came by to check on Sonny. I know he and Carly had their problems, but I’m sure he’s taking this badly. And I was hoping you’d heard from my brother.”

“No. I haven’t,” Ric said flatly. “And Sonny’s fine. I’ll have some of the men look around for Steven. Are you at the hotel?”

“No,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m across the hall—”

“Jason’s staying across the hall. He got back yesterday.” His eyes flashed. “I thought you said your divorce was nearly final—”

“It is. But there’s no point in wasting money when I can stay in a guest room. There are still a few things I need to pack anyway.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Let me know if Sonny needs anything.”

She turned and left the penthouse, barely giving Max a second glance as she hurried back to the other penthouse where Jason and Justus were waiting.

She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, her heart pounding. Jason and Justus both shot to her feet.

“What is it?” Jason demanded as Justus crossed the room to her. “What did he do?”

“Nothing.” Elizabeth exhaled. “Except lie to me. Everything he said was a lie.” She stepped away from the door. “He knows something about Steven. He claimed not to know I was in town or staying over here. And—” She swallowed hard. “He claimed he didn’t know it’s been almost a year.”

Jason frowned. “How does that—”

“Because he still sends me flowers every May, Jason, that’s why. For the last three years, he’s sent me flowers to remind me that his mistress shoved me down a flight of stairs and I miscarried my first child. You’re telling me he doesn’t remember that my second child died in July?” Elizabeth demanded harshly.

Jason pressed his lips together and looked away. “So why would he lie?”

“To make her think he’s forgotten her,” Justus said. “That he hasn’t been thinking about her. He knew Steven was missing. And he knew you were here. Max told him yesterday. Max tells him every time someone comes to the Towers.”

“So he’s lying about something. About my brother, about me, I don’t know. Take your pick.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “You said Sonny ordered the bomb and Carly picked it up,” she said softly. “What if they were both framed?”

Jason shook his head, looked at her. “What? Why?”

“Sonny never does the work directly. You told me that,” she reminded him.

Justus inhaled sharply. “Ric could have done it in his name. Tommy wouldn’t have thought anything of it.”

“He ordered it in May, didn’t he?” Elizabeth pressed Jason. “That’s when your guy started working on it. Ric came back from a business trip and he’d been for months. I wasn’t showing when he left—”

“But you were when he came back.” Jason fisted his hands at his side. “I never thought—I never thought he’d go after you—”

Elizabeth smiled thinly. “I should have. It wouldn’t even be the first time.”

+4

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

Jason flinched immediately, taking in Elizabeth’s palor. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I—”

He hadn’t forgotten how her marriage to Ric had ended or how she’d begged him not to do anything the night he’d found her—

But somehow he hadn’t associated that terrible night with the way they’d lost their daughter.

“It’s fine.” Elizabeth dismissed it, ignoring Justus’s curious looks. “What do we do?” she asked them. “I mean, if this Tommy guy is gone, and we’re not going to get anything from Sonny—what’s left?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “I’ve been—I’ve been gone too long.” He didn’t know all of the guards anymore—many of the men in the lobby had been strangers. There’d been a lot of turnover in the last six months obviously.

“We’re thinking too much inside of the organization,” Justus said finally. “Steven going missing isn’t a coincidence. And he didn’t just work for us—”

“Maybe someone at the hospital can help,” Elizabeth said, finishing his thought. “Oh, well. I still have friends there. I can call Patrick or Robin.” She looked at Jason. “Can you call Emily?”

“Can’t you?” Jason said, tipping his head to the side. Emily had been Elizabeth’s best friend since the day she’d gone to work at the hospital.

“She and I—we, um, lost touch when I moved to Boston,” Elizabeth told him. “She…” She paused. “She didn’t think I should file for divorce.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll—I’ll call her. I should go see my grandmother.”

“So it’s settled. I’ll go to the hospital—”

“I’ll go with you,” Justus added. “Just to drive you over,” he clarified when she frowned at him. “I need to run down to my place and let Mikki know I’m going, okay?” He checked his phone. “Let’s meet in the parking garage in about fifteen.”

She scowled as he left, leaving them alone in the penthouse. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, not really sure what to do now.

