Previously…
– Diane was shocked to learn that Brian is now married to his long-ago girlfriend, Kelsey Barker, who is also pregnant with his child.
– Loretta left her car in a parking structure and was picked up by Eric Westin, who took her back to the location where Rosie and Gabrielle are being kept — but both Natalie and the police were on her tail.
– Brent realized that Rosie and Gabrielle are being held in Nick Moriani’s old house. In the basement, he found Eric Westin, and the men fired guns at each other.
– Travis, Molly, and Natalie watched in shock from outside as the Moriani house exploded.

A deafening boom rocks the entire street, and shards of glass hurtle through the air as the windows of the old Moriani home explode outward. 

“No!” Molly Taylor screams with horror from her position out on the street. “Nooooooo!”

Orange flames appear out of nowhere, devouring the house.

Molly thrusts out a hand to steady herself against Natalie Bishop‘s car. Natalie sits in the driver’s seat with the window down, staring wide-eyed at the house that has combusted right before her. Travis Fisher stands just beside the car, sucking in shallow, panicked breaths as he processes what he is watching.

“Brent!” Molly shouts. “He’s in there–“

“I’m–” Natalie fumbles to pull her phone from her purse, which is sitting on the passenger seat. “I’m calling 911.” Her shaky fingers stab at the buttons on the phone’s display.

Travis sees neighbors emerging from their own homes, drawn outside by the unbelievably loud blast and the hot, wild fire now dancing all over the Moriani property. He watches Natalie place the emergency call, but it looks as if she is moving in slow-motion, as if the fire has the opportunity to expand exponentially between each movement of her mouth against the phone.

“I have to go in there,” he says through a gasp, surging forward.

Molly grabs his sleeve, tugging him back. “Travis. No–“

“Rosie is in there,” he says. “Gabrielle is–” He shakes his head, overwhelmed by even the thought of what this could mean. 

“Maybe they aren’t,” Molly tells him. “Maybe we were all wrong.”

Travis grits his teeth as he stares at the burning house. All he wants to do is rush in there and find his wife and daughter. The prospect of standing around while they are trapped inside is too horrible to bear. Again he lurches forward, sheer terror propelling him toward the house. But again Molly grabs him by the shirt to stop him.

“I’m not letting you go in there,” she says. “Your father would never forgive me if I let you run in there to…” She can’t even finish the statement.

“There’s been an explosion,” Natalie says into the phone. “A house is on fire — there are people trapped inside–“

Travis stares at the bright, ominous flames, licking at every inch of the house, and then drops to his knees right there on the pavement.

—–

“She seems like she’s doing well,” Diane Bishop says as she and Tim Fisher return to his living room, after having helped their daughter into bed in the ground-floor guest room. “Better than yesterday, and definitely better than the day before.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees. “I was so worried that she would wake up and not seem like… Samantha. But she’s herself, and all the physical stuff — that, we can deal with.”

Diane nods and begins gathering the Thai takeout containers spread over the coffee table, where the three just had a casual dinner. She frowns at the sheer amount of food still left.

“Looks like you won’t have to worry about lunch tomorrow,” she says. “Or maybe dinner.”

“Thank you for bringing food,” he says as he helps her clean up. “And now that it’s just us… want to tell me why Brian didn’t come?”

Stooped over the table, Diane freezes. “What do you mean? He had some last-minute work stuff–“

“That’s what you said in front of Samantha. Now I’m asking for the truth.” He levels a no-nonsense stare at her. “You’ve been distracted since you walked through the door.”

She is about to offer another rebuttal — but as the words form in her head, it all feels like too much. Her shoulders slump as she lets out a sigh.

“Um, I got a rather interesting call right before I went to pick up the food,” she says. “Or, I should say, Brian did.” With that, she launches into an explanation of how she overheard Brian telling someone over the phone that he was keeping something from her, so she decided to get into his phone to figure out who he was talking to, except a FaceTime call came in and Diane accidentally answered it and, suddenly, there was Kelsey Barker, referring to Brian as her husband. 

