Previously…
– After digging into old court records, a vengeful Tempest dropped the bomb that Diane conceived Samantha not by having an affair with Tim, but by lying that she was his wife when he was suffering from amnesia.
– Samantha was horrified to discover that she had been conceived via sexual assault and raced out, making it clear that she wanted nothing to do with Diane or Tempest.
– Sabrina came to visit a comatose Spencer at the hospital and talked with Claire. They were stunned when Spencer opened his eyes and spoke.

“Help… me…”

Sabrina Gage stands frozen, several feet from the hospital bed, as Claire Fisher hurries back inside the room toward her son.

“Spencer,” she says. “Can you hear me?”

“Help.” The word comes out in the thick of a groan, but his eyes are open, and he seems to be looking directly at Claire, taking her in.

“It’s happening. He’s waking up!” Claire says.

Sabrina maintains a safe distance, not wanting to be in the way, but the visible change in Spencer’s condition makes her emotions surge.

“Can you hear me?” Claire asks the young man.

His gaze is glassy, but Spencer is clearly studying her. His eyelids flutter. The name emerges slowly: “Claire.”

“Yes. That’s me.” She grasps his hand. “I’m going to go get a doctor.”

“I’ll go to the waiting room,” Sabrina says as she moves for the door.

On her way out, Claire pauses and turns to the other woman. “Thank you for being here. I really think it might’ve helped him.”

“I just hope he’s okay.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Claire says, casting one last look back at her son before she heads down the hallway.

—–

Diane Bishop trembles as she stands on the curb beside Tempest Banks, watching her daughter’s sedan pull off into the summer night. Normally, elaborate plans for revenge against Tempest would be exploding inside Diane like the notes of a beautiful symphony, but right now, they are muted almost entirely by the shock of what has happened.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Diane snaps.

Fists balled at her sides, shoulders drawn back, Tempest stands defiantly. “You deserved it.”

“Samantha did not deserve that. What you’ve done– you have no idea.” With that, Diane turns and races back up the stairs to her condo. She quickly grabs her purse, keys, and phone, and when she returns to the parking lot, Tempest is gone.

Diane hurries to her own car and, with shaking hands, starts the engine. She begins driving before she even knows where she is going. Using the car’s Bluetooth system, she tries Samantha’s cell several times — but each call is cut off after only a ring or two, sent directly to voicemail. If there is anything Diane Bishop hates, it’s being out-of-control of a situation, and she has about as much agency in this current disaster as a rider being dragged by a runaway horse.

Her head spins and her stomach sears as she mechanically makes turns and stops through the streets of King’s Bay. It all happened so quickly that it almost seems like a nightmare, except she knows that it isn’t. She has always known — or at least feared — that this day might come. Over the years, it has become somewhat easier to set aside the thought, as life has progressed and changed and so much of the past has receded. But she has never been able to block out the essential truth:

That she assaulted Tim. That she raped him.

She didn’t see it that way when it happened. She saw it as using a situation to her advantage. It was only after she lost custody of her infant daughter and left King’s Bay that she began to understand how horrific Samantha’s conception really was. And she has spent the years since attempting to rectify that — by being a good mother to Samantha, by being a friend to Tim no matter what — even though she knows that she can’t change the past.

She simply hoped that Samantha would never find out, that this could be her private cross to bear for the rest of her life.

When she arrives at the Fisher home, she waits in the parked car for a full minute to gather herself. It doesn’t entirely work, but finally, she has the composure to get out of the car, climb the front steps, and ring the doorbell.

“I saw your text,” Sarah Fisher Gray says as she opens the door. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s bad,” Diane says as she enters the house. She looks around and is able to see that the living room is empty. Still, she feels exposed, knowing that other people are in the house. “Can we go somewhere private?”

Sarah leads the way out to the back deck. Stars twinkle against the dark sky, giving the false illusion of a peaceful night. The two women settle into a pair of chairs on the deck.

“Samantha found out,” Diane says abruptly.

“What? Found out what?” Sarah studies her friend, and then it hits her out of the blue. “You mean…? How?”

“Tempest. That ignorant little bitch.”

“How did Tempest know?”

