Previously…
– Rosie was furious when she found her brother, Sebastian, hanging out with Elly. The confrontation between the two women resulted in Rosie slapping Elly.
– Travis told Molly that he would ask Rosie if she’d be willing to spend time with Gabrielle in order to ease the child’s transition into her new home.
– Jason traveled to Iowa with Sabrina to meet her family and see where she grew up.
Elly Vanderbilt strides into the bustling police station, her fiery mane bouncing with each determined step. The sharp click of her heels commands attention as she approaches the front desk, eyes flashing with indignation.
Her voice cuts through the clamor of the station. “Is Commander Taylor in? I’m his niece.”
The uniformed officer behind the desk gestures towards the hallway, and Elly doesn’t waste a moment. She moves toward the somewhat familiar path with purpose, her posture rigid with resolve as she reaches the open door to her uncle’s office.
Brent Taylor, his hair graying at the temples, looks up from his desk at the sight of her. His expression shifts from surprise to concern as he takes in her flushed cheeks and clenched fists.
“Elly, what’s wrong?” he asks, sitting back in the worn leather office chair.
“Uncle Brent, I need you to arrest someone,” she says, her voice trembling with fury. “For assault.”
“What?” Brent rises from his chair. “Someone assaulted you?”
“Yesterday,” Elly tells him. “It was Rosie. And she needs to be stopped.”
—–
Molly Taylor sits cross-legged on the plush rug of her living room, surrounded by an array of sketches, fabric swatches, and design files spread out before her. With her laptop open, she leans in, focusing intently on the latest collection for Objection Designs. She studies the intricate details of a new dress design, contemplating the uncommon choice of neckline, but pauses to smile at the sense of fulfillment she gets from returning to work after all her time away. She is still catching up, but knowing that she is reclaiming her role and will have Tori by her side as her assistant fills her with joy.
Her concentration is broken when a piercing cry breaks the tranquil silence. Her heart skips a beat, recognizing the unmistakable sound of Gabrielle stirring from her nap through the monitor that Molly has placed on the coffee table.
With a sigh, Molly sets aside her work, her mind shifting from fashion to motherhood in an instant. She rises from the floor, her movements swift yet graceful, and makes her way to Gabrielle’s room. The little girl’s cries only grow louder as Molly draws nearer and then opens the door.
“Honey,” she says as she enters. Her voice does nothing to quiet Gabrielle.
“It’s only been a few minutes,” Molly tells her, and although she knows that she is supposed to let Gabrielle cry herself to sleep, the sheer urgency of her wails has been too upsetting to bear. Gabrielle lies in her small twin bed, her cheeks flushed with frustration. Molly lowers herself to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she says. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“I want Mommy!” Gabrielle yells, and Molly’s breath catches at the reminder that it is Rosie, not her, whom the child still thinks of as her mother. Nevertheless, she picks Gabrielle up, and the child continues to cry and wheeze as she rests her head against Molly’s shoulder.
Travis, come on. I need you and Rosie to come help us out, Molly thinks, though she is quite aware that her phone has yet to buzz with any alerts from her nephew about whether he and his wife are willing to come help with Gabrielle’s transition.
—–
The dining room exudes a familiar warmth, but Jason Fisher can’t shake the slight edge of nerves as he shifts in his chair. Sabrina Gage‘s childhood home in Iowa feels so simple and so normal that he fears he is intruding by bringing all the drama and baggage of his life here. The couple sits at the dining room table, finishing a hearty lunch as lace curtains filter the soft afternoon light.
Barb Gage, Sabrina’s mother, stands and begins to move around the table with efficiency, collecting dishes with a smile.
“Let me help you with those,” Jason offers.
“Please. You’re a guest,” Barb rebukes him. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I insist,” he says, pushing out his chair and standing.
George Gage, a larger man in his 60s wearing a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, leans back in his chair. “Don’t bother arguing with my wife, Jason. You’ll never win. I’ve been trying for over 30 years.”
“My dad’s right,” Sabrina says from beside Jason. The foursome shares in a laugh, and Jason feels himself relaxing a little more.
“So, Jason,” Barb begins, her voice friendly, “Sabrina told us that you own an ice skating arena. That must be quite the responsibility.”
