Previously…
– Spencer told Natalie that he wants a divorce.
– Travis announced to his family that he plans to accept a plea deal that could let him out of prison in 10-15 years.
– Following Travis’s news, Rosie was distraught. Then she recalled the night that TJ seemingly took Travis’s keys and realized that Sonja had actually taken them to plant the vial of poison in Travis’s gym bag!

The noise of it all — the family gathering in the other room, the aches of her pregnant body, the dreadful knowledge that Travis is currently on his way to sign a plea deal — fades into a faint static hum for Rosie Jimenez as the horrifying truth crystallizes before her, right here in the kitchen of Tim and Claire‘s house.

“It was you,” she says to Sonja Kahele, who stands mere feet away at the counter, while TJ sits at the kitchen table, awaiting his food.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sonja replies, though her eyes suggest otherwise.

“Yes, you do. TJ didn’t randomly pick up Travis’s keys. You did — so you could put that–” Rosie stops short of saying the word poison as she casts a tentative glance at TJ.

“Stop,” Sonja says curtly, with a sharp edge that Rosie has not seen before, one that makes her suspect that the nurse could be capable of taking a life. Quickly Sonja removes the last few offending cherries from TJ’s fruit dish, passes it to him at the table, and slides open the glass door.

“Come here,” she tells Rosie, gesturing with her head toward the back patio.

Rosie makes the calculation in a split-second with the trained and practiced brain of a law enforcement official. Her cell phone is safely inside the front pocket of her jeans. Her Apple Watch is on her wrist. There are windows in the living room, where everyone else is gathered, that offer a view of the backyard, albeit around a corner from the patio itself. She is sure that she could get within view of them if needed, so as she joins Sonja outdoors, she positions herself closest to that corner.

“You have this all wrong,” Sonja says, once again speaking with her usual softness.

“I don’t think I do, Sonja.”

“No, you do. And I can explain everything.”

—–

The black Range Rover pulls right up to Tim and Claire’s house, only to find both spots in the driveway, as well as most of the nearby street spaces, occupied. It finally parks curbside, several houses down, and the driver’s door swings open.

Natalie Bishop‘s stilettos hit the asphalt, and she strides quickly toward the house, up the driveway, and to the front door. Spencer‘s demand for a divorce rings in her head and surges through her veins. She knows that she shouldn’t be surprised, exactly, but she is. And offended. It isn’t fair or right for him to spring this on her like this. With her Birkin bag hanging from her forearm, she uses a meticulously manicured nail to ring the doorbell.

When the door opens, the energy of a full house comes spilling out. Natalie’s niece stands in the doorway, a perplexed look upon her face.

“Aunt Natalie,” Samantha Fisher says. “Did you — did you hear?”

Natalie frowns at her. “Apparently not. Looks like my invitation got lost in the mail.” She gazes past Samantha, toward the living room, where many Fishers are gathered. “Is Sonja home?”

“I think she’s in the kitchen.”

“Perfect.” Natalie moves past her niece and skirts the living room, instead going down the short hallway to enter the kitchen from the other side.

“Hey,” she says when she finds TJ alone in the kitchen, pulling apart a string cheese. “Is your mom…?”

“She’s in the backyard,” the little boy reports as he munches happily on the cheese.

“Thanks, TJ,” Natalie says as sweetly as she can, though on the inside, she is blazing with desperation to talk with her friend.

—–

The District Attorney’s office — the whole building, really — feels cold and antiseptic to Travis Fisher, in spite of the heavy, cherry-stained furnishings and gold-framed landscapes of King’s Bay.

Audrey Tam stands from her chair and rounds the desk as Conrad Halston leads Travis into the office.

“I trust you’re onboard with your client’s plan?” Tam asks.

Conrad runs a hand over his graying hair. “I’ve advised Mr. Fisher of his options and of my opinion on the matter. He’s confirmed that he wants to proceed.”

“Excellent,” the D.A. says, with the faintest hint of a smirk.

“I’d still like to review the text of the deal before he signs,” Conrad says.

“Good idea,” Travis agrees uneasily. He takes a seat in a leather side chair to wait, his fingers gripping the chair’s carved wooden arms anxiously as Conrad begins to review the document.

—–

In the living room, Claire goes over to Tim, who is sitting on the edge of the sectional sofa with his head in his hands. Around them, the others continue to chatter as they attempt to process Travis’s news.

“It doesn’t seem real, does it?” Claire asks compassionately.

Tim looks up at her with gratitude. “Not even close.”

She takes a seat beside him.

“I can’t fathom our son spending ten or even fifteen years in prison,” Tim says.

“Me neither. I keep thinking about this time when he was in second grade,” Claire says. “Another kid made a remark to him about you…”

“Being dead?” Tim finishes for her.

She nods solemnly. “I don’t think I ever told you this story.”

“It’s so weird that there are entire parts of my kids’ childhoods that I don’t know about.”

“I know.” She places a comforting hand on his knee. “Anyway, Travis got upset — rightfully so — and punched the kid. And they gave him detention.”

“But nothing for the other kid?”

“No! So I marched into the school and gave the principal hell. Of course Travis shouldn’t have been punching anyone, but he was a little kid being taunted about the loss of a parent. I let them have it.”

“And?” Tim asks. “What happened?”

“He never had to serve the detention,” Claire says proudly.

Tim grins. “Way to go.”

