Previously…
– Unable to face his family after Molly’s early delivery and the subsequent news that the baby hadn’t survived, Caleb slipped out of the hospital and ran into Jasmine.
– On the cruise ship, Diane rescued a man who fell into the pool — and was aided by a handsome, younger doctor.
– Jason was getting ready for bed when he realized there was an intruder in the house.

With a fireplace poker in one hand and his cell phone in the other, Jason Fisher stands frozen on the staircase inside his dark, shadowy home.

“I’m calling 911!” he announces to whomever is creeping around the first floor of the house. His body tenses as he sees a figure stepping through the living room — and then his jaw drops when he sees who it is.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asks as his shaky fingers fumble to end the emergency call.

“Hey, Dad,” his 14-year-old daughter says as she stands awkwardly before him. 

It takes Jason a moment to process his shock. He sets down the poker and his phone and hurries down the stairs.

“You’re supposed to be at camp,” he says with confusion.

Sophie shrugs. “It didn’t work out.”

“What do you mean, it didn’t work out? You said you were having a good time.”

She shrugs and pulls the sleeves of her black sweatshirt down over her hands. 

“Sophie?” asks a voice from the top of the stairs. Both Jason and Sophie look up to see her cousin, Christian, standing there.

“Christian?!” Sophie asks, equal parts baffled and delighted. “What’d I miss while I was gone?”

“Your dad’s letting me spend the night in the guest room,” Christian explains as he descends the stairs.

Sophie scrunches up her nose. “Why?”

Christian hesitates, sucking in a deep breath. Jason reads the anguish in his expression and jumps in.

“Aunt Molly is in the hospital, and Uncle Brent is staying with her,” Jason says. 

“Is she okay? What about the baby?” Sophie asks.

“She had the baby,” Christian says solemnly. “He… he died right after he was born.”

“Shit,” she says.

“Sophie. Language,” Jason warns her.

“Sorry,” she responds with a flicker of annoyance. “And I’m sorry, Christian. That sucks.”

“Thanks,” her cousin says.

She picks up her backpack off the floor nearby. “Well, we can have a sleepover if you want. Like watch a scary movie–”

“Not so fast,” Jason says, folding his arms. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me exactly how you got home from camp — and why you left in the first place.”

—–

The gentle rocking is barely perceptible, but as Diane Bishop comes to in the dark cabin, she becomes aware of the light motion. It helps remind her, in those hazy first moments of wakefulness, exactly where she is: aboard a cruise ship somewhere off the coast of Alaska, lying in a bed in a cabin that doesn’t even belong to her.

She grins to herself as she swivels her head upon the pillow. Ben, the younger doctor whom she met earlier tonight, lies there sound asleep, the sheet covering his body — his very impressive body — which Diane knows is naked underneath. If he weren’t out so cold, Diane would pull back the sheet and spend the next few hours engaged in the sweaty, satisfying activity that they shared earlier.

Now, however, she is awake, more so with every passing minute, and she realizes that she is not going to fall asleep any time soon. She remains in the bed for some time, fifteen or twenty minutes, but finally decides that she is going to go insane if she has to spend the remainder of the night this way. Ben shows no signs of stirring, either, so she quietly slides off the bed and does her best to gather her clothes in the dark. 

She thinks briefly of leaving him a note, but the logistics of digging a pen and paper out of her purse, writing a note in the dark, and getting out of the room without waking up seem very daunting. She does her best to get into her jeans and blouse and then, shoes in hand, slowly unlatches the lock on the door and slips out.

As she heads to the elevator in order to return to her cabin, the ship eerily quiet all around her, she finds that she cannot wipe the smile off her face.

God, did I need that, she thinks as the elevator takes up her up to her floor.

Despite the late hour, the fluorescent lighting inside the hospital cafeteria burns as brightly as ever. The cafeteria, however, is much emptier than usual, with only a few assorted individuals spread throughout the space, parked alone at tables with cups of coffee or packaged snacks. At a table near the entrance, Claire Fisher wraps her hands around a cup of hot tea, the teabag’s label dangling out of it.

“I am so sorry,” she says to her ex-husband, who sits across from her with his own untouched cup of coffee. “No matter what’s happened among us, I would never, ever wish this on anyone.”

