Previously…
– Jaq informed Diane and Sarah that Zane had likely taken Tori to Mount Hood.
– Tori managed to escape from Zane and was reunited with her family.
– Zane lost control of Tori’s car and crashed into the vehicle that Landon was driving, in which Diane and Samantha were passengers. Although Diane and Landon were all right, everyone waited nervously for word of Samantha’s condition.

The steady beeping of machines comes to Tim Fisher as soon as he steps off the elevator. He knows that they are not that loud, that he can’t actually hear them, but as they have become the dominant soundtrack of his past several weeks, his mind anticipates them as soon as he arrives in the ICU. His feet trace the now-familiar path to his daughter‘s hospital room, but he pauses at the doorway when he sees the figure at her bedside. 

Tempest Banks sits in a chair that she has pulled up beside Samantha’s bed. Her head is bowed, but her fingers are curled around Sam’s, holding the comatose woman’s hand as if attempting to transfer some energy, some life, into her. Tim feels a strange contrast of emotions at the sight. On one hand, the reminder of his daughter’s current condition — alive but immobile, unresponsive, her brown hair splayed over the pillow and her eyes closed — threatens to rend his heart; on the other, knowing that she has someone as devoted as Tempest by her side fills him with warmth.

He feels as though he is intruding and even considers making a detour down to the cafeteria to give Tempest some more time alone, but he also knows, based on how the past few weeks have gone, that she might be here all night. So he waits in the doorway and clears his throat.

Upon hearing him, Tempest turns with a start, her head swiveling to reveal a face full of emotion.

“Oh. Hey,” she says, her throat sounding constricted.

“Hi, Tempest,” Tim replies with a quick raise of his hand. He moves into the room. “Any news from the doctors?”

“Nothing.” She lets go of Samantha’s hand, albeit slowly, finger by finger. 

Tim stares at his motionless daughter in the bed. He can picture her distinctive movements as if she were standing here, awake: the way she bounces forward when excited about an idea, or pushes her glasses up on her nose while speaking, or brushes her hair back behind her ear when she is uncertain. He can hardly comprehend how his little girl could be lying here in a coma, with no projection as to when — or if — she might wake up.

“Have you eaten?” he asks Tempest.

She shakes her head. “Not yet. I’ll get something later.”

“You need to take care of yourself, too,” Tim says gently. “Sam would want to make sure of that.”

Tempest looks ruefully at her ex in the hospital bed. “But now we’ve gotta take care of her.”

“And we are. We all are.” 

“Do you think she even knows we’re here? I keep talking to her.”

“She knows,” Tim says, voice brimming with determination for it to be true. “She knows.”

—–

Down on the first floor of the hospital, Diane Bishop exits the cafeteria with a half-full paper cup of coffee in hand. She is striding toward the elevator bank when she sees Isaac Banks to her left, chatting with another doctor. Upon noticing her, Isaac excuses himself and hurries toward Diane.

“No updates,” she says flatly.

Isaac sticks his hands in the pockets of his scrubs, pushing his white doctor’s coat aside. 

“Her body is healing itself,” he says.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” Diane gazes down into the deep brown of her coffee. “It’s been weeks.”

“We all have to have faith.”

“Yeah, and faith has gotten me so far in life,” Diane says derisively. “I never, ever should’ve let her come out there with us.”

“You had no way of knowing–“

“That we were pursuing a dangerous lunatic? Yeah, I kind of did. That was the whole point.”

Isaac opens his mouth to fire back a response but then stops himself. He draws in a deep breath.

“Isaac,” Diane says, “you don’t have to–“

“We’re all pulling for Samantha. Blaming yourself for that psycho crashing into you isn’t gonna make her heal faster.”

She bites her lower lip. “What if she isn’t healing? What if–“

“Don’t even say it.” He holds up his index finger, and for a split second, Diane thinks he might press it to her lips. But he refrains.

But her attention is pulled away by something else — or, rather, someone. And when that person spots Diane, they head right for her and Isaac.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Diane asks Jaq Pearson.