He’d still left her with no word in the middle of the night, left her alone in this pit of vipers—across the hall from someone who might have wanted her dead. He’d always believed he was the target, and she had been collateral damage.

But what if it was the other way around?

“I’m sorry about Emily,” he said finally. She looked at him, then shook her head and crossed the room to the sofa to dig through her purse. “I didn’t tell—I didn’t tell anyone.”

“No, I know, but she thought you’d come back once you’d figured out how to forgive yourself.” Elizabeth shrugged, but the gesture wasn’t nearly as casual as she’d tried to make it look. “We didn’t seem to agree on whether I was supposed to forgive if you did come back.”

Her hands were trembling slightly as she took her phone out of her purse. “I never thought you’d be a coward,” she murmured. Elizabeth finally looked at him, met his eyes. “I never thought you’d find out who killed our daughter and run away.”

“I—” Shame crawled through his veins. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you—how to understand what I thought Carly had done—but then Tommy was dead. And—”

“And what?” Elizabeth demanded when he stopped talking abruptly. “What? What could possibly—”

“Someone tried to run me off the road the night I left,” he said finally, tired of the lies. Tired of that look in her eyes. She was never going to forgive him—he’d accepted that a long time ago—but she needed to do he hadn’t run away.

Elizabeth glared at him. “And how did that lead you to leave me in the middle of the night—with a stupid letter—” SHe squeezed her eyes shut. “Why—”

“Because it convinced me I was the target,” Jason retorted. “The bomb was on my car, Elizabeth. You weren’t going to take my car to the hospital that day—not originally. No one came after you for the next six months, but as soon as I came close—they tried to kill me again. Every second I was with you meant they might—”

He clenched his fist at his side. “We’d already lost Lily. If this life—if what I was thinking about doing with the WSB—if I lost you, there’d be nothing left. I knew I was the target, so I made sure they were chasing me. Not you.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “This is why men are the worst,” Elizabeth offered with some disgust. “Because somehow your pain is more important than mine—”

“What—”

“Because you could at least be out there, knowing I was okay—knowing that I was alive—believing you’d made some noble sacrifice—but me—” She pressed a fist to her chest. “I lost you anyway. I lost my daughter, my marriage, my entire life here. I was devastated, Jason, when you left! And you think because you did it to keep me alive—that makes it better?”7

Elizabeth stalked across the room and grabbed a frame from a shelf. She shoved it at him, almost throwing it. “The day we got married—what did we promise?”7

He stared down at their wedding photo, at their faces smiling at the photographer. “Elizabeth—”

“I promised you my face would never change and you promised me you would always respect my choices. My choice was to marry you even though I knew what you did for a living. My choice was to get pregnant and start a family—even though I knew you who you are. My face didn’t change—”

“I know—”

“Not until you broke your promise. I had a right to know who killed my daughter, who tried to kill me—who wanted you dead—” Her eyes were bright with rage, her cheeks flushed. “And you stole that from me! You left me in the middle of the night and destroyed anything I had left! But, hey, I’m alive, so I guess it’s okay, huh?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Too little, too late. Find my brother. Find out who killed our daughter. And then, I never want to see you again.”

Then she slammed the door behind her.

+4

Written in 20  minutes. No time for edits.

Jason didn’t know what he was going to say to his sister, but was relieved when she agreed to meet him quietly in the gardens of the estate where she lived with her husband. He didn’t care that it meant he had to take the launch to Spoon Island — he wanted to meet with her discreetly and quietly.

Not in the middle of where she worked or anywhere else.

“Jason!” Emily enveloped him in a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

“It’s not—it’s not permanent—” He drew back from her, his hands on her shoulder. “I just—I need to do a few things, then I’m going—”

“What?” Emily blinked, stepped back. “Why? Oh—are you going to Boston? Liz is working there—”

“Elizabeth is here. In Port Charles. She came home for Carly’s funeral, but we’re both—” Jason studied his sister for a long moment. “She said that you two had argued—”

“I thought she should give you more time to deal with everything.” Uncomfortable, Emily folded her arms. “That, you know, you had to figure out to forgive yourself so you could be a family again. I mean, she waited three months. If she’d waited a little longer—” She forced a smile. “But you talked to her. That’s good—”

“It’s not—” Jason squinted. He hadn’t realized his sister would take his side—he’d never, for one moment, thought what he’d done was a good thing. He’d come home prepared to be given a cold shoulder by everyone.

