Previously…
– Sophie’s “Shannon” persona was in control and was not pleased to be reminded that Sophie had agreed to babysit Chase for Alex and Trevor.
– Things remained tense between Trevor and Finn as they hid their one-night stand. A fearful Trevor secretly continued footing the bill for half of Finn’s rent to keep him quiet.
– Sonja confessed to killing Loretta and was arrested. Natalie feared that her own secrets would come out as a result.

The Lookout is packed. Rainbow streamers hang from the ceiling. Colored lights dance across the walls. A drag queen in a sequined gown works the crowd between numbers, as patrons gather around small cocktail tables overlooking the shimmering bay.

At one table near the window, Samantha Fisher shakes her head.

“I swear, if my mom sends me one more ‘urgent’ text about centerpieces…”

Across from her, Alex Marshall grins. “That mean she’s excited.”

“It means she’s insane,” Samantha deadpans.

“Look at me, not commenting,” Tempest Banks pipes in before taking a big swig of her cocktail.

“It’s just… I told her it doesn’t matter. It’ll be nice regardless,” Samantha says. “We could go down to City Hall and then order pizza, as far as I’m concerned.”

“You know, I remember us having similar conversations once upon a time,” Trevor Brooks says. “Then I discovered that I had opinions about things like napkins and tablecloths.”

Samantha frowns at him. “I’ve seen the way you obsess over two nearly identical fonts or lipstick colors in a print at work.”

Trevor shrugs. “Comes with the territory.”

“You guys had an awesome wedding,” Tempest says. “Low-key, in the backyard, not fussy.”

Alex rests a hand on Trevor’s bicep. “It was a great day, yeah. But there were a lot of decisions to make.”

“One day he came home and I had fabric samples spread all over the dining room table,” Trevor explains. “He insisted they were all the same.”

“They were all white!” Alex counters.

“They were shades,” Trevor says. “There are different whites.”

Alex responds with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not buying it.”

“See?” Tempest comments to Samantha. “This is what we need to avoid.”

Before Samantha can respond, however, something near the club’s entrance catches her eye. “Is that…?”

Tempest turns. Alex follows their gazes, and Trevor twists in his seat to do the same. They watch as a familiar young man steps inside, appearing equal parts amazed and terrified.

“Is that Christian?” Trevor asks.

“If it’s Caleb, I’d have a lot more questions,” Tempest says.

Christian Taylor freezes when he realizes that all four of them are staring at him. Then he offers a weak wave. After a moment’s hesitation, Samantha motions for her cousin to join them.

“Uh, hey,” Christian says.

“Enjoying Pride?” Samantha asks with a mix of disapproval and amused accusation.

“You know, I’ll be 21 this fall,” the younger man responds.

“I don’t think bars usually round up,” Alex says.

Wincing, Christian holds up a realistic-looking plastic ID card. “They didn’t need to. Caleb lent me his fake.”

Samantha groans. “Of course he did.”

“At least he’s a good ally,” Trevor offers.

“Can you guys please not tell my mom and dad?” Christian pleads. “I just wanted to… check out some of the Pride festivities. Maybe even meet some queer people IRL. Using Grindr didn’t exactly work out for me…” He shudders at the memory of his fling with Robbie Wimbiscus.

Alex pulls out a chair. “I suppose we’re already accessories, so we might as well keep an eye on you.”

“And no drinking,” Trevor playfully warns Christian.

The college student appears ready to argue, but his resistance withers under Trevor’s playful smirk.

“Fine, fine,” Christian says as he takes the seat.

“Don’t make us regret this,” Samantha tells him.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everybody in-between,” the emcee announces, “give a big old King’s Bay Pride welcome to your next performer, Princess Guyana…”

—–

The living room inside Alex and Trevor’s cozy bungalow is bathed in soft lamplight. Chase Marshall-Brooks hovers near the back door.

“I wanna go back outside!” the little boy declares.

“It’s getting dark,” Sophie Fisher — or her mouth, at least — says from her post on the couch, where she is half-reclined, her phone in her hand.

“But it’s not dark yet.”

“You can see outside from here. It’s basically the same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Chase says, folding his arms.

“We were outside for a long time. And I’m trying to be responsible,” she tells him, though what Shannon really wants is for the kid to stop blathering long enough so she can focus on the true-crime TikToks she is watching.

“You know what? Here.” She hands him the iPad, which has been left on the coffee table. “I won’t tell your dads if you don’t.”

“Deal,” he says, snatching the tablet from her. Within moments, he is absorbed in it, screen glow washing over his face.

Shannon sinks back into the couch, already disengaging, but before she can fully check out, the doorbell rings. She tenses, then decides to ignore it. But she can see that Chase has perked up.