Jason straightens up, feeling a surge of pride. “Yeah, it’s been a labor of love,” he replies, trying to convey his passion for the project. “I grew up skating there, and it wasn’t in the best of shape… and I found myself in a position to make a bid…” He begins to trail off, not wanting to talk about money – especially not the money that he inherited from Shannon Parish, which allowed him to purchase the arena in the first place.
Sabrina reaches out, her hand finding Jason’s beneath the table, a silent reassurance. He squeezes her hand gratefully, drawing strength from her presence.
George nods, a flicker of admiration crossing his face. “Owning a business takes dedication,” he says, his voice gruff but approving.
Barb’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. “We’ll have to come visit sometime so that we can see it,” she suggests. “We used to go skating out on the ponds when I was little, but it’s been years and years.”
“You and Dad getting on a plane? I’ll believe it when I see it,” Sabrina says, and again, all four of them laugh. As they do, Sabrina catches Jason’s eyes, and he can see her silent message clearly: You’re doing great. This is going well.
—–
Natalie Bishop moves around the living room with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The scant amount of sunlight on display on this uneasy Northwest day filters through the windows, casting shadows across the floor. Despite the burgeoning warmth of the day, there’s a chill in the air – a lingering reminder of recent tensions, she can’t help but think.
The doorbell rings, and Natalie’s heart skips a beat. She knows it’s Bree and Marcus, but her excitement is tinged with a hint of nervousness. Between Bree heading to college and Loretta Ragan planting herself in this house, things have felt so uncertain. But with Loretta behind bars, Natalie is optimistic that Bree’s request to come by is a positive sign.
As Natalie answers the doorbell, she’s greeted by Bree’s cautious smile and Marcus’s easygoing demeanor. She can’t help but feel a surge of relief that her instincts were right: Loretta’s recent imprisonment has lifted a weight from their shoulders.
“Mom,” Bree says, her voice cautious but hopeful. “We just need to pick up our stuff for the trip.”
Natalie embraces her daughter tightly, savoring the moment. “I’m so glad you’re here, sweetie,” she says, her voice tinged with emotion. “It’s been too long.”
Bree returns the hug, her grip firm but fleeting. “Yeah, it has,” she murmurs, her gaze flickering towards the house.
Marcus clears his throat, breaking the tension with a grin. “Ready to load up the car?” he asks, ever the peacemaker.
Natalie nods, eager to change the subject. “Of course,” she says, leading them into the house. “Are you excited for Cancun?”
“Real excited,” Marcus offers with a cheerful smile.
“Be careful. Please,” Natalie tells them. “Not to be a killjoy, but spring break can be… well… a lot can go wrong.”
“You’re listening to too many true crime podcasts,” Bree says. However, before a frown can even properly land on Natalie’s face, the blonde college student adds, “But we know you’re just worried. We’ll be careful.”
“How’s training been?” Natalie asks as they all move inside the house. “I got that e-mail about Jason traveling.”
“It’s only for a few days,” Bree says. Natalie watches the young woman and her boyfriend walk to the top of the stairs; it strikes her what adults they are. “Between his trip and us going away, it’s good time for a break.”
Natalie moves halfway up the stairs as she says, “You deserve some time to rest and unwind.”
As she watches the college students pick up the items that she gathered for them, Natalie feels her Apple Watch vibrate. Reflexively, she lifts her wrist to see whatever spam message she’ll need to delete later – then freezes as the message from her husband’s text lands on her.
“Shit,” she says aloud.
“Mom,” Bree says, turning abruptly. “What’s wrong?”
Natalie draws a deep breath as she contemplates how much to tell her daughter and Marcus.
—–
Sabrina leads Jason down the quaint main street of her hometown. They approach a charming little ice cream shop, its colorful sign inviting them in for a sweet treat; though its exterior paint is faded, the entire enterprise radiates with enticing nostalgia.
“Is this the spot?” Jason asks.
She smiles. “I used to walk down here with my allowance every… well, more often than my parents would’ve liked.”
They pause on the sidewalk, facing one another.
“Your parents are really nice people,” he says. “I felt so nervous that they’d think I was– I don’t know–”
Sabrina cocks her head. “What?”
“Talking about owning a whole ice arena makes me sound pretentious. I don’t know. Plus the way I got the money to buy it in the first place… and what happened to Courtney… and all the other things they could’ve seen in the news about my family.”
