Previously…
– Over Diane’s objections, Samantha agreed to donate bone marrow to save TJ, who is suffering from aplastic anemia.
– Elly slipped and revealed to Spencer that she had encountered Travis at the Ragan home on the night Loretta died. Spencer immediately went to Brent with the information.
– The police conducted a search of the Jimenez home, where Travis and Rosie have been staying, and seemed to find something of interest, though they would not reveal what it was.

The shuffle of nurses’ sneakers, the low murmur of family members clutching paper cups of coffee, and the periodic chime of an elevator form a steady blanket of noise that fills the hospital waiting area. Tim Fisher sits hunched forward in a stiff plastic chair, his hands clasped together as though in prayer.

Jason Fisher stands beside him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hands jammed into the pockets of his lightweight jacket. His voice stays pitched low.

“The police still don’t have anything,” he explains. “Finding that skating dress and the note in the shed freaked us all out–“

“As it should,” Tim interjects with widened eyes.

Jason nods as he continues, “And now knowing someone got into the Chases’ attic, but we have no idea who, when, or how. Every time my phone buzzes, I’m hoping it’s some kind of update.”

“I hope you’re all being as careful as you can be. Taking precautions and everything.”

“We’re trying.” Jason smooths the sleeve of his Edge of Winter-branded windbreaker. “How are you holding up? Feeling okay about today?”

“Trying not to overthink too much,” Tim admits. “Claire‘s on duty today, so she’ll be able to keep us posted on how things are going. Sonja‘s honestly been great with TJ and keeping him calm.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you guys have been able to manage this together.”

“I hated that she took TJ and ran away, but I understand that she wanted to protect him,” Tim says. “She’s a good mom who was in a terrible position.”

“Let’s hope everything goes smoothly today and brings all of you some peace.”

Another ding sounds from the elevator bay, and within moments, Travis Fisher and Rosie Jimenez turn the corner, holding hands. Tim rises from his chair.

“Hey, guys,” he says, as the four exchange greetings and hugs.

“Have they gone back yet?” Travis asks.

“Samantha hasn’t checked in yet,” Tim tells them. “TJ is being prepped right now. Sonja is back with him. And your uncle’s been keeping me company.”

Jason grins and claps his hand down on Travis’s shoulder. “Speaking of, I should get to the arena. Tempest is going to be here with Sam all day, so I need to hold down the fort.”

“I appreciate you coming by,” Tim says, and the brothers embrace before Jason heads toward the elevators.

Travis’s eyes scan the waiting area intently.

“What about Spencer? Is he here yet?” Travis asks.

Rosie grasps Travis’s arm. “Not today, Travis. It’s not the time.”

Tim looks between them, confusion knitting his brow. “What about Spencer? What’s going on?”

—–

In the hospital’s parking garage, Tempest Banks shuts off the engine. Kendrick Lamara and SZA’s “Luther” continues to play through the car’s speakers, courtesy of Tempest’s phone. Samantha Fisher undoes her seatbelt and turns toward Tempest, whose fingers remained curled over the steering wheel.

“I guess this is it,” Samantha says.

Tempest forces a smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine. Ready.” Sam’s expression softens. “How about you? You seem anxious.”

“You can miss me with all those needles, I’ll tell you that,” Tempest says. “I don’t know how you’re so calm.”

“And I’m the one going under the knife,” Samantha comments with a laugh. “I promise, it’s going to be okay. It’s a routine procedure. And TJ needs me.”

For a beat, Tempest looks like she wants to argue, then swallows it down. Instead, she leans back against the seat, sighing. “I know. And I’m proud of you for stepping up.”

“But…?”

“But I wanna fast-forward to the part where you come out of that operating room good as ever.”

“That’s only a few hours away,” Samantha assures her. “And luckily for you, no one’s going to make you watch.”

“Good.” Tempest stretches over the center console and kisses her girlfriend. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?” Samantha asks with a giggle before opening her door. “Let’s go.”

Tempest picks up her phone and hesitates only a split-second before shutting off the music.

Brent Taylor sits behind his desk inside the headquarters of the King’s Bay Police Department. Atop his desk, photos of the ripped-up figure skating dress left for Sabrina Gage are scattered over an open manila folder, and the threatening note left with the dress sits in a plastic evidence sleeve. Brent leans back in his chair and rubs a hand over his jaw, then scans the printout for the fourth time.