—–

“Now do one with your hands on your hips!”

“Mom! Why?!” Caleb Taylor groans. He and his twin brother stand by the stairs in their mother’s home, clad in their black tuxedos.

“Because my sons only go to Prom once, and I want photos,” Molly responds as she holds her iPhone aloft, awaiting the pose. “Consider it your payment for the custom tuxes.”

“Just go like this,” Christian tells his brother as he plants a hand on each hip. Caleb mimics a much stiffer version of the same pose, and Molly resumes clicking away with her phone’s camera.

“See? Not so bad,” Brent says from behind Molly. “You’re making your mom very happy.”

“Fine, fine,” Caleb says, offering a peace sign in one final pose. “Mom, the tuxes are seriously awesome. Like, we’re gonna have the best fit at the entire Prom.”

Molly looks over her shoulder at Brent. “A ‘fit’ is what we used to call a ‘look.'”

“Can’t you tell I know a thing or two about a fit?” Brent asks with a smile, gesturing at his J. Crew khaki pants and chambray shirt. 

The doorbell rings, interrupting the family photo shoot. 

“That’s them!” Christian shouts, and he bolts to the front door. When he yanks it open, Marcus Gray and Bree Halston are standing on the other side.

“Happy Prom!” Molly calls out. “You both look so nice!”

Marcus wears a rented black tux with a black cummerbund showing through his unbuttoned jacket, while Bree is in a lavender dress that flares out at the waist in tulle that reaches the floor. 

“Thanks,” the two teens say as they step into the house and exchange enthusiastic greetings with Christian and slightly more formal ones with Caleb.

“Here, let’s get a photo of all four of you,” Molly says.

“Mom! I have to get to Arjun’s,” Caleb says. “Everyone’s probably there already.”

“One photo, and you’re released,” she replies, so Caleb complies, huddling with Christian and his friends for another picture, this one with the front door as the backdrop.

“Okay, I’ve really gotta split now,” Caleb announces, and he grabs his keys from the credenza near the door to emphasize his point. “I’ll text you when we get back to Arjun’s after Prom.”

“Be careful!” Brent and Molly say in near-unison. 

“And that car had better stay parked at Arjun’s all night,” Brent adds.

Caleb grumbles his agreement and slips out the door, but not before Molly foists one more hug upon him. 

As the front door closes, Molly looks to Brent and says quietly, “You don’t think it was a mistake letting him go with Jasmine, do you?”

Brent sucks in his lips contemplatively, then glances at the other teens, who are all talking excitedly. Finally he says, “These kids have been through the wringer the past few years. I’m not going to get into a fight with Caleb about Jasmine — besides, he’ll be off to college in a few months, and he’ll have to make his own decisions about how to be responsible.”

“I know, but… I worry.”

“So do I,” Brent says. “But let’s hope Caleb has the maturity to make good decisions.”

—–

Jaq brushes their black bangs out of their eyes as they walk up to Diane and Isaac.

“I came to see how Samantha was doing,” they say. 

“Samantha’s in a coma,” Diane says sharply, “and I’m not sure a visit from someone who lied to and terrorized her is what she needs right now.”

“Okay. I deserve that.” Jaq knits their fingers together awkwardly and stares down at the floor. “I was just hoping…”

“What? That we wouldn’t be here?”

“Kind of. Yeah. I really do care about her. I’m not a terrible person, Diane.”

Diane glares at them for a long moment and then gestures toward Isaac. “Can I introduce you to Dr. Banks? Tempest’s brother?”

Jaq appears immediately cowed, even taking a step back. 

“I am so, so sorry about what I did to Tempest,” they say. “I don’t know how else to prove it — Diane, didn’t you tell everyone what else I did?”

Isaac, who has been observing this verbal tennis match intently, cocks his head. 

“What’d she do?” he asks Diane.

“They,” Diane corrects him. “They tipped us off as to where Zane had taken Tori. They were friends from work, and Zane had mentioned it.”

