Previously…
– Travis signed a plea deal to spend fifteen years in prison for Loretta Ragan’s murder.
– Rosie realized that Sonja had planted the vial of poison in Travis’s gym bag and confronted her.
– Natalie attempted to divert Rosie’s accusations by claiming Spencer was the true murderer.
– Travis went to say goodbye to Gabrielle, and Brent received a shocking text from Rosie.

The air in Tim Fisher‘s backyard is tight and tense. Natalie Bishop, Sonja Kahele, and Samantha Fisher stand by uncertainly, watching as Rosie Jimenez whispers some directions to Tim and then hands him his phone. Tim’s face scrunches with confusion, even as his thumbs begin typing.

“What is this all about?” Natalie demands. “I already told you, you should be looking at Spencer.”

Rosie shoots her a warning glare. “Why? Because you want to help your friend? Or you want to, what, get one over on Spencer?”

“This is making my head hurt,” Samantha mutters from the sidelines.

“You’re putting together pieces that don’t fit, just to create the picture you want to see,” Sonja says. “Rosie, I understand how badly you want to save Travis. It breaks all of our hearts to see this happening to the two of you…” She gestures toward Rosie’s pregnant belly. “…the three of you. But fabricating a case against me is not the solution.”

“I don’t think I’m fabricating anything,” Rosie counters. She leans over to check Tim’s progress. “Is that it?”

“Yeah…” He hands her the phone. “I don’t understand what you’re looking for in there.”

“I’m not exactly sure, either,” Rosie admits, “but I’ll know it when I see it.” She begins scrolling.

“This is ridiculous,” Natalie says. “What are you even looking at?”

Tim glances uneasily at Rosie, then states, “She wanted me to log into TJ’s MyChart.”

“You do not have permission to look at my son’s medical records!” Sonja says with force. “This is insanity.”

Natalie, who is still clutching Rosie’s phone in her hand, raises it into the air. “Do I need to take that phone, too?”

Rosie, too focused on the medical portal on the phone screen, doesn’t look up. Another bout of anxious silence looms over all of them as she continues doing whatever she is doing.

“This is really crazy,” Sonja says at last, her hands balled into tight fists. “Rosie–“

“That’s it,” Rosie announces, her eyes suddenly popping up.

“What is?” Tim asks.

“These dates,” Rosie says, suddenly breathless. “It all makes sense now.”

—–

Inside the house, the mood is no less tense.

Sarah Fisher Gray stands near the fireplace, arms folded tightly across her chest. Her husband and daughter occupy one side of the sectional sofa, while Landon Esco lingers nearby. Claire Fisher picks up half-drained coffee cups from the wooden table. And Paula Fisher sits with her elbows on her knees in an armchair, her face creased with worry.

“I keep hoping this is all a nightmare,” Paula says.

“Still no word from Travis?” Sarah asks.

“Nothing yet,” Claire says. “Maybe Rosie has heard something.”

“Where is Rosie?” Landon wonders. “And Tim?”

“Ummm…” Tempest Banks says from the corner of the room, where she has just peeked through the window that offers a view of the backyard. “You all might wanna get a look at this.”

“At what?” Claire asks as she hurries to join Tempest, two coffee cups still in her hands.

Tempest points out toward the yard, where Rosie holds a phone in her hand and seems to be making some sort of pronouncement. Tim looks stunned. Sonja’s posture has gone rigid.

“Something’s going down,” Tempest says.

Tori stands from the couch and peers out. “It looks serious.”

“Maybe we need to go check this out,” Sarah says, already moving toward the kitchen. The others quickly follow.

In the kitchen, they discover TJ sitting alone at the table, finishing the last few bites of his lunch. The sight of the little boy gives the group pause.

“I don’t think he should…” Claire says, not wanting to finish the thought in front of TJ.

“I’ll stay with him,” Paula offers. The others open the sliding glass door and shuffle outside, as Paula joins her grandson at the table.

