Previously…
– Travis signed a plea deal to accept responsibility for Loretta’s murder, out of desperation to end the ordeal for his loved ones.
– Rosie realized that Sonja was the actual killer and got her to confess to the truth. Sonja was arrested.
– Sophie remained confused about why she was losing time, unaware that she was suffering from multiple personalities.

The sound of a gavel echoes through the courtroom. Travis Fisher stands at the defense table, his hands trembling at his sides.

Throughout the room, nearly every face is turned toward him: Rosie. Tim. Claire. Paula. Sarah. Landon. Samantha. Tempest. And all the others. All of them watching and waiting.

The judge looks down from the bench.

“Mr. Fisher, do you have anything you’d like to add?”

Travis swallows hard. He opens his mouth to speak — but no sound comes out. He turns with surprise toward Conrad Halston.

“Help,” he says — or tries to say, but again, the sound will not come, even as the word grows louder inside his mind.

“Mr. Fisher!” the judge barks, rapping his gavel loudly. “You need to explain yourself.”

Travis begins waving his arms. He looks to Conrad again, but now the attorney is gone. He swivels his body around, desperate for help from his loved ones, but one by one, they disappear, too, fading into nothingness.

Travis feels the cold steel of handcuffs being fastened around his wrists. He realizes that two guards are now flanking him, ready to take him into custody.

“Mr. Fisher, I have no choice but to adhere to the terms of your plea deal. You’ll be remanded to King County Prison for no fewer than fifteen years.”

It was a maximum of fifteen! With a chance of parole! Travis wants to shout, but he cannot make the sound come out. The guards roughly force him out from behind the table. He resists, using his weight to pull back, but that only makes their actions more violent.

Then he feels a hand on his chest.

“Travis,” the voice says, and he realizes that it is Rosie, and he is in their bed in her family’s home, daytime sunlight spilling through the curtains.

“I heard you from the other room,” she says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

He stares at her, getting his bearings.

“I thought a nap would be a good idea,” he says helplessly.

“The nightmare again?”

He nods. He cannot believe that he is having these same nightmares — even in the middle of the day — all this time later. It has been weeks since Sonja Kahele confessed to Loretta‘s murder, since the District Attorney voided Travis’s plea deal. He has been a free man for weeks, everywhere but in his own mind.

“It felt so real,” he says.

“I know. But it wasn’t. You’re here. With us.”

She takes his hand and places it on her stomach. She is unmistakably pregnant now, into her third trimester, and the thought that their child is in there, waiting to meet them, helps bring him back to reality.

“It’s over,” Rosie reminds him before leaning forward to plant a kiss on his forehead. He hopes that one day, someday soon, he will really and truly believe that. In the meantime, he is grateful that she believes enough for both of them.

Spencer Ragan pauses outside the elevator. For a moment, he considers turning back around, riding the elevator down to the lobby, and driving home to continue working from his laptop, like he has been doing for many weeks now. No one would blame him, probably.

But he is extremely aware that he is finding himself on the fringes of projects, and today’s author meeting is an important one. The competitive part of him, the part that went to prep school, hates feeling sidelined like this, like any other cog in the machine. So he takes a deep breath and pushes through the front doors of the office suite.

He feels the receptionist’s surprised gaze land upon him, but he keeps moving briskly, offering just a raised hand in greeting before he swipes his badge and proceeds to the inner sanctum of the office.

The familiar sounds greet him immediately: phones ringing, keyboards clicking, conversations drifting over cubicle walls. A few heads turn. He offers a polite nod to an I.T. manager who looks startled to see him but quickly recovers.

“Good afternoon, Spencer,” the man says.

“Hey,” Spencer says without breaking his stride.

Near the copy room, two employees lower their voices as he approaches. One manages to pass him a small smile. He does his best to return it.

By the time he reaches his own office, he already feels exhausted. He drops his leather laptop bag onto the desk and takes in the room. Nothing has changed. Framed photographs remain exactly where he had them hung. The same cylinder full of mismatched pens rests on the desk. The framed photo of Peter gleams back at him from the bookshelf. It feels as though this place has been frozen in time.

If only the rest of his life had been.

