Previously…
– Rosie chose not to visit Gabrielle when Travis did, but later expressed some amount of regret about that decision to her mother.
– Loretta got into a verbal altercation with Molly and Paula at a high-end salon and was asked to leave.
– Sabrina’s apartment was engulfed in a fire that firefighters deemed to have been set intentionally.

“Let me get that for you,” Jason Fisher says as he steps in front of Sabrina Gage and lifts the black garbage bag from the trunk of his own Volvo SUV.

The dark-haired woman looks over at him, a clearly disoriented expression on her face even as she attempts to override it with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

They proceed up the driveway in front of Jason’s large, brick-fronted home, having just come from Sabrina’s apartment, which they were shocked to see on fire after returning home from dinner. Jason does his best to conceal his concern from Sabrina, but the words of one of the firefighters at the scene continue to ring through his mind:

“The fire looks like it originated at your apartment’s front door. We have reason to believe that someone set this fire intentionally.”

He already has some strong thoughts about how — and with whom — the blaze might have originated, but he doesn’t want to foist them upon Sabrina when she is so clearly in survival mode. They were finally allowed back into the apartment to get some of her things, although her luggage was destroyed and so were many of her clothes, hence the garbage bag posing as a suitcase.

The late summer air is still pleasantly warm, despite the sun sinking swiftly behind the horizon, as Jason lets them into the house. He places the garbage bag on the hardwood floor of the foyer.

“Maybe a shower would help you calm down,” he comments as Sabrina removes her shoes and places them on the rack beside the door.

“Maybe. Yeah.” She brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around her, enveloping her in an embrace. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

She rests her head against his shoulder. “I can’t believe it. So many of my things… photography equipment, clothes, photos, you know…”

“Once it’s fully cleaned out, you might be able to salvage more,” he offers. “And the equipment that was in the trunk of your car is safe.”

After letting out a burdened sigh, she says, “I know. I’m trying to keep that in perspective. It’s just… it’s a lot to get my head around.”

“You don’t have to do anything tonight but rest. We can take stock of what needs to be replaced in the morning. For the time being, a shower and some sleep might go a long way.”

She looks up at him. “Thank you for doing all this, Jason.”

“You can stay as long as you need to,” he tells her.

“What? Stay here?!” a voice asks, its intensity ripping through the air. Both Jason and Sabrina turn, nearly jumping apart in the process, to see Sophie Fisher standing in the open doorway with a scowl on her face.

Brent Taylor turns the corner into the small, bare-bones break room inside the King’s Bay Police Department. As soon as he does, he stops short, catching his body against the doorframe to kill his momentum. He stands there, not sure what to do, as he watches Rosie Jimenez at the counter, pouring some of the too-thick coffee from the orange-handled pot into a paper cup. Scurrying away seems cowardly, but he also thinks Rosie might appreciate that more than any kind of interaction.

But he takes an instant too long contemplating his next move, because Rosie half-turns toward the door and spots him. Tension spreads through the air like a toxic gas, threatening to suffocate them both.

“Jimenez. Hi,” Brent says from his post in the doorway.

Her eyes flicker. She wears her navy KBPD uniform, with her dark hair pulled back into a simple, no-nonsense ponytail.

“Hi,” she says coolly.

“You sure you wanna drink that?” he asks, desperate to dissolve the aggressive sense of discomfort in the air.

She reacts with surprise, glancing down at the sludgy coffee.

“I just know how not-good the coffee in here tends to be,” Brent says. But he feels the moment turning, slipping away, and he steps out of the doorway so that she can pass.

But she doesn’t make a move. Instead, she stands in the break room and takes a cautious sip of the coffee.

“It’s fine,” she says. “And you don’t need to make small talk.”

“I thought we could at least try to be civil coworkers.”

Her only response is to gaze down at the scuffed floor. Brent glances around the break room, as if he might find something that could save this encounter. All he sees is mess: a collection of powdered coffee creamers spread over one section of the counter; a wadded-up paper towel fallen on the floor by the trash can.

“You want to be civil?” Rosie asks in a tone so sharp that it makes the hairs on Brent’s arm stand on end. “You and Molly are the ones who were steering that ship, and it went right past civil a long, long time ago.”

—–

Loretta Ragan strides into the kitchen of her son‘s home and places her leather Coach purse down on the vast white island.

“There you are,” she says to her daughter-in-law, who is stationed at the other end of the expansive marble island, sorting the mail.

Natalie Bishop sucks in a deep breath before wrangling the strength to look up. “Yes?”

“I need you to do something for me,” Loretta says.

“What now?” Natalie asks with a roll of her eyes. “Run over some puppies? Drive a bus full of nuns off a cliff?”

Loretta sneers at her. “A true comedienne, I see. I’d suggest you be a little kinder to someone who has the power to destroy your entire life with the snap of her fingers.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Natalie places the mail down on the island. “What is it?”

“I’m coming to you woman-to-woman, Natalie. I need some help.”