“What’s going on?” the boy asks.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Paula admits, unable to resist watching the action through the glass pane of the door.

—–

In Gabrielle Taylor’s bedroom, the toddler and Travis Fisher sit together on the floor. The pale pink walls surround them as they put together a puzzle with large pieces, which is starting to form an image of a glittering unicorn.

“Now where do you think this one goes?” Travis asks, handing a piece to Gabrielle.

She studies it for a long moment, screwing up her face with extreme concentration.

“I think here,” she declares, sticking the piece right beside one with similar colors that, even with a passing glance, Travis can tell is not going to be a match.

“Let’s see about that,” he says gently, not wanting to dash her confidence. As he examines the piece some more, he hears footsteps approaching. He turns his head to see Molly Taylor at the open door.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” she asks, and he immediately clocks that something about her expression, her energy, seems off.

He immediately rises. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just… come here.” She motions for him to join her in the hallway.

“Try and get that piece to fit!” he tells Gabrielle encouragingly.

In the hallway, Travis leans against the wall. “What is it? I don’t know if I can take any more bad news.”

“Brent had to go,” Molly tells him. “He got a text. From Rosie.”

Travis’s eyes go wide. “What? What’s going on?”

“It’s good news, Travis. She– she thinks she identified the real killer.”

For a moment, Travis just stares at her. Then he laughs. Not because it’s funny, but because it is so unbelievable.

“I’m serious,” Molly says.

“No.” He shakes his head disbelievingly. “There’s no way, Aunt Molly. She would’ve called me.”

“I don’t really know what’s going on, but she asked Brent to go over to your dad’s house right away. Maybe you should go, too.”

“She could be wrong,” he says softly, like he is scared to let himself hope. Because hope could be dangerous right now.

“Or she could have just saved your life,” Molly insists.

Travis looks back through the doorway, at Gabrielle working on her puzzle — the little girl he thought he was saying goodbye to. The memory of scratching his signature on the plea deal only an hour ago runs through his mind.

What if…? he wonders, too dazed to move.

—–

The others spill into the backyard just as Rosie lowers the phone.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asks immediately.

Rosie doesn’t answer. Her eyes remain fixed on Sonja, which Tim notices.

“Do I get to know what any of this means?” he questions.

Rosie turns the phone around to show him. “These records show that TJ was diagnosed with a low red blood cell count before he and Sonja came back to King’s Bay.”

“Okay…” Tim says uncertainly.

“He had been getting sick!” Sonja says. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“They were already talking about aplastic anemia and the possibility of needing a bone marrow transplant,” Rosie explains. “It’s all here. Dates. Consultations. Tests. The prospect of familial matches.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with anything,” Claire says.

“She knew,” Sarah whispers to Claire. “Sonja knew TJ was sick.”

Tim studies the records on his phone screen, as if willing this to make sense.

“You knew you had to bring TJ back to King’s Bay to find a match,” Rosie says, her gaze locked upon Sonja, “but you couldn’t do that unless…”

“Unless Loretta was out of the way,” Tim says, lifting his head. “Oh my god.”

Sarah lets out a nervous laugh. “So when we found you, Sonja…”

“She wanted to be found,” Rosie fills in.

“What the hell?” Landon says, shell-shocked. “So we didn’t really track you down?”

Sonja remains tight-lipped, but there is a wild energy in her eyes now.

“You needed access to TJ’s siblings and cousins to find a match,” Tim says. “So you killed Loretta to make it safe to come back.”

Samantha gasps. Tempest grabs onto her to steady her.

Sonja takes a step backward. Then another. Natalie watches her warily, wondering what her friend might do — and how she can stop this slow-motion trainwreck.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Rosie presses. “You poisoned Loretta.”

“Stop it!” Sonja screams. The word explodes out of her. Her eyes dart toward the house, and a moment later, she breaks for the back door. But Sarah, Landon, and Tori block her path.

“I want my son,” Sonja says frantically. “I need my son.”