A soft knock sounds at the door. Spencer turns to see Tim Fisher standing in the opening.

“There you are.”

Spencer forces a smile. “I couldn’t miss this meeting.”

“I’m glad you’re here. Got a minute?”

Though he knows the time almost to the minute, Spencer makes a show of checking his phone anyway. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”

“Good,” Tim tells his son. “Because we’re way overdue to chat.”

—–

Sophie Fisher is halfway to the front door when she hears her father’s voice behind her.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

She closes her eyes, just for a second, taking a moment to gather herself. “Shannon” reminds herself that this is part of the trade-off right now — in order to use Sophie’s body, she needs to appease the people in Sophie’s life. By the time she turns around, she has a bright smile on her face.

“Out.”

Jason Fisher looks up from the paperwork spread over the dining room table. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

She grins. “Good. I was trying to be mysterious.”

“Mission accomplished.” He sets down his pen. “So what’s the plan here?”

“I was, um, thinking I’d go visit Travis,” she explains. “I haven’t seen him and Rosie since everything came out about Loretta.”

“That’s a sweet idea,” Jason says. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”

She scours her brain. There are a million thoughts crammed in there, ideas and half-sketched flashes of memory and fantasy. Sometimes she has trouble sorting through them.

“No… I don’t think so…”

“Soph.” Jason stands from his chair. “You–“

It hits her in a flash. “Oh my god. Chase.”

“Right. You agreed to babysit for Alex and Trevor tonight,” he says. He studies her curiously. “You totally forgot?”

“I… I agreed, like, a million years ago because they wanted to make their Pride plans so far in advance. I forgot with everything going on. You know, finals and school letting out and everything.”

School, she thinks with disdain. What a relief not to have to deal with that for a few months.

“Well, this is a good start to your summer break,” Jason says. “Earn a little spending money and help out some friends.”

She flashes that smile again. “Right. I’ll, um, I’ll visit Travis and Rosie tomorrow.”

“Good idea. You know, I can drop you off and pick you up tonight, if you’re feeling out of it.”

“Out of it? Do I seem out of it?”

That sets Jason back on his heels. “I just meant — you forgot about babysitting–“

“I’m fine, Dad. I’ll drive myself.” She moves back toward the staircase. “But thanks.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he says, and she can feel his gaze burning into her as she ascends back up the staircase, mentally recalibrating her entire night.

—–

The sound of running water drifts down the staircase as Rosie makes her way toward the front door. After his failed nap and the nightmare, she was worried that Travis might spend the rest of the day shut away in their bedroom, replaying everything that had happened. Instead, he finally climbed out of bed and went to take a hot shower. It isn’t much, but it’s something.

The doorbell rings again.

“Coming!” she calls as she quickens her pace as much as possible given the growing limitations of her body.

When she reaches the front door, she pulls it open and is taken aback to see Brent Taylor standing on the wooden porch.

“Brent. Is this–“

“Not about Travis’s case, no. That’s over and done,” he says, sticking his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans in a way that Rosie has rarely seen him do. He seems, well, nervous.

“Can I come in for a minute?” he asks.

With an uncertain nod, she steps aside.

“Is Travis home? How’s he doing?” Brent inquires.

“He’s in the shower. He’s… well, he’s happy to be free. And I’m happy that he is, too.”

Brent nods. “We’re all happy for you guys. And you’re in the final stretch…”

She places both hands on top of her stomach. “I kinda can’t believe it.”

“Well, look,” he says. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. But there are a couple of things I needed to see you about.”

Rosie furrows her brow. “What’s going on?”

“The first thing is that I need to commend the hell out of you, Rosie. You put together the pieces about Sonja when no one else could. We’re all grateful. And very impressed.”

Flustered, she finds herself shaking her head. “I just…”

“Used your instincts. And you were like a bulldog with that case. You weren’t letting it go. Not even when Travis went to sign that deal.”

“I couldn’t let him sacrifice himself like that.”

“I get it. I would’ve done the same if it were Molly.” He cracks a grin. “You know how bad it makes us look that someone who isn’t even on the force was the one to figure it out?”

She folds her arms. “I did what I had to do.”

