Previously…
– After being granted supervised visitation with Gabrielle at a preliminary hearing, Brent and Molly decided to get remarried before the custody trial begins.
– Tim was shocked when he arrived at the safehouse to find Sonja and TJ gone.
– Christian confided in Sophie about how Robbie rejected him — and how Robbie claimed to be involved with Sabrina, too.

Luke Combs’ cover of “Fast Car” plays over the sound system as customers pick up their morning shots of caffeine from Thaw Coffee & Tea. Sabrina Gage works behind the counter, fulfilling orders as quickly as she can while she quietly hums along to the song.

When the door that connects the café to Edge of Winter Arena swings open, Sabrina glances to her left reflexively. It’s then that she sees Sophie Fisher leading her father into the shop by the hand. Sophie’s dark eyes immediately fix upon Sabrina.

“Sophie, what is this all about?” Jason asks, exasperated, as his daughter leads him right to the end of the bar, where Sabrina is putting the finishing touches on a customer’s almond milk latté.

“Hi,” Sabrina says uneasily, catching a strange vibe from the pair. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that your little game is over!” Sophie declares.

Sabrina looks at the raven-haired teenager with confusion, then turns to Jason. “What game?”

All Jason can do is shrug his shoulders and shake his head.

“Come on, Soph,” he says. “We need to get you to school.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you hear the truth,” Sophie says.

Sabrina’s cheeks turn warm as she feels customers’ eyes landing upon them. She clasps a lid onto the drink she has been making.

“Order up for Raquel!” she calls out.

A middle-aged woman with a wavy brown bob hairstyle comes up to the counter and grabs the cup.

“Soph, we can talk about this — whatever this is — in the car,” Jason says.

“No,” Sophie replies. “You need to hear the truth now!”

“What truth?” Jason asks, his annoyance clear.

“About what your little girlfriend has been up to,” Sophie sneers. “How she’s been cheating on you!”

—–

“Do you want to take it with you?” Molly Taylor asks. She is crouched on the living room floor inside her home, where Gabrielle has been playing with a stuffed pink bunny that Molly bought in advance of today’s supervised visit.

Gabrielle nods excitedly and clutches the bunny close, smothering it with an enthusiastic hug. Molly smiles at the little girl’s pure joy.

“I think that’s a yes,” Brent Taylor, who is sitting in a nearby chair, comments.

“I think so, too,” Molly says. She looks to the social worker, a short-haired woman in a black pantsuit and plain white blouse who is seated on the loveseat by the window. “Is it all right if she takes it?”

The social worker nods. “Of course.”

“Then you can play with this when you get home, too,” Molly tells Gabrielle. “And every time you do, you can think of your dad and me, okay?”

Gabrielle stares back at her with confusion for a moment, then resumes playing with the bunny, making it hop over the carpet.

The social worker rises from the loveseat. “We really do need to be going now. The visitation officially ended two minutes ago.”

Molly does her best to suppress an irritated huff from escaping her lips. Two minutes? She turns to Brent and sees that he understands her frustration, but he shoots her a wide-eyed look urging her to keep it to herself for the time being. The social worker gathers her bag, Gabrielle, and the bunny, and within seconds, they are all at the front door.

“We’ll see you very soon,” Molly says to Gabrielle as the social worker carries the toddler across the threshold. “We love you.”

“We love you,” Brent echoes, and he stands beside Molly as they watch Gabrielle be carried out to the driveway. Although the little girl eyes them the entire way, she does not return their waves or say anything further.

Once the social worker’s Toyota starts up and begins to pull out of the circular driveway, Molly lets out a loud sigh.

“That went well… right?” she asks.

“It went great,” Brent reassures her. “She didn’t cry at all this time. And she actually played a lot. I’d say that’s progress.”

“Yeah.” Molly’s gaze lingers on the Toyota as it pulls out of the driveway. Once it is gone, she closes the door. “I can’t believe that’s it.”

“That isn’t it–“

“It is for now,” she counters. “An hour with our daughter? That’s all we get?”

Brent wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer. “This is temporary. And we’re getting to spend time with her. She’s getting to know us. That’s what’s important right now.”

Molly leans her head against his chest.

“It isn’t enough,” she says. “I wish it were… but it isn’t.”

—–

Rosie Jimenez sits on the floral printed sofa in her mother‘s living room, elbows on her knees. She rocks forward and back ever so slightly as she attempts to focus on the Seattle Mariners game playing on the TV, but she finds it impossible to pay attention for more than 15 or 20 seconds at a time before her mind sweeps her away again.

“Thought you could use this,” her husband says as he enters the room with a mug that has a tea bag’s label dangling out of it.

“Huh?” Rosie looks at him with a start. “Oh. Tea? Sure. Thanks.”