For a brief second, Sonja looks like a trapped animal. Then her eyes land on the outdoor staircase, leading up to the balcony outside Tim and Claire’s bedroom. She sprints toward it and takes the steps two at a time.

“Go inside and head her off,” Tim says to no one in particular.

“I don’t think she can get in that way,” Claire says, and they watch as Sonja tugs on the sliding door to the bedroom. Nothing. She pulls harder. Still nothing. The door is locked.

Slowly, she turns around. The family members below stare up at her.

Now there is nowhere left to run.

—–

Brent Taylor doesn’t even fully cut the engine before he throws open the door of his SUV. Leaving the vehicle parked sloppily at the curb, he races toward the front door of Tim and Claire’s house.

But then he hears voices in the distance. It takes him a moment to realize where they are coming from: the backyard.

“There’s nowhere else to run,” a female voice calls out, and Brent immediately recognizing it as belonging to Rosie.

He starts toward the side of the house, where the gate to the backyard is located. When he pushes through the gate, he discovers more people than he can take in — Tim, Claire, Sarah, Rosie, and others, scattered over the grass, while Sonja stands over them on the bedroom balcony.

She is breathing hard, like she has been cornered, trapped.

“Thank god you’re here,” Rosie says to the police commander.

“A squad car is on the way,” Brent says. “What’s going on?”

Nobody answers him right away, though he sees several mouths open and close. It gives the impression that no one actually knows how to explain what is happening.

“Your text,” Brent says to Rosie. “You said you knew who killed Loretta.”

“It all makes sense,” Rosie explains. “We all thought TJ was diagnosed with aplastic anemia after he and Sonja came back to town. But she actually found out months before that.”

Tim passes Brent the phone and points to something. “Rosie’s right. There are entries in his chart from way before we started having him tested.”

Brent looks up at Sonja. “How did you do it?”

Sonja swallows hard but says nothing.

“She must have snuck back into town the night of the gala,” Rosie says.

“This still sounds very far-fetched,” Natalie interjects.

Rosie shoots her an irritated look and continues, “Then she planted breadcrumbs so Landon and Sarah would find her. So we wouldn’t notice how convenient the timing was.”

Landon hangs his head down in disbelief. “I really thought we found her.”

Tori places a hand on his shoulder to console him.

“You don’t have any proof,” Sonja says. “Not for any of this.”

“She swiped Travis’s keys one night when we were here for dinner and planted the poison in his gym bag in the car,” Rosie goes on, her words and her anger picking up steam. “Then she made it seem like TJ had innocently taken the keys to play with. She set Travis up, knowing he could go to prison.”

All eyes land on Sonja again, and the intensity of their gazes finally causes her to snap. Her voice breaks out into something raw: “I didn’t have a choice!”

Down on the ground, everyone stands in stunned silence.

“I didn’t want to do this,” Sonja says. “But TJ could have died if I wasn’t able to bring him back here for that transplant. And with Loretta threatening us, I just… I had to let it happen. I had to… change. Into the kind of person who could do something like that. I had to save my son’s life.”

She breaks down in tears, covering her face with her hands.

“You need to come down from there,” Brent says.

Sonja shakes her head. “I want my son.”

“Come down now, and we can work this out,” Brent tells her, compassionate but firm.

But she doesn’t move. Her eyes fix on something behind them all. Heads turn to see Travis entering the yard.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks. “Rosie, did you really–“

“It was her!” Rosie shouts, pointing up at Sonja as she races to Travis’s side. She throws her arms around his neck. “It was her.”

“What?” Travis looks up toward the balcony. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t want any of this to happen,” Sonja says. “I’m so sorry.”

The sound of distant police sirens fills the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Sonja repeats through tears, as the crowd below continues to watch her with shock.

END OF EPISODE 1303

What comes next for Travis and Sonja?
Will Natalie be able to cover for herself?
Did the reveal surprise you?
Discuss it all in the comments below!