Previously…
– Jaq showed up at the hospital and insisted upon visiting a comatose Samantha.
– The night of the King’s Bay Academy Prom arrived. Christian became upset after Marcus asked Bree to dance.
– Molly and Brent were shocked when a woman arrived at their door and introduced herself as Dr. Longo’s lawyer. She presented them with a letter from the late doctor.

Brent Taylor frantically peers over his ex-wife‘s shoulder to read the note she has just opened.

Your daughter survived.

Those are the only three words written in black Sharpie on the sheet of paper. There is no salutation, no signature, nothing else.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Brent asks the attorney who stands just on the other side of the doorway.

“No. At least, not as far as I’m aware,” the plainly dressed woman with graying hair replies. “I was left instructions to deliver this to you in the event of Dr. Longo’s untimely death.”

“Daughter?” Molly says, still staring at the paper. “But they told us…”

“They told us our baby was a boy,” Brent says. “They told us a lot of things.” 

“I wish I were able to explain this,” the attorney tells them. “I thought it might pertain to your lawsuit against the hospital…”

“It does. In a way.” Molly struggles to catch her breath, so bowled over is she by this delivery. “Our baby never died.”

“If we can believe anything that man ever said,” Brent adds.

Molly shakes her head insistently. “Our baby didn’t– didn’t die during childbirth. And she was a girl. Brent, we have a daughter out there somewhere.”

—–

“Okay, that felt a little sketch,” Caleb Taylor says before letting out a giant exhale. 

“It’s fine,” Jasmine Knight reassures him as she slips her arm through his. With several friends tailing them, the group rounds the corner from behind the King’s Bay Academy auditorium and heads for the entrance to the gymnasium. The doorway is flanked by a slew of balloons, and the thump of loud music can be heard from inside.

Caleb leans closer toward Jasmine. “You can’t smell weed on me, can you?”

She sniffs his shoulder and then his brown hair. “No. You’re good. I promise. Why are you so paranoid?”

He looks at her and smirks. “Uh, ‘cuz I’m stoned?”

Jasmine snickers.

“Also ‘cuz I can’t afford to get in trouble this close to graduation.”

“I swear you’re good,” Jasmine says before planting a kiss on his cheek. “I can’t believe we’re actually going to Prom. It’s so… mainstream.”

“Still. You only get to do Prom once,” Caleb says. “You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?”

“Hell, no.” She reaches down and squeezes his hand. “You ready?”

“I guess so.” Caleb turns to his friends, who are trailing them by several  years. “Come on, losers!”

They step into the gym’s vestibule, and the sounds of “Peaches” by Justin Bieber, Daniel Caesar, and Giveon becomes even louder.

“You have the tickets on your phone, right?” Jasmine asks as they slide into the line.

Caleb nods and is removing his iPhone from the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket when he sees his brother hurrying out of the auditorium.

“Christian. Hey,” he says, and only then does his twin look up and notice Caleb. Immediately Caleb can tell that something is wrong — Christian looks as if he is fighting tears.

“What’s up?” Caleb asks.

“Uh, nothing,” Christian responds, but his throat sounds constricted. “I’m, uh, I just need some air.” 

He pushes past them and half-jogs out of the auditorium.

“What was that?” Jasmine asks. “Is he drunk?”

“I dunno,” Caleb says, but as he strains to peer inside the gym, something catches his eye: Bree Halston and Marcus Gray dancing together.

“Shit,” he mutters, glancing back at the door that his brother just disappeared through.

“Samantha, if you can hear me… and I hope you can…”

Jaq Pearson speaks slowly and thoughtfully as they stand at Samantha Fisher’s bedside in the hospital’s ICU. They stare down at their comatose ex, her face seeming strangely peaceful in light of the duress that her body is under, the fight that her system and spirit are waging against injury and trauma. 

“You have so much to fight for,” Jaq says. “So much to come back for. There are a lot of people who love you: your mom and dad, your brothers, your cousins — you are a lucky woman, Sam.”

Jaq sucks in a sharp, sudden breath, as if a tidal wave of emotion has hit them out of the blue.

“I’m one of those people, too,” Jaq continues. “I loved you, and I still love you, and I am so sorry for screwing it up. You are so good, and so pure — I was luckier than I realized to get to be by your side.”

Behind Jaq, in the doorway of the hospital room, Samantha’s parents linger, keeping their attention fixed on their daughter’s visitor.