“I know,” Tim Fisher says. “I thought I should tell you before you bumped into someone and found out that way.”

“I appreciate it. Poor Molly. Poor Brent.”

Tim shakes his head sadly. “It all happened so fast. The baby was born and had already passed away before I even got here.”

Claire picks up the tea and blows on it before speaking again. “I knew she was in labor, because I ran into Caleb in the lobby. And you know, he said something kind of strange.”

“What’s that?”

“He said that his parents knew I didn’t leave Molly the day she collapsed. I don’t even know what he meant by that. Maybe he was just trying to reassure me.”

“Maybe. Yeah.”

“I hate the thought that I could’ve contributed to Molly’s stress at all,” Claire continues. “Going over there to confront her might not have been my finest moment, but all I wanted to do was talk. We used to be so close. I never wanted to harm her or the baby in any way.”

“It sounds like everyone realizes that now that some time has passed.”

“Yeah. Caleb must have meant that cooler heads had prevailed,” she says before pausing to take a sip of the tea. “How are the twins doing?”

“They’re pretty rattled,” Tim tells her. “Jason took Christian home so Brent could stay with Molly. And Caleb — last I heard, no one knew where he was. He finally texted Brent that he’d left the hospital, but he didn’t say where he was.”

“It’s a really intense situation, especially for a teenager. I just hope he’s okay.”

“He will be. Everyone will be, eventually. But it’s going to be very painful for a while.”

Claire sighs. “You know what’s crazy?”

“What?”

“In spite of everything that’s happened — Brent cheating on me, Molly getting pregnant, me finding out the way I did — there’s this part of me that just wants to go upstairs and comfort them both. Molly and I were sisters-in-law for so long, even when we technically weren’t, and Brent…”

“Those feelings don’t just vanish when a relationship ends,” Tim says, “even if it ends badly. You guys were in love.”

“Were being the operative word,” she says as she sets down the tea again. “I miss him, and it still hurts to think that we’re never going to have the future that I was ready to have with him.”

He offers a sympathetic bow of the head. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m learning to live with it. And I’ll be okay. I know I will. And I can’t believe I’m saying this… but I’m glad that they have one another.”

“They’re going to need to lean on each other to get through this,” Tim agrees. “That whole family is going to need all the togetherness and support they can get. I just hope that’s enough.”

—–

The tip of the joint glows a brilliant orange as Caleb Taylor sucks in hard. He holds the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds before releasing it out the car window, which is opened a crack.

“Damn,” he says after fighting back a cough. 

“Good, huh?” Jasmine Knight asks as she takes the joint from him. “Feeling better?”

“A little, I guess.” Caleb shrugs and stares out at the line of evergreen trees next to the car; they are parked on a lookout off a main road, not far from the bay itself. “I dunno.”

“I really am sorry about your mom and the baby,” Jasmine says. “I can’t even imagine.”

Caleb nods and watches as Jasmine takes a hit and then lets curls of smoke roll out of her mouth.

“Why’d you think they would blame you?” she asks.

He feels his breath catch in his throat. “What?” 

“At Cassie’s, you said something about your parents blaming you for what happened to the baby. Why?”

“Because I’m a fuck-up. That’s why.” He stares off, watching the last of the smoke wind its way out the driver’s side window.

“That doesn’t make it your fault, Caleb. And I know I’m not that high.” 

Caleb lets out a heavy exhale. “I got in a fight with her a little bit before she went into labor.”

“Oh, shit. What about?”

“Stupid stuff.” He takes back the joint. “She had to go into the hospital a little while back. Her friend found her passed out on the floor and called 911, and I was upstairs, and…”

“You blame yourself for not finding her sooner? That’s not your fault.”

“No, I got in a fight with her before that, too. She was giving me shit, and I just lost it on her,” he says before quickly taking another hit. He waits for the weed to cloud his brain and lets a small cough sputter out before continuing: “I told her she was a hypocrite for being up my ass about little shit even though she and my dad, like, cheated together and made this whole mess.” 

“So you got in another fight about that fight and then your mom went into labor,” Jasmine says.