Especially his sister, who had been like a sister to Elizabeth, who had been there after her marriage to Ric had fallen apart, after Lily’s death—

“We’re still—we’re still getting divorced,” Jason told her. “It’s—Justus told me it’s finalized in two weeks—”

“Is that what you want?” Emily demanded. “Because you could stop it—”

“Em—” Jason frowned, let his hands fall to his sides. “What do you know that we don’t?”

“What?” Emily’s eyes widened—just a little too much, and he swore under his breath. His sister was always a terrible liar.

“I left her—in the middle of the night—with absolutely no warning. I never contacted her, and the only thing I left behind was a letter telling her I was sorry.” Jason scowled. “And you took my side?”

“Well, no, not at first,” Emily said, with a roll of her eyes. “I thought you’d be gone a few weeks, and I was pissed. But then—then a month went by and I knew something was wrong.” She fidgeted, looked at the ground. “I asked— I asked Nikolas to try to find you, but he couldn’t. So I went to Steven, thinking maybe he’d know something—”

“Steven? Do you know where he is? He hasn’t contacted Elizabeth in a week—no one has seen him since Carly’s body was found—”

“I know. I know.” Emily shoved her hair out of her face. “This isn’t how any of this was supposed to go.” She bit her lip. “You’re not supposed to be getting divorced, and Steven is supposed to be fixing this, and Elizabeth was really not supposed to pick up and move away!”

“Emily,” Jason said flatly. “What the hell is going on?”

“I went to Steven to ask him what was going on,” Emily continued with a sigh. “And he told me that he couldn’t say anything—that he couldn’t even tell Elizabeth which was really bad because you know how much he loves her. He’d never hurt her like that—unless it had to be done.”

“Get to the point—”

“Well, all he would say was he understood why you’d left. And that everyone would when you came back—but then you didn’t. A month later, Elizabeth started talking about leaving, about divorce, and I was—I was almost ready to agree, but Steven told me I had to stop her—”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Did Steven say the same to Elizabeth?”

“No. He said he to be completely on her side, but that everything would be worse if she left town and divorced you. I didn’t understand it, but he seemed—he seemed to feel like it was dangerous. I don’t know, maybe he needed Elizabeth to stay in Port Charles.” Emily bit her lip. “Jason, Steven never would have left her alone this long. Do you think—”

“I don’t know. I hope not.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “What else did Steven say?”

“Just—just that you had done something stupid, but you’d done it for the right reasons and when he could make everything right, Elizabeth would understand.” She paused. “I thought that meant the two of you were in contact—that you’d planned it together—but you didn’t?”

“No. I didn’t know—Steven was just a doctor who worked with us.” Wasn’t he? He exhaled, looked away. “This doesn’t make sense—”

“Why did you leave?” Emily asked. With a grimace, Jason told her briefly about Tommy Graviano, their suspicions about Sonny and Carly, and the shooting in Cairo as her face grew paler.

“Someone was trying to kill you? The whole time? It’s about you—”

“And now—Elizabeth thinks it’s Ric.”

Emily scowled. “Ric Lansing? Oh, of course. That son of a bitch has been obsessed with her since—you know he sent her flowers every May.”

“No,” Jason said tightly. “She never told me.”

“Oh. Well, maybe she knew you’d kill him,” Emily said. “Because you would have. I just—I don’t understand. Last year, he sent her those flowers, and then you’re saying he might have ordered a bomb. But did he want her dead or just you? Why go after you in Cairo with Elizabeth right here?”

“I don’t know. And I’m tired of the questions,” Jason snapped. “I want some answers. Now you’re telling me Steven knew something was up—” He dragged his hand through his hair. “Em—”

“None of this makes sense, Jason. If Carly picked up the bomb, but wasn’t in on it, how does she fit in? Does she?”