“You did a damn good job,” Brent says. “And look. I know you have plans for the foreseeable future. But after you have the baby, when you’re ready to go back to work… I want you back on the force.”

She lets out a disbelieving laugh. “I didn’t exactly leave on good terms.”

“No, but you left of your own accord. And I know there are a lot of painful, complicated things in our past. But I think — I hope — there’s been some healing, and I hope there will be a lot more.”

Rosie draws in a breath through her nostrils as she listens to the patter of the shower upstairs.

“How does Detective Jimenez sound?” Brent asks.

“Detective? Really?”

“You deserve the promotion. And frankly, we need you.” He takes a step closer. “I’m not expecting an answer today. But I wanted to put a bug in your ear. Let you know the offer is there whenever you’re ready.”

For the last several months, her entire future has seemed consumed by court dates, desperate leads, and fear. But now, someone is asking what she wants.

“I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead,” she admits.

“You don’t have to.”

She smiles thoughtfully. “No. But it’s nice to know I have the option.”

“You deserve this,” Brent tells her. “The KBPD would be very lucky to have you back.”

—–

Tim eases the door to Spencer’s office closed.

“How are you doing? Really?” he asks.

The question hangs between them. Spencer lets out a slow breath.

“I haven’t come up with a good answer for that yet,” he admits.

“That’s okay.”

“I felt everyone staring at me the minute I walked into the office. That must mean I look as terrible as I feel.”

“You don’t look terrible. But you’re allowed to feel that way.”

Spencer stares down at the tightly woven gray carpet.

“When they arrested Sonja, I thought I’d feel something. Relief, maybe.”

Tim waits.

“I spent months obsessed with finding out who killed my mother so they could be punished,” Spencer says. “I was convinced it was Travis.”

He glances up, as if ready for Tim to pounce on that, but Tim lets it float by.

“You’re not going to jump down my throat about that?” Spencer questions.

“There was evidence. A lot of it was convincing. I’m not going to tell you that you were wrong for believing it.”

Spencer sucks in his lips, his eyes hazy with thought. Finally he says, “You know what I keep thinking about?”

“What?”

“The time I stayed at your house. After I fell down the stairs.”

Understanding dawns on Tim at once. He has been thinking about that time, too.

“When I hired Sonja to take care of you,” he says.

Spencer’s head bobs up and down. “I remember her sitting by my bedside, helping me in and out of the wheelchair, helping me get dressed and do the tiniest things… I couldn’t have gotten through that without her. She took such good care of me.”

“She did.” Tim sets his jaw. “Clearly I fell for it, too.”

“For her to turn around and be capable of murder — not just killing someone in the heat of the moment, but to plan it out like that…”

“I’m still in shock, I think.”

“How’s TJ doing?”

“All we’ve told him is that his mom had to go away for a few weeks. Once her sentence is worked out, we’re going to take him to see her. Let Sonja tell him herself that she’ll be gone for a while.”

“Poor kid. I can’t even imagine having to tell Peter that kind of thing.”

Tim sighs. “You’d think I’d be an old pro at this parenting thing by now. But this is one I haven’t had to face before.”

“So what happens now?” Spencer asks. “For all of us.”

“I wish I had a good answer for you,” Tim tells him. “We take it one step at a time. Put one foot in front of the other and keep moving. But there is something I want you to know.”

Spencer cocks his head to one side.

“Claire and I… we’re sorry if you felt isolated during the trial. We had to be there for Travis. I know you felt like we were picking sides — but he was wrongly accused of something that could have sent him to jail for life. We didn’t mean to minimize your grief.”

“I get it,” Spencer says, and although there is a tinge of bitterness in the words, he doesn’t push it further. Maybe he doesn’t have the fight in him today. Maybe he just needs his parents more than he needs another battle.

“We’re all going to find our way,” Tim assures him. “In the meantime, are you ready for this meeting? You have no idea how happy I am to have you back.”

“Honestly? That’s all I needed to hear,” Spencer admits.

END OF EPISODE 1305

Will Spencer and the Fishers be able to move forward?
Should Rosie rejoin the force after she has the baby?
Is Sophie in any condition to babysit for Chase right now?
Discuss it all in the comments below!