“This wasn’t a mistake, was it?” Diane Bishop whispers.

“No. I don’t think so,” Tim Fisher replies in an equally hushed tone. “They seem pretty emotional.”

“Yeah, well, being emotional is what got them to frame Tempest in the first place.”

“You make a good point.” Tim folds his arms. “But I really do think it’s okay.”

“I just hope hearing their voice doesn’t make Samantha want to stay in that coma.”

Tim’s mouth curls into the beginnings of a grin. “You are terrible.”

“Thank you,” Diane says. “But no — I think I made the right call. Sam was pretty impressed that Jaq was the one who tipped us off as to where Zane had taken Tori.”

“And that took guts,” Tim says. “Especially since it might mean incurring Zane’s wrath.”

Diane hesitates, watching for a few silent seconds as Jaq speaks quietly to Samantha, and then continues quietly, “I hope that psycho stays in prison for a long time. But yeah. It was relatively brave.”

“It was brave.”

“Fine, fine.” 

“I’m serious. They could’ve been putting themself in his crosshairs by doing that.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Diane says. “I just hope that doesn’t sway Sam too much when she wakes up.”

Tim turns toward Diane. “Funny that you’re the one saying that, considering you’re also the one who put Samantha in Jaq’s sights to begin with.”

“How was I supposed to know they’d turn out to be a loon?” she shoots back.

“I’m just saying. And it’s still a miracle they came through and helped find Tori.”

“Yeah, it is.” Diane abruptly looks to the ceiling, a gesture that Tim recognizes well.

“What?” he asks. 

“Excuse me?”

“What are you thinking? I know that look of ‘Diane just got an idea’ very well. Too well.”

“Diane did just get an idea,” she says as she fishes her phone out of her purse. “Give me a minute.”

“What are you doing?” he asks, dropping the whisper as Diane steps back from the doorway.

“Something that could be good for everyone,” she says with a wink as she scrolls through her phone and then places it to her ear.

—–

After the attorney who delivered Dr. Longo’s note departs, Molly and Brent move to the living room, although adrenaline makes it impossible for either to sit down.

“He’s telling the truth,” Molly says, still grasping the paper in her hand. “I know he is.”

“Mol…” Brent runs a hand over his eyes. “I just want to make sure…”

“Make sure of what? Our baby was a girl. This letter says it.”

“This letter written by a doctor who lied to us that our baby died,” he reminds her.

“Brent, it all makes sense. It all fits together,” she says, her words running together. “Elly told us that Loretta wanted her to make sure the lawsuit fell apart. Why? Because she had something to do with it. She must have.”

He nods slowly, methodically, unable to disagree with her. 

“I’m just trying to keep my police instincts separate from my instincts as a father,” he says at last. “Because I want to believe this so badly–“

“Then believe it!” She holds up the note. “Why would Longo have given his lawyer orders to deliver this to us? He knew his life was in danger.”

“And Loretta had him lie that our baby was a boy,” Brent says. “But there was never a cremation.”

“No. Because she’s alive. She was dropped off at the police station, Brent. That had to be her.”

“Gabrielle? It’s a small world, but that small?”

“How many babies were abandoned anonymously that week who would be the same age as ours?”

“But why would they drop the baby in King’s Bay?” Brent wonders. 

Molly shrugs. “Maybe someone screwed up. Maybe it was Longo. That could be why Loretta had him killed–“

“–if he confessed to her, or she figured it out–“

“–or he wanted to pin it on her to get out of the lawsuit.”

They stare at each other in stunned silence for a moment. 

“Come on,” Molly says, breaking for the entryway again.

“Where are you going?”

“We have to go tell Travis and Rosie. We need to do a DNA test on that baby.”

“Mol. Hang on,” Brent says as he tails her.

“Brent, that little girl could be our daughter. I’m not waiting another minute–” 

“It’s late. The baby is probably asleep. And this is pretty huge to just drop in their laps out of nowhere.”

Molly’s eyes flare wide. “Do you not want her back?”

“All I’m saying is, let’s go through the proper channels,” Brent tells her. “Their adoption isn’t finalized yet, which means the state is technically responsible for Gabrielle. I just don’t want to risk going about this wrong and messing it up.”

It takes a few seconds, but Molly’s shoulders drop in defeat, or at least in acceptance.

“Let’s call Conrad and Elly, then,” she says. “They’ll have a better idea of what to do.”