With a sympathetic grin, Travis hands her the mug and then sits down beside her. The two remain in silence for several seconds, save for the drone of the TV in the background.

“This is horrible. I get it,” Travis says.

“I know there’s nothing to worry about. At least not right this second,” Rosie says, placing the tea on the coffee table with a clink. “But I feel so useless sitting here watching stupid baseball while Gabrielle is with some court-appointed stranger hanging out with people who are also basically strangers.”

Travis begins to rub her back in broad, soothing circles. “I know. But she’s safe. And she does know Aunt Molly and Uncle Brent, at least a little. She’s met them before, and they’ve had visitations–“

“Still. How do you even try to explain this to a kid her age? It seems so weird and formal.”

“It is weird and formal,” Travis agrees, as his eyes stray to the television. He watches it for a long moment while he attempts to figure out what else to say. “But again, she’s safe, she’ll be back here in about half-an-hour, and she’s spending the night with us tonight. Because she’s our daughter.”

“Except she’s their daughter, too,” Rosie says. “This is so fucked up.”

“Beyond.”

The two lapse into quiet again, only jolting out of it when the doorbell rings.

“It’s too soon for her to be back, isn’t it?” Rosie asks.

“I think so, but…” Travis springs to his feet. “Maybe not?” He hurries to the door, Rosie right behind him, but when he opens it, they find that it isn’t the social worker and Gabrielle standing there.

“Rosie, I need your help,” Tim Fisher says. Waves of desperation are radiating off him, from his restless posture to his mussed hair to his wild eyes.

“Dad. What’s up?” Travis asks with concern.

“It’s TJ,” Tim tells them. “And Sonja. They’re gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?” Rosie questions, her voice shifting into a more confident, law-enforcement mode.

“I went to the apartment — I was supposed to see TJ this morning — and…” Tim trails off, overwhelmed, and then lifts his gaze to give them a pleading look. “They’re gone. Their clothes are gone. Sonja’s phone is turned off. They’re gone.”

“Shit,” Rosie says, already reaching for her iPhone. “We’re gonna find them, Tim. I promise.”

She steps away from the door, phone pressed to her ear.

“Don’t panic,” Travis tells his father. “If anyone can find them, it’s my wife.”

Tim sucks in his lips and nods, though his dread is still palpable as Travis ushers him inside the house.

Inside Edge of Winter Arena, Christian Taylor sits on the bleachers with his knees pulled up toward his chest. Out on the rink, an attendant drives the Zamboni, leaving long stretches of wet, fresh ice in its wake.

“Well, thanks for telling me,” Bree Halston says from the bench above where Christian is seated. She is still in her black leggings from practice, with a sweatshirt now layered over the top half of her body. “I’m flattered that you would trust me that much.”

“You’re my best friend,” Christian replies.

Bree offers him a heartening smile. “And you’re mine. Still, it can’t be easy to not only come out to someone, but to tell all about how that guy treated you like crap…”

“Yeah.” Christian sighs. “Sophie was so nonchalant about it. Which is cool, but it feels like a big deal, you know?”

“It is a big deal. And it sucks, but the reality is that we don’t live in a world where everyone is as accepting as Sophie.”

“True, but–” Christian stops mid-thought as something catches his eye.

“What?” Bree asks.

He continues staring into the distance. Bree follows his gaze and discovers that he is looking through the glass door that connects the arena to Thaw.

“What’s wrong?” she presses.

“I think we should get out of here,” he tells her, scrambling to his feet.

“What? Why?”

“Trust me on this one.”

Christian grabs her hand, pulling her up, as well. They hustle out the arena’s front doors. As they move through the parking lot, Bree catches a glimpse inside Thaw, where she sees Jason and Sophie standing by the end of the counter, having what appears to be a heated conversation with Sabrina, who is wearing her blue barista’s apron.

—–

In the coffee shop, both Jason and Sabrina gawk at Sophie in shock. Customers watch the dramatic scene as it plays out.

“This– this isn’t the time or place,” Jason says, tripping over his words as he struggles to process the accusation that Sophie has just made.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sophie,” Sabrina adds. She glances around, hoping that anyone who might have heard Sophie’s claim will just as quickly understand that it is nonsense.

Sophie glowers at her. “Does the name Robbie ring a bell?”

“Robbie?” Sabrina repeats. “What about him?”

“Who’s Robbie?!” Jason asks.

“He’s that guy I went to the exhibit with,” Sabrina explains. “The one from my photography class–“

“The creep,” Jason fills in.

Sophie’s head snaps toward her father. “You knew about this?!”

“Sophie, this is not what you think it is,” Sabrina says.

“It’s also wildly inappropriate.” Jason places a hand on Sophie’s back to nudge her toward the exit. “You are so out-of-line.”