“Yeah. That.” He tosses his head back against the seat. “I know they think it’s my fault.”

“It’s not fair if they do,” she says. “You’re not supposed to let someone say whatever they want to, even if it’s dead wrong, just because she’s pregnant.”

“I know. Still…”

Jasmine takes the joint from between his fingers. “You know what’s funny?”

Caleb turns to his side. “What?”

“That you’re telling me all of this.” 

“Yeah, I dunno.”

“It’s because I get you, Caleb. We’re more alike than you think.”

That’s a scary thought, he thinks, but even while high, he knows better than to voice it aloud. And he also knows that she might be right.

—–

Sophie lets out a groan as she holds her backpack by one strap.

“I told you,” she says to Jason. “It didn’t work out.”

“And what does ‘it didn’t work out’ mean, exactly?” he replies, arms still folded. 

“It wasn’t a good fit.”

“What are you, a politician?” Jason asks, glancing back at Christian for confirmation that Sophie’s explanation is nonsense. “For starters, how did you get all the way home? That camp is an hour-and-a-half away.”

“I got a ride from someone!” the dark-haired teen says.

Jason takes a deep breath and reminds himself not to lose it in the face of her stonewalling. He remembers playing this same game with his parents when he was Sophie’s age.

“A ride from who?” he asks.

“Someone who was coming back from camp.”

“Soph, you didn’t hitchhike, did you?” Christian asks with alarm. “That’s how serial killers get you.”

“I’m pretty sure I could handle a serial killer,” she says. “Not everyone has met one like we have!”

“I don’t think having met Philip Ragan makes you immune to any serial killer,” Jason says, “but I’m being totally serious: hitchhiking is unacceptable–” 

“I didn’t hitchhike!”

“Then who’s this mysterious person who gave you a ride home?” Jason asks, fixing a stare upon her that he vows not to release until she gives him an honest answer.

It takes several seconds before she says, “An Uber driver.”

“You took an Uber an hour-and-a-half to come home from camp early? You know that app is only on your phone for emergencies–”

“Dad, it was an emergency. That camp was so lame. First of all, I already finished junior high, so I don’t know why they were spending so much time refreshing us on basic algebra, and second, there were no zombies.” 

“I think the chances of them having the actual undead were pretty low,” Christian offers.

“They could’ve tried a little harder on the theme, for how much you paid!” Sophie continues.  

“And how much did I pay for your big midnight escape?” Jason asks.

“I don’t know. Like $200?”

“Two hundred dollars? Sophie–”

“It’s all on the credit card you have linked to my Uber app. So if you pay it off by the end of the month, you won’t accrue any interest, and–”

“I’m not worried about interest!” Jason says, unable to keep from raising his voice. “None of this is okay. Does the camp even know you left? They let you leave?”

“Dad, it’s a voluntary camp, not a prison.”

Jason covers his face with his hands.

“Go upstairs and go to bed,” he tells her. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

Sophie slips her arms through the straps of her backpack. “Jeez. I thought you’d be happy to have me home.”

“Of course I’m happy you’re home. I’d be happier if I had been aware you were coming home and we had talked about a safer, cheaper way to get you home.”

With a roll of her eyes, Sophie trudges past her father and up the stairs.

Jason shoots Christian an exasperated look. “What am I going to do with her?”

“Not pay any interest on those Uber charges, I hope,” Christian responds, lifting one shoulder.

Jason is too tired to do anything but laugh at his nephew’s comment.

—–

After removing her makeup and washing her face, Diane lies down on top of the comforter in her own cabin. Every time she closes her eyes, they pop back open in 20 or 30 seconds, and finally she accepts that she is simply not going to sleep any time soon. In her mind, she replays the night’s events: the terrifying sensation of struggling to pull that man from the pool… the euphoric feeling of having Ben on top of her… and the split-second decision she made to tell him that her name is Ann Marie.

She still doesn’t know why she did it, exactly, or why she was so sparing with details about her actual life. It all seemed like too much in the moment. They were having a carefree time, so removed from everything real, everything she’s been facing lately — everything she came on this cruise to avoid, actually. 