—–

Caleb quickly AirDrops Jasmine’s ticket to her phone, assures her that he’ll be right back, and then rushes out of the gym in pursuit of his brother. He finds Christian in a bench on the quad. Faint sounds of the music from Prom can still be heard as he approaches the bench.

“Hey,” Caleb says. “You good?”

Christian looks up with a start. His eyes look red, although it doesn’t seem as if he has actually been crying. But his pain is apparent.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”

Caleb sticks his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo pants. “You sure? I saw Bree and Marcus dancing in there.”

Christian seems stricken but quickly covers. “So?”

“So… they’re dancing, and you’re out here bummed out. I don’t think I’m an idiot for connecting those dots.”

After taking a deep breath, Christian says, “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? It’s your Prom night and you’re out here alone and all unhappy.”

When Christian doesn’t respond, Caleb plants himself on the bench beside him.

“Scoot over, will you? You’re hogging the whole bench,” he grumbles. Christian silently obliges.

“Wanna talk about it?” Caleb asks.

“No.”

“Dude. You always wanna talk.”

“I don’t now.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Christian says emphatically, as if the single word is supposed to convey everything that he is feeling and thinking. 

Caleb gazes off toward the parking lot, as a cheerful group of students file out of a minivan and head toward the gymnasium. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now if you don’t want to,” he says, “but, like… it’s chill.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s 2022, Christian. You’re this, like, smart, cool, creative dude who loves music and Bravo and — our mom is a fashion designer, you know?”

Christian keeps his focus on his brother, but his only response is swallowing a large lump that has formed in his throat.

“And our cousin is a lesbo,” Caleb adds.

“I don’t think ‘lesbo’ is the accepted term.”

“You know what I’m saying.  You’re good, okay? That’s all I mean. Whatever you’re feeling, whenever you feel like talking about it — it’s all chill.”

After a contemplative pause, during which he seems to be evaluating whether this is all a practical joke, Christian replies, “Thanks. Really.”

“You wanna go back in?” Caleb asks as he stands from the bench. “You can hang with us if you want.”

“No way would your friends let me do that.”

“Yeah, they will. I’ll make them. Come on.”

Christian sighs. “Can you not tell them what happened?”

“Of course not,” Caleb says. “Besides, they’re all so stoned they won’t even question where you came from. Let’s go.”

Christian rises from the bench and uneasily follows his twin back to the Prom.

—–

When Jaq finally leaves Samantha’s bedside, Diane and Tim are waiting for them right outside of the hospital room. Diane shoots Tim a knowing look.

“I’m going to go back in and sit with Sam,” he says. “Thanks for coming to visit, Jaq.” He dips back inside the room, leaving Diane and Jaq alone.

“Thanks for letting me do that,” Jaq says.

“Thanks for not making me regret it,” Diane replies. “So far.”

“I’m gonna go.”

“Wait a minute. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Jaq narrows their eyes. “What? I don’t need another lecture–“

“How about an offer?”

“What kind of offer?”

Diane grins. “KBAY’s sister station in Portland has an opening for an Associate Producer. Someone who knows production inside and out but has room to grow into the role…”

“What are you talking about?” Jaq asks, confused.

“I just called the station manager down there and said I have someone very qualified in mind,” Diane explains. “It’s a 25 percent bump over what you’re making as a P.A. now. The job is yours if you want it.”

“What’s the catch?”

“The catch is that you take the job, enjoy the money, and build a life for yourself in Portland,” Diane says. “It’s a great city. Liberal, artsy, still growing.”

“You want to keep me away from Sam,” Jaq says.

“Can you blame me? This is an amazing opportunity, Jaq. Don’t blow it out of spite.”

Jaq sets their jaw but does not respond.

“That raise could go a long way toward offsetting your legal bills,” Diane continues. “And considering how you turned on Zane — which we are very grateful for, by the way — getting yourself out of King’s Bay wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Zane’s in jail.”

“For now.” Diane shrugs. “That’s the offer. Personally, I’d think you were an imbecile if you didn’t take it — and I don’t think you’re a stupid person, Jaq.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jaq says.

“Good. But the station manager needs an answer by tomorrow. So don’t think for too long.”

With a final look, Diane goes inside Samantha’s room and closes the door. Jaq lingers in the hallway, turning over this offer in their mind.

END OF EPISODE 1133

Will Jaq take Diane’s offer and leave town?
What should Molly and Brent do about Gabrielle?
Was Caleb’s talk with Christian surprising?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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