“Oh,” Isaac says. “Well, I’m sure Tori’s family is grateful–“

“Grateful for what?” another voice demands. All three of them turn to see Tempest approaching.

—–

The campus of King’s Bay Academy is unusually abuzz for a weekend evening. As the sun sinks down behind the gymnasium, students in suits and dresses flock toward the entrance, which is festooned with balloons in navy, silver, and white, befitting of the “A Night to Remember” theme. Christian, Bree, and Marcus walk the lengthy cement path from the parking lot to the Prom. 

“I feel kind of guilty having fun like this while Samantha’s in the hospital,” Christian says.

“I know,” Bree replies somberly. “My mom said nothing has changed.”

“That really sucks. We all knew Zane was bad news,” Marcus says. “I still can’t believe Tori is safe.”

Christian nods his head. “Yeah. It’s amazing she got away from him.”

They reach the entrance and use their phones to show their digital tickets to the Student Council members working the entry table. Soon enough, they are inside the gym, which has been transformed for the special night with more balloons and curtains. “As It Was” by Harry Styles is currently playing over the speaker system.

“Look at you three!” Jake Gray says as he approaches them. The school’s athletic director wears a tan blazer over a white t-shirt and jeans. He clasps Marcus’s hand for a shake and then pulls his son in for a hug.

“Dad, you said you wouldn’t embarrass me,” Marcus says.

“I’m embarrassing you by saying hi? Jeez.” Jake grins at Christian and Bree. “Well, for the rest of the night I’m only a faculty chaperone and not your dad. Deal?”

Marcus smiles. “Deal.”

“But I hope you ask this lovely lady to dance at some point,” Jake says. “That’s what Prom is for.”

Bree blushes. 

“We all came as friends,” Marcus says.

“I know that,” Jake replies. “Just saying. I’ll pretend to be a stranger the rest of the night now. You kids have fun.”

“We will,” Christian says, and Marcus’s father moves off to go mingle with another group of faculty chaperones. The three teens begin to merge into the crowd of their peers. 

—–

“What does this sneaky heffa and their sideways hair have to do with Tori?” Tempest asks roughly as she marches toward the trio in the hospital lobby.

“That’s rude,” Jaq says, self-consciously touching their black hair. 

“This is the person who got me arrested,” Tempest tells Isaac.

“I’m aware,” he says. “Look, Jaq, I don’t think you need to be here.”

“All I want to do is go see Samantha and say a few words,” Jaq replies. 

Tempest scoffs loudly. 

“Jaq was just reminding us that they’re the one who told Sarah and me where Zane had probably taken Tori,” Diane says. 

“You what?” Tempest says, doing an exaggerated double-take.

“Zane had said something about wanting to get a cabin up at Mount Hood to elope with Tori,” Diane explains. “Jaq heard Sarah and I panicking and strategizing and came in to offer that information.”

Tempest narrows her eyes. “Aren’t you friends with Zane? From work?”

Jaq nods. “I am. Was. I don’t know. When I found out Tori was in trouble — I had to.”

All four of them fall silent. 

“Okay, you know what?” Diane says. “Ten minutes. You can see Samantha.”

“Really?” Jaq asks, eyes flaring wide.

“I’m coming up with you and not leaving you alone with her. But yes.”

“Tim’s up there with her,” Tempest says, as if that might sway Diane.

“And Tim’s a nicer person than me,” Diane says. “Come on, Jaq. Before I regret this.”

Diane takes off for the elevator bay. With Tempest still glowering at them, an incredulous Jaq scurries after Diane.

—–

Dua Lipa’s “Levitating” fills the gymnasium as students dance and chaperones line the perimeter of the room. 

“Do you guys see Caleb anywhere?” Christian asks as looks over the snack table, with Bree and Marcus flanking him.

“I haven’t seen him,” Bree says as she puts a few baby carrots and pieces of celery on a plate.

“Yo, who bought these?” Marcus asks as he picks up a pink, sprinkle-colored circus animal cookie from a platter.