“She got into the old court files, somehow. She’s had it out for me because I got involved in Chase’s adoption.”

“And she thought this would hurt you,” Sarah says, nodding.

“She thought it would make Samantha see how evil I am. Which, great. Mission accomplished. She took off and won’t answer any of my calls.”

“I have an idea where she might be.” Sarah picks up her phone and fires off a text message.

—–

Tim Fisher grabs his phone from the kitchen table and, after a moment’s deliberation, taps out a response.

“That was your Aunt Sarah,” he says. “Your mom is at the house. She’s worried about you.”

“Good.” Samantha sits across from him, arms folded in front of her body as if to protect her from any more assaults that the world might have in store tonight. “I don’t want to see her.”

“I just let her know that you’re here and you’re safe. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Samantha struggles to form her next words; the tears that have been coming and going ever since she took off in her car have left her eyes puffy and her throat clogged.

“I was… I was hoping you’d tell me it was a lie, or a misunderstanding,” she says.

Tim’s expression is grave. “I wish I could tell you that. But there’s no use lying anymore.”

“How could you all lie to me this entire time? My whole life?”

“Sam, it isn’t exactly the kind of thing you tell a child.”

“I’m not a child! And do you understand how much of Mom’s crap I’ve had to get involved with over the years?”

“I know. I know.” He sighs. “For all the times I’ve run this scenario through my head, I have no idea how to explain it to you.”

“Tell me what happened,” she insists, her tone much more forceful than it usually is. “I deserve to know.”

Tim hesitates, unsure if he can do this, but the sight of his daughter before him, so distraught and so desperate, forces the explanation out of him, one unsteady syllable at a time.

“I’d been shot, thanks to Claire’s father,” he says, “and when I woke up, I had no memory. None. I had no idea who I was, really.”

“And Mom came in and lied to you so she could sleep with you?”

“She said she was my wife. I believed her.”

“That’s sick! It’s psychotic. What, was she obsessed with you?”

“She… wanted to be with me,” he says slowly. “We worked together. She had feelings that I didn’t return.”

“I’ve always known she was out-there, but that’s… that’s really crazy. It’s so extreme.” Samantha drops her head into her hands. “How could you date her after that? How do you not hate her?”

“After Claire and I got custody of you, Diane left town. Aside from sending updates on you, we had no contact with her. And my feelings for her were… not warm. But then I went missing, and by the time I came back, so much was different.”

“So you forgave her? You dated her!”

“It was more complicated than that,” he says carefully. “It wasn’t like I decided to just be okay with what had happened. But by the time I came back, Diane had custody of you again, and she was doing a good job. She had changed– she was being responsible as a parent.”

“What she did was sexual assault.” Samantha pushes up her glasses on her nose. “It was rape. She’s a rapist.”

“I know. This is… It sounds crazy when I say it. But after everything that I’d been through, and all the readjusting, she was actually a friend to me. And we had to co-parent you. Things were different. If Nick Moriani and Loretta hadn’t done what they did to me– if I’d never been taken away…”

An uncomfortable silence settles over them. Samantha is the one to break it.

“So you all decided that I could never know? That you were going to rewrite history?”

“We agreed that it would be best for you if we moved forward,” Tim says. “If we put our energy into working together to give you a stable upbringing and any opportunities we could give you. That was much more important to me than punishing Diane for something that I knew she was already paying for inside.”

“You let her off the hook.”

“It isn’t–” But before he can complete the thought, his phone rings again. He plans to ignore it and focus on his daughter, but then he sees the source of the incoming call.

“Hang on,” he tells Samantha. “It’s the hospital.”

Understanding the importance of this, she sits up straighter and watches intently as he answers.

“It’s me,” Claire says over the line. “You’re going to want to come down here as soon as you can.”

“Why? What’s going on?” he asks.

“It’s Spencer. He’s awake.”

—–

“That was delicious,” Danielle Taylor says as she returns to the outdoor dining table to pick up her oversized pink sun hat, which was much-needed when the grilling in her brother’s backyard began a few hours ago, before the sun went down.

“We need to get all the use out of this backyard that we can before the rain comes back,” Brent agrees as he stacks the dirty dishes on one end of the table.