“I keep thinking that there must be some way I can do that for him now,” she says, notes of sadness creeping back into her voice. “But I can’t. That breaks my heart.”

“Me, too.” Tim sighs. “I think about all the time I missed with Travis, Samantha, Spencer, and even TJ, and how painful that is, and then I think about Travis having to do the same with his own child…” He trails off, overwhelmed.

Claire rubs his knee softly. “We’ll have to step up and be the best grandparents we can possibly be. Keep Travis as present for this kid as we can.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, though it is hardly a comforting thought.

—–

In the backyard, Rosie plants her hands on her hips and waits for Sonja’s explanation. Even though every siren in her brain is ringing, yelling at her to pepper Sonja with questions in order to get this over with and clear Travis, she knows that whatever Sonja says now will be the most revealing of all.

Give her the rope to hang herself, Rosie thinks as her own impatience threatens to bubble over.

“You’re… you’re trying to force together puzzle pieces that don’t fit,” Sonja says.

Rosie stares back at her. “Mm-hmm.”

“I wasn’t even in King’s Bay when Loretta was poisoned,” Sonja continues. “I was on the run with TJ.”

“Because you were so scared of Loretta,” Rosie retorts. “Sounds like a motive to me.”

Sonja blinks rapidly several times. “Your timeline doesn’t make any sense.”

Rosie simply shrugs.

“I know you’re desperate,” Sonja says. “You want to save Travis. What you’ve been doing for him is heroic. But you’re way off the mark here.”

“If you say so,” Rosie tells her, and she begins to move back toward the house. If Sonja isn’t going to give her anything, so be it; she has given her enough ideas about where to look, beginning with the possibility that Sonja secretly snuck back into town to poison Loretta.

Before she makes it to the sliding door, however, it opens from the inside, and Natalie steps out.

“I needed to talk to you,” Natalie says, just as she clocks Rosie’s presence, too. “But it looks like I’m interrupting something.”

“I was actually just headed inside,” Rosie says.

Natalie looks back toward the house and then back at the two women. “What the hell is going on? Does this have something to do with the trial being postponed?”

Sonja widens her eyes and nods her head toward the kitchen, indicating TJ. Natalie takes the hint and closes the door.

“Travis decided to take a plea,” Sonja explains.

Natalie’s eyes flare wide. “He what?!”

“I’m sure Spencer will be thrilled,” Rosie says.

“That’s actually why I needed to see you,” Natalie tells Sonja.

“What happened? Why?” Sonja asks.

“He wants a divorce,” Natalie says, letting despondency creep into her voice. “He seems dead-set on it.”

“Oh god. I’m sorry.” Sonja rushes to her friend and embraces her.

Meanwhile, Rosie removes her phone from her pocket and scrolls to a contact.

“What are you doing?” Sonja asks sharply.

“Calling my husband,” Rosie says as she lifts the phone to her ear, “and telling him not to sign that deal.”

—–

“Okay, this looks to be exactly what you described,” Conrad announces as he finishes reviewing the plea bargain.

“Then we can proceed with signatures and get in front of the judge before the end of the day,” Audrey says.

Travis manages something that is not quite a smile — that feels all wrong for this grim occasion — but at least a twitch of the lips confirming that this is what he asked for.

The D.A. passes Travis a ballpoint pen and waits for Conrad to finish scanning the document so that he can hand it to his client.

As he waits, Travis feels his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket. He expects that it will be a spam call or something that will not matter for someone about to spend a decade in prison, but then he sees the name on the display:

Rosie

His finger goes to the slider to answer the call, but then he hesitates. What is she going to say? That he shouldn’t sign the deal? That he should wait?

Part of him desperately wants to be convinced of that — and that is precisely why he sends the call to voicemail instead. He cannot let himself be talked out of this now.

—–

“Dammit,” Rosie mutters when Travis’s voicemail recording begins. She cuts it off mid-statement, ending the call.

“He didn’t answer?” Sonja asks.

Rosie shakes her head but maintains the focus on her phone.

“What is even going on here?” Natalie interjects.

“Rosie is so desperate to help Travis that she’s trying to — to pin Loretta’s murder on me,” Sonja says with a roll of the eyes. “It’s crazy.”

Natalie gasps. “You?!”

“Wait, that’s it,” Rosie says, looking up. “I had no idea the two of you were such good friends. But maybe…” Her eyes dart back and forth between Natalie and Sonja. “Maybe that’s how you pulled it off. Together.”

“That’s insane,” Sonja says.

Natalie’s mind races. If Rosie runs with this theory — whether or not it really is crazy — then the police will inevitably dig into the connection between Sonja and Loretta. And then they might find out that it was really Natalie, not Loretta, who was paying Sonja to keep Spencer’s memories from returning all those years ago. And if that happens… the entire divorce settlement — not to mention Natalie’s custody of Peter — could vanish into thin air.

“I don’t have all the pieces put together yet, but I know I’m onto something,” Rosie says. “I’m calling Conrad.”

“No!” Sonja shouts.

Rosie begins to place the call. Natalie watches in horror, imagining how this might play out.

“Wait!” Natalie cries, lunging forward and snatching the phone from Rosie’s hand.

“Give me my phone, Natalie,” Rosie says.

“Not until I explain,” Natalie says, breathing hard. “I think I know what really happened to Loretta.”

END OF EPISODE 1301

What theory is Natalie going to throw out now?
Will Natalie’s tactics save her and Sonja?
Is it too late to make a difference for Travis?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

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