“She has to. She’s dead, isn’t she? And Sonny is apparently useless—locked in his room, refusing to see anyone.” He hesitated. “Can you think of anything else that might help us find Steven? He seems to be the key to all of this—”

“No, but Patrick was his best friend. Maybe he knows something,” Emily said. “Or—” She blinked. “Jason, when did you say you’d been shot in Cairo?”

“Two months ago.” Jason winced, thinking of the two weeks he’d spent in the hospital. “Why?”

“That’s about the time that I confronted Steven. When he told me I had to stop her from leaving. Jason—Steven was out of town. He left for a week in April. The last week of April.”

“That’s when I was shot—” Jason shook his head. “No—Steven wasn’t involved—”

“No? Because Elizabeth was going to go look for you,” Emily told him. “At first—after a few weeks, she told us she was leaving to look for you. Then she had a conversation with Steven. He left town after that—and she started talking about divorce.”

+4

Written in 26 minutes. No time for edits.

Elizabeth found Patrick Drake in his usual spot at General Hospital—in his office, scribbling on a patient’s chart and in a state of general irritation with anyone he didn’t think was as smart as he was.

“Hey, you.”

Patrick glanced up, ready to snarl at whomever was interrupting him—then his handsome face exploded into a grin. He shoved back from his desk and enveloped her in a hug. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I came to town for the funeral,” Elizabeth said, hugging him back, grateful for an uncomplicated, friendly face. She’d always liked Justus—but she could tell he was still gravitating towards Jason and that side of the fence.

Patrick Drake would always be on Elizabeth’s side. He’d been like a brother to her since he and Steven had completed their internship together at General Hospital and planned a takeover of the entire place — Steven would take over for their grandfather as Chief of Staff and Patrick would make the surgery department the best in the country—and Elizabeth would run the nursing program.

How quaint those dreams seemed now.

“Really?” Patrick lifted his brows as he drew back and gestured for her to sit on the sofa in his office. “I didn’t think you and Carly were that close.”

“We weren’t, but she was kind last year,” Elizabeth said simply. “And I wanted to check on Michael. I wasn’t sure if…” She bit her lip and looked at her hands. “I didn’t know if anyone would be able to find Jason.”

“Right.” Patrick leaned back against the arm. “Is he back, too?”

“Yeah. He is. Um, nothing—don’t worry. I’m not stupid about it,” she said. “Nothing’s changed. I know why he left, why he stayed out of touch, but it honestly doesn’t change much for me, you know?”

“Because he still left.” Patrick nodded. “What does Steven think?”

Elizabeth frowned at him. “He—I haven’t—” She cleared her throat. “That’s why I’m here, Patrick. Because I haven’t heard from Steven in a week. I came down to find out what’s going on. I called the hospital and he hasn’t been here either—”

Patrick frowned, tipping his head. “Well, no, he took some time off two weeks ago. But maybe that didn’t get down the grapevine.” He grimaced. “But—maybe that explains the message he left me a few days ago—”

“A few—” Elizabeth reached out, grabbed his wrist. “What do you mean? What did he say? How long ago exactly?”

“Wednesday,” Patrick told her. “He left me a voicemail in the middle of the night, telling me to send you back to Boston. I didn’t—I didn’t think about it much. I had two surgeries that day, and I thought Steven was with you. He said he was taking time to deal with family stuff, and you’re the only family he gives a damn about.”

Patrick got to his feet and went over to his desk to get his phone, then hesitated. He looked at her. “He never came to see you?”

“No. And if he left a message on Wednesday—he was still alive.” Elizabeth felt something release inside of her. “Oh, God. Thank God. I was so scared—no one else has even heard from him since Carly was found—but you talked to him—” Patrick had heard from her brother the day before yesterday—

“Why would he come to see me?” Elizabeth asked. “I was planning to come here in a week or so. For, um…” She twisted her wedding ring. “My divorce is almost final, and I wanted to clean out Lily’s room.”

“Right.” Patrick exhaled slowly, then went to sit behind his desk. “It’s been a year already. It doesn’t seem that way, you know?” He was quiet for a moment. “You know, Steven must have been thinking about it, though. He was trying to find the doctor who delivered her.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What—no—why? Why would—”

“I don’t know. Maybe—you know, Dr. Quartermaine is thinking of retiring soon, and Steven should be stepping up. I know he was thinking of quitting the moonlighting he was doing for Sonny. He only stayed for you. Maybe he was just…tying up loose ends.”