Danielle groans. “Don’t remind me. I’m enjoying summer too much.”

“Hey, Dad!” a voice calls from just inside the house. “Can I go now?”

Brent looks at his teenage son in the doorway and then gestures at the table. “I don’t see this stuff loaded into the dishwasher yet.”

“It’s Christian’s turn,” Caleb says.

“Christian made the salad and set the table. You’re on clean-up duty, man.”

Caleb rolls his eyes but nevertheless stomps outside to gather up the plates, cutlery, and cups. He attempts to pile it all into one precarious stack.

“You know, you can make two trips,” Brent says.

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

The two adults watch as Caleb slowly transports the mass of items back to the kitchen. He nearly loses it all at one point but manages to hold on and make it back inside the house.

“Should I be offended that he’s that desperate to get out of here that he couldn’t even bother to make two trips?” Brent asks Danielle.

“I think that’s just being a teenager.”

“Well, let’s go inside and you can play this album for me. I’ve been waiting.”

“You don’t have to listen to it in front of me,” she says with a laugh. “It’s on SoundCloud.”

“Do I look like I understand what SoundCloud is?”

“Don’t age yourself unnecessarily.” They walk toward the house. “But I’ll play some of it for you, sure.”

“I’m really proud of you,” Brent says as he motions for her to enter the kitchen. Caleb is at the sink, hastily rinsing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher.

Danielle sets her hat down on the countertop. “I’m not expecting much. But it’s out there, and it’s work that I love. I don’t have any delusions about it finding some enormous audience, but just having made and released the record is huge. It’s almost like I didn’t know how badly I needed to get this out of me until it was actually done.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.”

Brent’s cell phone begins to ring, and he pulls it from his pocket.

“One second,” he tells Danielle. “It’s Claire.” He steps to the side to field the call as the water from the sink continues running. “Hey. What’s up?” He listens with increasing interest. “Whoa. Yeah. I’ll come down there– No, I want to. I’ll see you in a few.”

He hangs up the call and turns back to Danielle. “I need to get to the hospital. Spencer just woke up.”

“Go. I can stay here with the boys,” she says.

Caleb shuts off the water abruptly. “We don’t need a babysitter. And I’m going out, remember?”

Brent sighs, knowing that this is a losing battle. “Fine. But I want a phone call from Keaton’s mom that you’re spending the night there. Got it?”

“That is so lame,” Caleb moans.

“You can have her call me, or you can hang here tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” he says as he turns the water back on to finish rinsing the dishes.

—–

“Whoa.” Travis Fisher sinks back into his plush living room couch. “That’s nuts. Are you sure?”

“I saw it in the court records from the custody case,” Tempest says. “And Diane sure as hell didn’t deny it!”

He stares straight ahead, at the TV where a Mariners game has been playing on mute since Tempest arrived in a frenzy. “I can’t believe I never heard anything about it.”

“Sam hadn’t, and it’s her damn life.”

“I know, but… I guess I never wanted to ask that many questions about why Dad would’ve had an affair with Diane when my mom was, like, eight months pregnant with me. Or Spencer. Whatever. God, this family is fucked-up.”

“I can’t believe that conniving heffa got away with it for so long.” Tempest flips over her phone. “And I can’t believe Sam hasn’t texted me back or anything. Like I’m the bad guy here.”

“I mean…” Travis scrunches one eye closed as he proceeds down a potentially ugly path of conversation. “You don’t get why she’d be upset?”

“At her mom, yeah! That woman is basically the devil. All I was doing was saving Sam from her grasp!”

“Okay, that’s maybe a little dramatic.”

“She raped him!”

The word blasts Travis for a moment. “I know. Jeez. It’s… yeah, it’s crazy. But this isn’t just about Diane doing something bad. It’s about Samantha — like, the reason she’s alive. And all our parents have kept it from her for her whole life.”

He can tell that his words have had some impact on Tempest, who purses her lips as she falls silent.

“Maybe it is something she has a right to know,” he continues, “but it’s a huge shock. And, no offense, it doesn’t sound like you were super-sensitive about it.”