The older woman’s tone catches Natalie off-guard, and for half an instant, she wonders if her mother-in-law might be experiencing some sort of health crisis or personal emergency. But she has trouble imagining Loretta being vulnerable at all, so she braces for whatever insane demand is about to emerge.

“Fine. What is it?”

“I recall you hiring some people you called a ‘glam squad’ when you had some kind of event a few months ago,” Loretta continues. “Would you be able to book them again?”

“You… want me to book hair and make-up for you?”

“Well, hair, in particular. I’ve tried to visit the only two decent salons in this sad little town, but one told me they have no appointments for months, and the other asked me to leave!”

“It’s almost like they read the news or something,” Natalie mutters.

“It was that awful Molly’s fault. Her and that banal mother of hers. As if they haven’t done enough to me.”

“Didn’t you steal her baby and let her think she was dead?”

“Molly drove my son insane, and Paula shot him dead!”

“Fine. Okay,” Natalie says, holding up both of her palms as a sort of ceasefire. “So you need a hair appointment?”

“I’d like for those people to come to the house for a cut and color. You might be a disaster of a human being, but your hair generally looks lovely.”

“Thanks?”

“Let me know when they’re available before you confirm,” Loretta says, picking up her purse from the island. “And you can go ahead and give them your credit card number. It’s the least you can do, really.”

Before Natalie can even finds the words to sputter a response, Loretta has breezed out of the kitchen. Natalie plants her hands on the island and starts down at the marbled white surface, wondering if she will ever have that woman out of her home.

—–

Jason and Sabrina take a step back from one another as his teenage daughter stares them down.

“Soph. Hey,” Jason says clumsily. “How was the movie? How are Bree and Marcus?”

“It was fine. They’re fine.” The raven-haired teen folds her arms across her chest. “What do you mean, she’s staying here?”

“I can explain.” Jason tells her, as he squares his shoulders toward Sophie. Sabrina sinks behind him. “Something happened tonight.”

Sophie’s eyes flare. “You asked her to move in??”

“No. I offered to let Sabrina stay here. Her apartment caught fire tonight. She has nowhere to go.”

“Oh.” Sophie’s face goes blank as she takes this in. “What happened?”

“We don’t know,” he says.

“I’m going to stay in the guest room,” Sabrina offers. “I think that would be less awkward for everyone. And we’re sorry for springing this on you.”

“It’s okay,” Sophie says quietly, though she still appears disoriented by the news. She points to the garbage bag. “What’s that?”

“Those are my things,” Sabrina explains. “Everything I was able to take.”

“You lost everything but that?” Sophie asks.

“She’ll be able to go back tomorrow and see if anything else can be salvaged,” Jason says. “But yeah. That’s all we were able to take.”

“Wow.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here, Sophie?” Sabrina inquires. “I can book a hotel room–“

“No, it’s fine,” Sophie cuts her off. “Don’t worry about it.” Without another word, she breaks for the stairs and hurries up them. A moment later, they hear her bedroom door close softly.

“At least she didn’t slam it,” Jason comments.

“I really don’t want to make Sophie uncomfortable,” Sabrina says.

“She’ll be okay. Thanks for offering to stay in the guest room. I know that might feel weird to us, but…”

“It’s not a big deal,” Sabrina replies with a brave smile. “I’m grateful to have anywhere to stay at all.”

“And I’m grateful you’re okay,” he says before pulling her into another hug. “Tonight could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina agrees as she once again rests her head against him.

—–

Brent sees the intensity in Rosie’s gaze and realizes that he needs to be careful not to match her energy — not that he has hostile feelings toward her at all.

“Gabrielle really appreciated seeing Travis when he came over,” he offers. “If you ever want to…”

“Gee, thanks. How generous.”

“Rosie, all I meant was–“

“All you meant was that you want to soothe your guilty conscience and have us be one big, happy family.”

“I didn’t say that.” Realizing this is a losing battle, he steps aside, standing wide of the door so that she can pass. He casts his eye down the hallway and is relieved to see that no one is within earshot.

“Whatever,” she mutters as she moves past him. But instead of continuing on her way, she spins on her heel and turns back toward him. “You know what? I don’t need this.”

“I don’t want an argument, either.”

“No. This.” Coffee still in hand, she gestures broadly at the hallway and the space around them. “I don’t need to come to work and be reminded of what you and Molly have done. I quit.”

“Rosie, you don’t need to–“

“Yes, I do.” She takes a big slug from the coffee cup. “I’ve been coming to work for months and months, avoiding the station as much as I could, imagining things I would say to you if we were face-to-face…”

“You are excellent at your job,” he says.

“And I can be excellent at it somewhere else. Consider this my notice.”

She stomps off down the hallway. Brent wants to call out to her, talk to her so that she changes her mind, but he also knows that the last thing she needs right now is more of him talking at her. So he remains by the break room, wondering if there is anything he could possibly do to fix this situation.

END OF EPISODE 1232

Will Rosie regret her rash decision?
Can Sabrina and Sophie coexist in peace?
Will Natalie ever be free of Loretta?
Talk about it all in the comments below!