“Patrick—why would he need to find Kelly? She still works—” When Patrick met her eyes, Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “Kelly doesn’t work here?” Elizabeth had left the hospital the year earlier, unable to continue working in the place where her daughter had died.

“No. Kelly left about a month after you did. I always figured because she blamed herself. It—it was a rough delivery. You know—or maybe you don’t. You were hurt, too, and you needed surgery. I think Kelly blamed herself—maybe she went too fast—something she did—” Patrick sighed.

Elizabeth couldn’t breathe. “How could she blame herself?” she asked softly. “Lily—she was stillborn. She was—she was gone before I came to the hospital—”

None of this was making sense. Kelly had told her—

“I—” Patrick grimaced. “Maybe I’m remembering it wrong. But the paperwork I saw—Lily died a few hours later. While you were in surgery—”

“No! Jason told me he—” Elizabeth slapped a hand on his desk, forcing him to look at her. “Jason saw her. I have a photograph of her—” Her voice broke. “Jason or Steven—or Emily—someone would known she lived that long—”

“Okay, okay—” Patrick held up his hands. He turned to his computer. “Let me look it up. I can just—” He frowned.

Elizabeth darted around the desk to see the monitor and her heart sank. Because Patrick had been wrong. “See, it says it there,” she gestured. “Stillborn.”

“Yeah—but—” Patrick shook his head. “Wait—wait—” He typed a few more keys. “No—no, this isn’t right. How—”

He scowled and got to his feet. “Come on, let’s go downstairs to the file room. Where we keep the paper files.”

“Patrick, what are you looking for?” Elizabeth demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Just—” He walked out of the offie, and she scurried after him, surprised when he took the steps.

“Damn it, wait—”

She caught up to him two floors later, her shorter legs making it harder to match his longer stride. He was already in the archives, searching for the right cabinet. “Patrick—”

He pulled out the file, then scowled. “This is wrong. The blood type doesn’t match—and—there’s no—there’s no cause of death. Or time of death.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her breathing catching in her throat. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“This file doesn’t say anything about Lily’s death,” Patrick muttered. He gave her the file, then looked in another cabinet. “Here—I knew I remembered—another baby was born that day—” He pulled out the file. “This baby was born stillborn, due to placenta previa. The placenta separated and the baby lost too much oxygen.”

He stared it for a long moment, swallowing hard before looking up at her. “Two babies born that day, both delivered by Kelly Lee. A stillborn and a live baby girl. I remember—I knew Lily had been alive. You were in surgery, Jason was getting stitched up, and the PCPD grabbed them—Steven took that picture of Lily, but she wasn’t dead in that photo, Elizabeth. She was alive. He wanted you to see her—”

“But—”

“But then she died,” Patrick continued. “And I guess—I never asked. I never talked to Steven about it, and we didn’t talk about Lily. You know?”

Elizabeth pressed her fist to her mouth. “Patrick. Patrick, is my little girl alive?”

——

At the penthouse, Jason shoved the door open, so irritated and frustrated from his meeting with Emily that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone in the penthouse.

Across the room, sprawled out on the ground—lay the still form of Sonny Corinthos.

+4

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

Jason slammed the door closed behind him and sprinted to where Sonny was lying, just behind the sofa. He rolled him over—and was relieved to see Sonny’s eyes open, just slits of brown as sweat dribbled down his face.

“Sonny—” He dragged out his phone, intending to call 911 — this was more than he could handle and their resident doctor was missing in action.

Sonny’s hand weakly caught at his shirt and Jason paused to look at his former boss and friend. “Leave—” He panted, then coughed. He rolled on his side, continued coughing. “Have—to—go. Get out. Not—safe.”

“Sonny—”

“Eliza…” Sonny’s eyes drifted shut. “Not…safe.” He passed out, but was still breathing. Jason finally dialed 911, praying he wasn’t too late to get his answers.

—

Patrick shook his head. “Elizabeth—”

“Listen to me, Patrick.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Think back to what you just told me. You remember my daughter living for five hours. But her electronic records say she didn’t. The paper records don’t record her death. Another little girl died the same day. Who was it?”