“I’m trying to help you!” Sophie shouts.

“Keep your voice down,” Jason says through gritted teeth. “Let’s go.” He looks to Sabrina. “I’m sorry about this.”

“It’s okay,” she replies limply, though she seems deflated by the incident. “I swear, nothing is going on between Robbie and me.”

“I believe you.”

“Dad, I swear I’m not lying,” Sophie insists.

“Then you have your information very mixed-up,” he says, briskly ushering her to the shop’s front door. In a louder voice, he announces to both no one and everyone, “I’m sorry about this.”

Soon father and daughter are outside in the parking lot.

“What did you think you were doing in there?” Jason asks, his anger now spilling over. “I thought we were making progress in therapy.”

Sophie folds her arms. “We were. At least until I found out about what Sabrina’s been doing behind your back.”

“That guy is a classmate of hers. He invited her to some exhibit and then made a move on her. She shot him down and came and told me all about it. None of what you’re telling me is news.”

“But…”

“But what? How is this even on your radar at all?”

“I have sources.”

“Sources? Who are you, Barbara Walters?”

“Who?”

“Oh, god.” Jason runs a hand over his hair. “Whatever you think is going on between Sabrina and that guy is not. He was a jerk and made her feel uncomfortable, and she told me about it afterward. End of story.”

Sophie kicks a pebble and watches as it skitters over the asphalt. “Can we just go to school now?”

“Sure. Fine. But what you did back there was not okay, Sophie.”

“Ay, ay, captain,” she grumbles as she starts toward the car.

—–

Molly and Brent move to the kitchen, where she pours them each a cup of coffee. She hands one to Brent, and he leans back against the granite countertop of the island.

“I know I need to stay positive,” Molly says, “but I keep thinking… what if this is the best we ever get? What if Gabrielle never gets to live with us? What if we never get to see her wake up in the morning, or put her to bed at night?”

“Mol, stop,” Brent tells her. “You can’t think like that.”

“I can’t help it.” She stares down at her left hand, with its bare ring finger; they decided that it would be best not to show off her ring until they are ready to tell everyone about their engagement. “And I hate the idea that we’re going to get remarried without our daughter even being there.”

“I do, too. But being married before the trial happens should help our standing.”

“I know, I know.” Molly watches the soft spirals of steam float up from her own coffee. “Unless…”

Brent’s head juts forward. “What?”

“I have an idea,” she says.

—–

“I get that she’s feeling cooped-up and all,” Travis says, “but this is about her and TJ’s safety.”

“That’s the part that worries me,” Tim responds as he paces over Juanita’s oatmeal-colored living room carpet. “Sonja was on the run for months and months because she was so scared of Loretta. So to leave the safehouse now — even if she’s upset at me–“

“Why would she be upset at you?” Travis asks.

“Well…” Tim stops pacing and faces his son. Streaks of sunlight pour in through the window, spilling over Travis as he sits on the edge of the sofa. “We didn’t want to throw this at you while you and Rosie had so much on your plate, but…”

Travis stands, his body going rigid with nervousness. “What? Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Better than fine. It’s your mom — and me.”

“Huh? What does Mom have to do with this?”

“We’re kind of…” Tim cracks his knuckles as he finds his words. “Your mom and I are back together.”

“Whoa. What?! When did this happen?” Travis asks.

“It’s pretty recent. But I had to break the news to Sonja, because she was angling for herself and TJ to come live with me, and now I wonder…”

“You think Sonja split because you and Mom are back together?”

“I don’t know,” Tim says with a shrug. “To think that she would put TJ’s life in danger because of that… I knew she was reckless, but that would be a new level.”

“Yeah.”

Rosie hurries into the room, iPhone in hand, and both men turn their attention toward her.

“We have officers pulling all security camera footage from the area around the apartment building,” she reports. “They probably left the area on foot, so we might be able to get an idea of where they went or if they boarded a bus.”

“Thank you,” Tim says.

“Weren’t there supposed to be guards watching the apartment? How would they have missed Sonja and TJ leaving with a bunch of stuff?” Travis asks.

“I spoke with the officer who was posted overnight,” Rosie says. “Sonja was up before dawn and told him he could leave early because Tim would be there any minute.”

Tim furrows his brow. “I wasn’t supposed to be there until 8 a.m.”

“And Sonja knew that.” Rosie nods emphatically. “She was purposely creating a window so she could slip out without being caught.”

“I guess that at least means no one took them,” Travis says.

“I hope not,” Tim says, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “My son is out there somewhere. And we need to find him before Loretta Ragan does.”

END OF EPISODE 1187

Will Tim be able to track down Sonja and TJ?
What plan does Molly have in mind?
Will Sophie give Jason the name of her source?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

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