“They’re not judging you for any of that,” she says softly. “Besides, we’re not exactly drama-free folks, either.” Again he understands exactly what she is implying all thanks to the twinkle in her eye. Sabrina herself endured a years-long coma – in addition to the identity theft that Shannon Parish committed while Sabrina lie motionless in a hospital bed.
But before they can reach the door, a blondish woman storms toward them, her expression twisted with anger. She looks to be around Sabrina’s age, her features hardened with resentment.
“Sabrina Gage!” she spits out the name like a curse, stopping them dead in their tracks.
Sabrina’s smile falters, a flicker of unease crossing her face as she faces the woman. “Carrie,” she replies, her voice tight with tension.
Jason watches the exchange, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He can sense the history between them, though he’s not sure what it entails.
Carrie’s eyes narrow, her voice dripping with venom. “What are you doing here? I thought you left.”
Sabrina squares her shoulders, her jaw set in determination. “I came back for a visit. To see my parents. That’s all.”
But Carrie isn’t appeased. “You left and never looked back,” she accuses, her voice rising. “You think you can just waltz back in here like nothing happened?”
Jason shifts uncomfortably, feeling like an intruder in this tense moment.
—–
Brent’s brow furrows in disbelief.
“Rosie,” he repeats slowly. “Rosie assaulted you?”
“She slapped me,” Elly says with fury.
“Why?”
“Why do you think? She’s pissed at me for putting Jesse on the stand and leading him down that line of questioning – which was all truthful, by the way!”
Brent does his best to flatten his tone. “So she came up to you out of nowhere and slapped you.”
“It was at Cassie’s,” Elly replies. “There are witnesses.”
“Okay.” Brent steps out from behind his desk. “Elly, I can’t just…”
“What, punish one of your officers for assaulting a civilian out of nowhere? Treat her like any other person who did what she did.”
Brent casts a wary glance toward the open door. “You know it’s not that easy. Rosie has been through a nightmare.”
“I know that.” Elly lets out a huff. “I just… she shouldn’t have…”
“She shouldn’t have,” Brent agrees. “But this is thorny, El. Rosie just lost her child in a custody battle – with my wife and me. You’re my niece. I can talk to her, but disciplining her for something that happened off-duty…”
Elly’s features briefly droop in response, but then perk up again, fueled by pure resolve. “I’m sick of being treated like a monster for doing my job. I helped you and Molly get Gabrielle back. Now this woman is walking around town smacking me in the face.”
“Which she shouldn’t have done,” Brent says. “I’m in agreement with you. But I can’t place her under arrest, Elly. Not for a slap, and definitely not now.”
A tense silence hangs between them for several seconds.
“Fine,” Elly says gruffly. “But if she lays a hand on me again…”
“Then you’ll file a police report when it happens and not put me in the middle,” Brent tells her. “I love you, El. But I can’t take out family or personal issues on anyone, especially not my staff.”
When she doesn’t respond, Brent opens his arms and beckons her toward him. She hesitates, then comes forward so that he can hug her.
“I’m sorry you got hit,” he says. “Try and show Rosie some compassion, okay? We did what we had to do, but she and Travis are devastated.”
“I know,” Elly says, exhaling against him as she does her best to let go of her frustrations.
—–
Natalie stands frozen on the staircase, unable to believe what she is seeing on her phone.
“Mom,” Bree repeats, with increased urgency. “Did something happen?”
Although her first instinct is to lie, Natalie is too weakened by the news that Spencer just texted her to concoct a story. Bree and Marcus watch her intently as she forms her words.
“It’s her,” she says through a heavy breath. “She’s… she’s back.”
—–
Once she finally gets Gabrielle to settle down, Molly returns to the living room, where her work remains scattered over the floor. Although it all felt so promising a short while ago, now it simply looks like a mess to her.
“What am I going to do?” she murmurs to herself. The question is about far more than Objection Designs.
She is about to go to the kitchen to fix herself a calming cup of tea when the doorbell rings. She goes to the entry, unlocks the door, and pulls it open without thinking.
Then her blood runs cold.
“Hello, Molly,” Loretta Ragan coos from her post on the porch. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
END OF EPISODE 1219
What is Loretta doing out of prison?
Should Elly press charges against Rosie?
Why is Carrie so angry at Sabrina?
Talk about it all in the comments below!
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