“It’s probably a delivery,” she says.

He appears ready to believe her, until the chime sounds again.

“I can get it!” Chase announces, flinging the iPad down on the couch.

“I feel like that’s not the best idea,” Shannon grumbles as she follows him to the entryway. She steps in front of Chase and says, “I’ll get it.”

She checks the peephole and sees a man in his early or mid-thirties, put-together with calm posture and well-maintained eyebrows. Something about him is distantly familiar in a way that she cannot quite place, a way that spikes a bit of alarm within her. Shannon begins to rack Sophie’s memories as best she can to try and identify him.

She cracks the door open. “Alex and Trevor aren’t home. Sorry.”

The man appears taken aback. “Oh. You’re Jason’s daughter, right?”

As much as it pains her to nod in response, she does. “Sophie. Yeah.”

“I’m Finn. Campbell. I used to work at Objection with Trevor,” the man explains.

The name lands like a faint hook in her memory, but it’s only a flicker of something that she cannot quite grab onto.

“Ah. Right. Well, I’m babysitting for them. They’re out for a Pride thing.”

“Dammit. I was hoping to catch Trevor,” Finn says.

“That’s a bad word,” Chase announces from behind Shannon.

Finn’s eyes dart to the child with surprise. “Sorry, kid.”

“So why didn’t you just text or call?” Shannon asks, her brain still working overtime to sort out whether this is someone she — or, rather, Sophie — should remember, or could use in some way. “What do you need from Trevor?”

—–

The visiting room at the prison is bright in a way that feels insulting — fluorescent light washing out any sense of time or comfort. A pane of scratched plexiglass separates two worlds that don’t quite align: the visitors and the prisoners.

Sonja Kahele sits on one side of it, hands folded loosely, a faint smile already forming when she sees Natalie Bishop being led in.

“Hi,” Sonja says as soon as Natalie picks up the phone receiver on the other side. Her tone is warm and immediate. “You made it.”

Natalie manages a small smile. “I told you I would.”

On Sonja’s side, there is a flicker of something almost relieved. “I know. It just… it helps.”

A pause settles between them. It is not exactly uncomfortable, but full.

“How are you holding up?” Natalie asks carefully.

Sonja lets out a short breath that might be a laugh if it weren’t so exhausted. “Depends on the hour. I still haven’t been able to see TJ. Tim wants to wait until my sentencing is set. He thinks it’ll be easier to have that information for TJ.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Natalie says quickly.

“Do you think so?”

“It’s a lot for a child to take in. But I’m sorry. I know how hard it must be for you to be away from him.”

“I’ve barely been away from him at all since he was born,” Sonja says. “And now this.”

Natalie offers a sympathetic look, even as a sting of guilt flares within her. If she hadn’t brought Sonja into Spencer and Loretta‘s worlds, none of this would be happening. Then again, Sonja wouldn’t have even met Tim, so she wouldn’t have TJ at all, either.

“I’m so ashamed,” Sonja continues, eyes cast down on the peeling formica countertop in front of her. “I was just so desperate… now I’ve lost everything. My son, Conrad, my freedom.”

“You haven’t lost me,” Natalie tells her. “I’m your friend.”

“Thanks, Natalie. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a good friend. I’ve been so stupid. I’ve done some horrible things…”

Natalie feels a different emotion spike within her now: panic. It is the same cold icicle she has felt every time she has thought about Sonja since that day in the backyard when Sonja confessed to killing Loretta. Frankly, it is a major reason she has come to visit Sonja so often over the past few weeks: to make sure that she hasn’t spilled the beans about being paid to sabotage Spencer’s recovery.

She shakes her head nervously. “Sonja. Don’t. Especially not here.”

Sonja sits up, looking back at her with surprise.

“Don’t say anything that you wouldn’t want overheard or recorded,” Natalie warns her.

“You’re right,” Sonja says before letting out a heavy exhale. “I just…”

“And don’t go around admitting to things that no one is even asking about. That’s the kind of thing that could get you a more severe sentence — and keep you away from TJ longer than you need to be.”

“Okay. Yeah. You’re right.” Sonja nods a little too quickly. “Maybe I’m overthinking. There’s too much time to think in here.”

“Don’t do anything that will compromise your ability to get out as soon as possible and be back with your son,” Natalie says.

“That’s what I need to focus on,” Sonja agrees, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

When Natalie returns to her car after their visit, she sits there without starting the engine for a long moment. No, Sonja didn’t confess anything… but she sounded like someone who wanted to. And that is not something that Natalie can afford.

—–

The applause for Princess Guyana’s performance of “Candle in the Wind” is still echoing through the Lookout when Christian returns from the bar carrying a clear drink with a wedge of lime in it.