“And he has the nerve to be angry at me for trying to sneak a look at his phone,” she seethes. “When he was the one keeping an entire marriage and unborn child from me!”

“The way he explained it — or how you explained his explanation to me — it does make sense,” Tim says. 

“How does that make sense?!”

“He thought it would be insensitive to respond to a phone call about your daughter being in a coma by telling you that he’d eloped with his ex.”

“It would have been!”

Tim squints with confusion. “So you agree that what he did made sense.”

“No!” Diane exclaims. “It’s been a long time since Sam went into the coma. And she’s been awake for days.”

“He probably felt awkward telling you since he had kept it a secret. Maybe he was looking for the right way to bring it out.”

“Why are you defending Brian?”

Rather than fire back a response, Tim takes a step back from the coffee table and waits a beat. Diane glares at him; he can tell that the pause is getting her even more whipped up and knows that he has to keep his tone neutral and non-confrontational if he stands a chance of getting anywhere with her.

“I mention this with no judgment,” he finally says, “but is it possible that you’re a little bit jealous that Brian is back together with Kelsey?”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous of that?!”

Tim is once again carefully searching for words when he hears his cell phone ringing. It takes him a moment to realize that it is in the kitchen. Anxious that it might be news about Rosie and Gabrielle, he darts in there without even excusing himself. 

“Travis,” he says as he answers, having seen his son’s name on the caller ID. “Did you– What?”

Having followed him into the kitchen, Diane watches the color drain from Tim’s face as he listens to the information from the other end of the line.

—–

Down in the basement of the Moriani house, Rosie Jimenez cannot hear what is happening just outside of the small room where she and Gabrielle have been trapped for days; she ascertained almost immediately that the room had been soundproofed, that screaming for help would be fruitless. And although she does not know exactly where she is, and she does not hear the confrontation between Brent Taylor and Eric Westin or the gunshots that they fire, she feels the explosion when it happens. The entire structure seems to lurch hard one way and then snap back to the other before thumping hard into the ground. 

Immediately Gabrielle begins crying. 

“It’s okay,” Rosie tells the little girl, but she knows that this is very much not okay. Seconds later, she feels the wild heat of flames. She cannot see them, but the way the air seems to heat up all around them makes it clear what is going on.

She forces herself to swallow whatever panicked exclamation is trying to push its way up through her throat. 

Instead she pats Gabrielle’s head. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m gonna make sure we’re okay.”

Gabrielle wails even louder. 

Rosie goes to the door. She knows all too well that it is padlocked and chained on the other side. But she has no idea what else to do, so she pounds her fists against the door.

“Help!” she shouts, hammering relentlessly in hopes that there might be someone out there. “Help us! Please!”

—–

Brent can still hear the loud, crashing boom inside his head. It seems distant, not even real — and it continues echoing through his mind even as he feels the intense heat closing in around him.

He jolts upright with a start. It takes him seconds, terrifying seconds, to get at least some of his bearings. The grey cinder block walls jar him into recalling that he is in the basement of Nick Moriani‘s old house. Through a curtain of smoke and flame, he sees a man slumped on the floor. Eric Westin. Brent has no idea if the bullet he fired is what felled Westin, or if it was the explosion–

The smell, he realizes suddenly. Gas. 

Westin must’ve hit the gas line.

Using his sleeve to cover his nose and mouth, Brent struggles to pull himself to a standing position. His prosthetic leg feels loose, probably knocked off-kilter when he hit the floor, but there is no time to adjust it now. He hobbles as carefully as he can, avoiding the sizzling flames, smoke clouding his vision, to the second door — the one that he is sure Rosie and Gabrielle must be behind.

“Jimenez!” he screams. “Are you in there?” For emphasis, he pounds on the door. And although he cannot hear anything from within the room, which he assumes was soundproofed, he can feel the vibration coming from the other side. He is sure that someone — Rosie — is knocking forcefully on it.