Patrick stared down at the file in front of him, then sighed. “Do you remember Sam McCall?”

“Sam?” Elizabeth repeated. “Yeah. I—She…was one of Sonny’s mistresses—” She tipped her head. “I haven’t seen her in a while—”

“She moved after her daughter died.” Patrick swallowed. “Her daughter, born the same day Lily died.”

“But—her daughter was stillborn—”

“It must be a mix up.” Patrick closed the file, but Elizabeth took it from him before he could replace it in file. “Elizabeth—don’t—don’t do this. You know how paperwork can get mixed up. Nurse, doctors—we get busy. You have a photograph of your daughter. Steven took it. Do you think he’d lie to you—”

“He obviously did since he told me she was stillborn,” Elizabeth said. She closed her eyes. Oh, God, had her brother done this to her? “He was the one to tell me. He cried, too. He couldn’t—”

“He would never hurt you.” Patrick stared down at the file, then slowly nodded. “Let’s take this and Lily’s to my office. Somewhere safe where we can go over them and figure this out. If—if there’s a chance there was a switch—we need to figure this out—”

——

Just as they reached Patrick’s office, Elizabeth got a text on her phone—an alert from Jason telling her Sonny was being rushed to the hospital. She frowned at it, then called his line—but he didn’t answer.

“Patrick, I need to go down to the ER,” she told him. “Can—can you get started on looking at the files? Make copies. Scan them. Send them to me and to Justus.” She hesitated. “And Spinelli. He can be trusted. I don’t want anything to happen to them before we can look at them.”

“What’s wrong in the ER?”

“Sonny’s being rushed in—and no one’s been able to talk to him since Carly died.” She headed for the elevators.

—

She found Jason pacing the length of the small waiting room, back and forth from one line of chairs to another. He turned, frowning at her. “Hey. I was going to call you back—”

“What happened to Sonny?” Elizabeth demanded. “Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know. I came back from talking to Emily and he was in the penthouse,” Jason said. “Lying on the floor.” He lowered his voice, took her by the elbow and steered her over towards the corner. “He told me we needed to leave town. That it wasn’t safe.”

“Well, obviously—but—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Jason, there’s something you need to know—Patrick talked to Steven three days ago. Or at least got a voice mail from him.”

“Three days—” Jason nodded. “So he’s still alive. Or was.”

“Exactly. Apparently, Steven’s been trying to track down Kelly. She resigned after Lily was born.” She looked at him, searching his eyes, praying he wouldn’t lie to her. “Jason, how did Lily die? What was her cause of death?”

“What?” He frowned at her. “You—you know. Steven told you. He told me—she was stillborn. The car bomb—I didn’t get you clear in time.” He swallowed hard. “I pushed you down too hard—”

“No—” Elizabeth touched his arm, the first gentleness she’d shown him since this had started. “No. Because Patrick just told me she was alive. He never—he never talked to me about it. Thought it would be painful. She was alive.”

“I—” Jason stepped back. Shook his head. “No—no, that’s not—that’s not what—How—”

“He said Kelly quit because she’d lost two babies. She blamed herself. I couldn’t see why—because we were both told the same thing. We both thought she died because of the bomb—”

“I don’t—” Jason clenched his fist. “I don’t understand.”

“The records don’t match. The electronic ones—they say she was stillborn, but Patrick and I just checked the paper records. Not only does Lily’s file say she was born alive—but it doesn’t have a record of her death.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but he wouldn’t say it. She knew it—it had been painful to say it outloud to put the wish out into the world. “And Steven was trying to track down Kelly.”

“Yes.”

Jason took out his cell phone and dialed. Without breaking eye contact, he said, “Justus, find an address for Kelly Lee. Now. Make sure it’s current.”

“Jason—”

“Mr. Morgan?”

They turned to see a doctor exiting one of the cubicle rooms. Elizabeth remembered him—Ian Devlin.

“Is Sonny okay?” Jason asked. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s been drugged. A potentially fatal overdose of Vicodin.” Ian looked at Elizabeth for a moment, then focused on Jason. “I’m sorry. He’s slipped into a coma and might never come out of it.”

+4