As she stares up at the ceiling, she wonders what tomorrow might be like. Does she have to tell him her real name if she sees him again? Does she then have to explain the entire backstory, the fact that her mother isn’t really her mother, that she given a completely different name at birth and would have had a completely different life if not for her grandfather paying off Therese DeLuca?

The thoughts twist and turn in her head until her brain feels like a series of knots pulled tight, each one impossible to undo without tightening another. It’s simply too much.

Finally, she climbs off the bed, knowing what she has to do.

She gets her suitcase from the small closet and begins packing her things.

—–

The lights have been dimmed in Molly Taylor’s hospital room. Brent sits in a chair a few feet from her bed, feeling so weary and yet utterly unable to turn off his mind. With earbuds in his ears, playing a sports podcast from his phone, he lets his head loll backward and closes his heavy eyes.

A murmuring sound cuts through the steady chatter of the podcast. Brent opens his eyes and sees Molly squirming slightly in the bed, her own eyelids fluttering.

He bites his tongue, not wanting to awaken her if she is simply tossing and turning, but when she looks fully at him, he stops the podcast and removes his earbuds.

“Mol? It’s me,” he says as he goes to stand beside her.

“Brent?” she asks as she gazes up at him, no doubt letting her vision come into focus. “What’s going on?”

Brent swallows hard. He has been dreading this moment.

“We’re at the hospital,” he tells her softly. “You’re recovering.”

Instead of asking another question, however, her face goes pale as snow. He can see the exact instant when it hits her.

“It wasn’t a nightmare?” she says. “I thought it was a nightmare.”

Brent takes her head, holding it firmly, as if desperate to pass whatever strength he can muster to her.

“I’m here with you,” he says. It’s all he can think to say.

“The baby… he’s really…” A sob overtakes her. “He’s really gone?”

He knows that he doesn’t need to answer her. He stoops down, embracing her fully and pulling her toward him as she cries, hoping that the contact might provide her even a fraction of the comfort and reassurance that she needs right now.

—–

The parking lot outside J&M Supermarket is strangely still as the sedan pulls in from the street and navigates its way through the mostly empty rows. Although the store is still lit up inside, there is hardly any evidence of activity this late at night. The sedan weaves carefully to the back corner of the lot, where a black SUV with darkly tinted windows awaits. The man parks and locks the sedan and then, after checking to be sure that no one is watching, does as instructed and tries the passenger-side door of the SUV. 

“Only a few minutes late,” the person waiting says as Dr. Longo slides into the leather seat.

“I actually had patients to tend to tonight,” the doctor says bitterly. 

“I’m sure they’d all be delighted to know what kind of man they had overseeing their care,”  Loretta Ragan says.

“That was one of the most painful things I’ve ever had to do.”

“And yet, a relatively small price to pay to have those pesky gambling debts of yours wiped away. Wouldn’t you say?”

Dr. Longo nods reluctantly. 

“I hope you’ve come to tell me that everything went according to plan,” Loretta prompts, a note of annoyance in her voice.

“It did. Yeah. I covered all our bases. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor–” He stops, unable to vocalize the extent of what he carried out tonight. “Everything’s taken care of.”

“Excellent.”

“So where is it?” Dr. Longo asks.

“It? Use your words, Doctor. I presume they taught you something in medical school.” 

“Where’s the money?”

“Oh, the money. How forgetful of me.” Loretta turns in her seat to indicate an unmarked black duffel bag resting in the backseat. “You’re welcome to count it.” 

He rotates to his right and clumsily hoists the duffel bag onto his lap. When he unzips it, a seemingly endless expanse of cash reveals itself. 

“I’m sure it will be a great relief to be free of all the many, many people to whom you owe that money,” Loretta says.

“It will. Yeah. Thank you.” He touches a hand to his graying beard. “There’s really no going back now, huh?”

“That’s exactly the point, Doctor,” Loretta says with a sneer. “Now Molly Taylor will know precisely how it feels to mourn a son prematurely — the same way I was forced to do.”

END OF EPISODE 1043

What did Loretta pay Dr. Longo to do?
How much will a teen Sophie complicate Jason’s life?
Is Diane crazy for leaving the cruise early?
Discuss all the week’s stories in the comments below!

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