His burning eyes water as he begins pulling at the chains that cover the door. But he cannot pull them loose without opening the padlock.

He stares at the spinning wheel on the metal lock and tries to will his brain to figure it out. Numbers… combinations… he haphazardly tries the three-digit street address of the house, but the lock does not open.

“Westin!” he screams, darting back toward the unconscious man. Brent is relieved that Eric is still breathing, but there is no guarantee that that will be enough. He uses both hands to shake the other man. “Westin! Wake up!”

—–

Outside, sirens light up the now-black sky. Urgent strobes of red and blue compete with the brilliant orange and yellow of the raging fire, creating a light show that no one asked for. Travis, Molly, and Natalie, who has stepped out of her car, watch as emergency vehicles crowd the scene. 

“Is anyone inside?” a firefighter rushing by calls out as loudly as he can. 

“My wife and daughter,” Travis says with desperation. “And my uncle.”

“Police Commander Taylor,” Molly adds.

“And two other officers, I think,” Natalie says. “Plus an old lady–“

The firefighter nods, already moving on, as the crew advances on the house with powerful hoses.

“Please help them!” Molly cries.

The three of them watch in disbelief as the crew fires heavy streams of water at the blaze.

A dark thought crosses Natalie’s mind, and she bites down on her lower lip, hating herself for feeling a wave of elation at it, especially knowing that there are people in there who do deserve to be saved: Maybe Loretta won’t make it out. Maybe that cruel bitch is finally done.

—–

Flames crackle all around Brent, moving ever closer to him, as he tries to shake Eric Westin awake. But even though the man is breathing, he does not stir. His body flails like a wet noodle.

“Damn you!” Brent shouts before dropping Westin back to the basement floor. 

Again he shields his eyes, nose, and mouth from the smoke as best he can as he navigates through the increasingly darkening space, now filled with thick puffs of grey and black that seem determined to eat every last molecule of oxygen.

Brent feels himself growing lightheaded as he spins the lock again, trying three random combinations before realizing that he is never going to guess the correct one with no clues whatsoever. He glances around, desperate to find something that he can use to hack away the lock or the chains: a wrench, a pipe, anything. 

His hand curls around the lock — and that’s when he feels it.

—–

“Someone’s out there!” Rosie gasps. Although she can feel the powerful heat from the fire, and she can smell smoke coming through the air duct, the small, brick-enclosed room is so sealed that the fire has not yet penetrated it. 

She bangs her fists against the door furiously, a hammering noise that only makes Gabrielle cry louder. 

“It’s okay, Gabrielle,” Rosie says, needing to believe that it will be.

—–

Brent almost can’t believe it when he feels the small piece of paper against his finger. Quickly he flips the lock around, revealing something that seems nothing short of miraculous. 

It is a sticker, placed there by the manufacturer, with the combination printed on it.

“Oh my god,” he says with desperate, rushing relief, as his fingers frantically spin the wheel to undo the padlock.

—–

“Sorry, kid. I don’t know where your mom is,” Spencer Ragan tells his son. Spencer is standing beside the expansive granite island in his kitchen, while Peter sits on one of the tall bar chairs at the breakfast nook.

“But Mommy said she would read to me tonight!” Peter replies indignantly. 

“Mommy must be busy. How about I read to you tonight, and Mommy will read you an extra-special book tomorrow night?”

“No!” The young boy slams his fists down on the counter.

“Peter!” Spencer snaps. But as he is recalibrating his reaction so as not to blow up at Peter — or take Natalie’s frustrating lack of communication out on him — he hears the front door opening.

“Natalie?” Spencer asks loudly enough to be heard down the hallway. Yet no response comes.

At least not until the redhead saunters into the kitchen, designer purse dangling from her forearm.

“I’m afraid it’s only me,” Loretta Ragan says with a smile.

END OF EPISODE 1154

Who will make it out of the fire alive?
Did Loretta’s reappearance shock you?
Is Tim right about Diane’s reaction?
Discuss it all in the comments below!