“That had better be Sprite,” Samantha says.

“Club soda with lime,” Christian explains. “You think I’m wasting calories on a Sprite?”

“Spoken like a true gay man,” Trevor says with a laugh. Christian cuts an adoring look sideways at him, pleased by the reaction. Alex, noticing this, sucks in his lips, amused.

“So,” Samantha says as Christian sits back in his chair, “what do you think of the show?”

“I mean, it’s cool to see drag up close like this,” Christian tells them. “I’ve watched a lot of Drag Race, but that’s different.”

“See anyone you like?” Tempest questions. “Not drag queens. Unless you’re into that. But I mean guys.”

Christian lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Obviously. But I’m not… I just wanted to be around gay people. That probably sounds stupid.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all,” Tempest replies. “Most of us kind of back into it. The community part comes after you’ve had to figure out all this stuff on your own.”

Trevor leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. “And that’s why the wedding should be a big deal!”

Samantha and Tempest exchange a perplexed look.

“I don’t follow,” Tempest says.

“Because it’s a public show of community,” Trevor says. He turns toward Christian. “Sam and Tempest were saying they didn’t even care about having a wedding as long as they could be married. But I think the wedding is important.” He clasps Alex’s hand. “When we got married, it had only been legal for, like, a year and a half nationwide.”

“Way to make us sound young,” Alex laughs.

Trevor squeezes his hand. “What’s that thing they always say? ‘The first Pride was a protest’? So is a same-sex wedding. Doing it at all — that’s a protest against the bigotry and the hatred.”

Alex grins. “My husband, the activist.”

“Wow,” Christian marvels with a twinkle in his eye. “That’s such a great way to look at it.”

“So you’re saying we should have a huge wedding?” Samantha asks.

“I’m saying you should have whatever kind of wedding you want, but the visibility is even more important than the celebration itself,” Trevor says. “Although the celebrating is pretty good.”

“I’m definitely more into the big wedding if it’s a stick-it-to-the-man kinda thing,” Tempest agrees.

Alex lays his head on Trevor’s shoulder. “And I’m a very lucky guy.”

He lifts his head to kiss Trevor quickly. Trevor does his best to blink away the twinge of guilt that flashes over him, as the memory of his betrayal pushes itself to the front of his consciousness once again.

—–

Finn considers Sophie for a long moment before answering, “I need a favor from Trevor.”

“What kind of favor?” she asks.

“A job recommendation. I’m applying for a job — still in fashion, but on the supply side — and I need a reference from someone at Objection.”

“And Trevor is the only person in the entire company who can provide that?”

“It’s complicated,” he says.

As she leans against the doorframe, arms folded, memories hit her like lightning bolts cracking through the clouds.

“Wait,” Shannon says. “You were one of the people trying to kick my aunt out of Objection, weren’t you?”

Finn visibly tenses. “It was more complicated than that.”

“Mm-hmm.” The dark-haired teen stares him down. “Trevor is close with Mo– with my Aunt Molly. Why would he help you after what you tried to do to her?”

“Because I’m his and Alex’s tenant, and it’s in their best interests for me to be employed,” Finn says. “What’s with the third degree?”

“What’s with the showing up unannounced looking for a favor from someone who doesn’t owe you anything?”

Those manicured eyebrows jump up. “O-kay. I didn’t come here to get a bunch of attitude from a high-schooler. I’ll get in touch with Trevor on my own.”

If you only knew who you were actually dealing with, Shannon thinks, but she knows that she has to be mindful of the anonymity that Sophie’s body gives her, even if the limitations are equally frustrating.

“Cool,” she says as breezily as she can. “Later.”

She watches him go, but something in her expression doesn’t settle even after the door closes.

“That guy was weird,” Chase says from behind her.

Shannon blinks. “You think everybody’s weird. But you aren’t wrong.”

The encounter already forgotten, Chase drifts back to the living room and the iPad. She stands in the quiet of the entryway for a moment longer than she intends to, as another one of those hooks takes hold in her brain. Something from long ago — months and months, probably — drifts into view, hazy at first, then taking on more definition.

She sees an expanse of grass, dotted with rocks. No, gravestones. The cemetery.

And she sees Finn Campbell lingering near one of them.

Squeezing her eyes closed, the name on the gravestone finally melts into focus.

Camille Lemieux.

“What the hell would you have been doing at her grave?” Shannon mutters in Sophie’s voice, now convinced that there is something much deeper at play here than a job reference.

END OF EPISODE 1306

What will Sophie do with her suspicions about Finn?
Are you excited for Samantha and Tempest’s wedding?
Is Sonja going to crack and make things worse for Natalie?
Discuss it all in the comments below!