Christian’s mouth opens wide. “I haven’t had one of those since I was a little kid!”

“Me, neither. And they’re nasty,” Marcus says.

“They are not.” Christian looks to Bree. “What do you think?”

As the song ends, the softer, piano-based sounds of Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved” take over. Students pair off into couples for the slow dance.

“I like them,” she says with a shrug.

Marcus mimes gagging and then shoves the pink cookie into Christian’s palm. “Then you eat it!”

“No, I’m gonna make you love them!” Christian says. He holds up the cookie to Marcus’s face, but Marcus reacts by sealing his lips shut.

“Come on, open up!” Christian teases, as he places the cookie up against Marcus’s mouth. They struggle with one another, laughing as their bodies press into one another. 

Suddenly Marcus looks over and sees his father, who is in the midst of chatting with the biology teacher, watching them.

“I’m serious,” Marcus says, standing up straight and taking a step back. “Those are sick. I’m not eating ’em.”

“Okay,” Christian says with confusion.

Marcus again glances over, to see Jake still observing them.

“Hey, uh, Bree. You wanna dance?” Marcus asks. He holds out a hand toward her.

“Oh! Sure. That sounds great.” She looks around for a place to set her plate, then extends it toward Christian. “Could you…”

“Yeah. Totally.” He takes the plate with a forced smile. “You guys go ahead.”

As Marcus and Bree merge into the sea of dancing couples, Christian stands by the snack table, holding Bree’s plate. With a sigh, he pops the pink cookie into his mouth and then walks off toward the wall, doing his best not to watch his friends as they dance.

—–

“I really cannot believe our sons are at Prom,” Molly says as she hands Brent a glass of red wine. 

“You’re telling me.” He leans forward on the love seat to accept the wine. 

Molly comes around the coffee table, on which she places her own glass, and then takes a seat beside Brent. He takes a sip of his wine, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“It’s not exactly how I thought their Prom night would look,” he says, “but I’m glad we could both be there for them tonight, Mol.”

She smiles. “Me, too. Even if we aren’t together, it means a lot that we can still co-parent so well.”

“To us,” Brent says, raising his glass. Molly picks up her own and clinks it against his.

After they each finish another sip of wine, Brent says, “I also wouldn’t have expected us to have that, um, encore we had a few years ago, either.”

She grins. “Encore, eh?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m going to guess that most divorced co-parents also don’t share a near-death experience at the hands of a drug kingpin,” she says. “But yes. That was unexpected…”

Their eyes lock. Brent opens his mouth to speak but can’t quite find the words. A sense of anticipation buzzes between them–

And then the doorbell rings, interrupting them.

“Um, I’ll, I should get that,” Molly says a bit clumsily as she attempts to regain her bearings. Brent stands to follow her into the entryway.

When Molly opens the front door, she finds a middle-aged woman with graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses standing there. The woman wears a white blouse and olive-colored slacks, without much in the way of jewelry or other adornments. 

“Molly Taylor?” the woman asks.

“Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?”

“I know this is unorthodox, but I felt I should attend to this myself. I am — was — Joseph Longo’s attorney. And in the course of executing his will and sorting out his estate, I came across this.”

She hands Molly a standard-sized white envelope. On the front, Molly sees her own name written.

“Dr. Longo left instructions that, in the event of his untimely death, this be delivered to you.”

“What is it?” Brent asks from behind Molly.

The attorney shakes her head. “I haven’t a clue. I’m only following the instructions I was given.”

Molly’s nervous fingers scramble to open the envelope. When she pulls out the piece of paper contained inside, she reads for only a few seconds before gasping loudly.

“What is it?” Brent asks.

“Our baby,” Molly says breathlessly. “It’s about our baby.”

END OF EPISODE 1132

What has Dr. Longo’s letter revealed?
What is going on among Christian, Marcus, and Bree?
Should Diane allow Jaq to see Samantha?
Talk about all this and more in the comments below!

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