Fingerprints. Nothing. No matches in the database.

“Dammit,” he mutters, tossing the report down onto the desk. Whoever left the dress has never been caught for anything, so they’ve either got a squeaky-clean record or have been smart enough to stay under the radar. Either way, it leaves him circling the same dead ends.

A knock at the open door pulls his attention up. Detective Harter steps in, her dark hair drawn back into a tight, efficient ponytail. She holds a fresh file folder.

“Commander? We’ve got something from the lab.”

Brent straightens immediately and sucks in a breath. “From Travis Fisher’s things?”

Harter nods and sets down the file in front of him. Brent flips it open, scanning the top sheet. His eyes move quickly, then stop cold.

Queasiness churns in the pit of his stomach. He thinks of Travis: the kid he watched grow up, who could’ve even been his stepson at one point. A man whom Gabrielle thinks of as another father. He has been hoping this was all one big misunderstanding, but the evidence in front of him doesn’t lie.

The silence stretches.

Then Harter clears her throat. “You know what this means.”

The weight of inevitability presses down on Brent as he closes the folder. “Yeah,” he says grimly. “I do.”

—–

Jason steps off the elevator into the busy hospital lobby. He’s already reaching for his phone when he spots Natalie Bishop come through the sliding glass doors at the entry. Her high heels click against the polished floor.

They both hesitate for a half-second, long enough to acknowledge the weighty history between them, before Natalie straightens her shoulders. “Jason. Hey.”

“Natalie.” His tone is polite but clipped. “Here for Samantha?”

“She’s my niece,” Natalie says with a shrug. “And Sonja could use the support, too.”

“You and Sonja know each other?”

“Let’s just say we’ve trauma-bonded over being terrorized by my thankfully departed mother-in-law.“

“Ah.” Jason’s eyes flicker, as if considering whether to leave it there. Instead, he asks softly, “How’s Peter doing?”

Natalie softens, almost despite herself. “He’s good. Growing like a weed. He actually was asking me about playing hockey when we went to the rink to see Bree last week.”

“Really? Wow.” Jason’s hand tightens around his phone. A cyclone of feelings swirls within Jason, a longing for a past life that wasn’t real and a future that can never be. “That’s great. You know those Learn to Skate classes are always open.”

“That’s what I told him.” She folds her arms. “You can see him anytime, you know. He is your…”

“Great-nephew. Which is a terrifying phrase to say.” He clears his throat and nods his head in the direction of the entry. “Speaking of the rink, I should get going. I have meetings.”

“Good luck. Nice seeing you, Jason.”

Lips held together in a thin line, he nods and moves toward the sliding doors. Natalie’s gaze lingers on him a moment longer than she intends it to, and then she heads to the ground-floor café.

—–

Upstairs in the waiting area, Tim frowns at his son. “Spencer had to be in the office today. Why?”

Jaw set, Travis shakes his head. “Figures. He’s always got some excuse…”

“Travis.” Rosie’s voice is low but firm, a quiet warning.

But Travis pushes past it, his tone sharpening. “You want to know what’s going on? He sold me out and went running to Brent with completely out-of-context info. Of course he twisted it to make me look guilty.”

Tim blinks, caught off-guard. “Guilty of what? What are you talking about?”

Rosie slides her hand under her husband’s arm, a steadying gesture. “It’s complicated. And now really isn’t the time.”

Travis exhales hard through his nose, like steam escaping a valve. Before Tim can press, an elevator dings, and Samantha steps out with Tempest by her side. Both look tense but composed. Tim rises immediately, his face softening as his focus shifts to his daughter.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” he says, his voice raw with emotion as he reaches out to hug Samantha.

“It’s only right,” she replies as she draws strength from her father’s embrace.

“Your mom just texted me,” Tim adds. “She’s about 10 minutes away.”

As Samantha and Tempest talk with Tim, Rosie takes advantage of the moment and pulls Travis toward the nurses’ station.

“Not here. Not now,” she murmurs firmly, her eyes drilling into his. “Don’t make this worse.”

He nods stiffly, but the tension in his shoulders doesn’t relent.

END OF EPISODE 1269

What have Brent and the police discovered?
Should Travis take action against Spencer?
Will Samantha’s donation to TJ be a success?
Discuss all this and more in the comments below!

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