“Shit,” Tempest finally mutters. “It’s like… she defends that woman so blindly, I want her to see…”

“I get it. But this has to be a huge blow to Samantha. Her mom has always been a little much for me, but we all always knew that she loved Samantha. To find out something like this must be devastating.”

Tempest lets out a loud groan and collapses backward onto the carpet where she has been sitting.

“I wanted her to stop defending Diane like she didn’t do anything wrong,” she says. “That lady butted in where she had no business– she made me talk to that man–”

“I get it,” Travis says. “But if you do love my sister–”

“I do!”

“–then you might need to admit that you hurt her really badly with this.” He grabs his own phone from the coffee table. “I need to check on her. Maybe she went to our dad’s.”

“That was the other place I almost checked.”

Travis hesitates a moment. “You know I’m your friend, but if she says she doesn’t want to see you…”

“Just make sure she’s okay,” Tempest says. “I can mind my own business for a hot minute.”

Travis types a text and sends it. He continues watching the screen, not even closing out of the message, and in only a few seconds, the telltale bubbles of a reply being composed appear. When it comes in, he reads it over twice before he addresses Tempest.

“She’s with my dad,” he says. “But she says they’re going to the hospital.”

—–

Sarah balances one glass of water in the crook of her arm and holds another in her hand as she slides the glass door closed.

“How are you doing?” she asks as she hands Diane one of the waters.

“Thanks,” Diane says as she takes the glass and then stares contemplatively at it. “And like shit, as if you couldn’t guess.”

“At least Samantha’s safe. Everything else, there’s time to work on.”

“Yeah, and maybe Tim will be able to calm her down. If I even deserve that.”

“Of course you deserve it. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Diane rockets forward in her chair as Sarah reclaims her own seat. “Everyone? For something like this?” She shakes her head, and the edges of her dark hair wag around. “Maybe not.”

“Look, I’m your friend. Tim is your friend. And you’ve been a great mother.”

“But that’s not enough.” Diane takes a sip of her water as her right shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. “It’s not. I’ve always pretended that if I were a great mother — if I put my daughter first, no matter what — then it might somehow make up for the way I brought her into this world. But, deep down, I always knew it couldn’t change the past.”

Sarah draws a deep breath and releases it slowly, clutching her water between both her palms.

“When you came back to King’s Bay,” she says, “and when we started to hit it off, I had major reservations. After what you’d done to my brother–”

“You were angry at your family. You wanted to lash out. So striking up a friendship with a woman who was persona non grata was perfect.”

“No, it wasn’t that. I swear. It was that I was stricken by how loyal you were, how committed you were to doing things right for your daughter. And that’s never changed.”

“I’ve done some messed-up things,” Diane says.

“But not at Samantha’s expense. Ever. And when Tim came back, you were there for him — hell, I know Claire was in a terrible position, but you were a rock for Tim in a way that even she wasn’t. And as angry as I was at you for the way you exposed Ryan being my mom’s son at the custody hearing–”

“I don’t need to be reminded.”

“Let me finish. As angry as I was at you, then Tim came back, and I saw how loyal you were to him, how different things were between the two of you.” Sarah looks up at the night sky. “It doesn’t change what you did, but you made a mistake — a really stupid, awful mistake — and you’ve spent years atoning for it.”

“Have I?” Diane swivels in her chair to face Sarah head-on. “I haven’t. And maybe this is how I pay. After all these years, this is how I pay: by losing my daughter for good.”

—–

“He was definitely talking,” Sabrina says as she stands in the ICU’s waiting area with Tim and Samantha. “And he was looking right at Claire. He saw her.”

“That’s great. It really is.” Tim glances behind himself, hoping for some sign of news coming through the swinging double doors, but there is none. At this late hour, the hospital is relatively quiet, with the waiting area in particular empty.

“Yeah, it is,” Samantha echoes, though her voice sounds distant and hollow.

Tim eyes her with concern. “Why don’t you sit down while we wait?”

“No. I’m fine.” She shakes her head. “I am.”

With Sabrina, a virtual stranger, in their midst, the rest of their debate goes unspoken, but Tim can feel the tension radiating off his daughter in thick waves. As much as it pains him to see her dealing with all this, he doesn’t want her to suppress her feelings because of Spencer, either.

“Guys,” Brent says as he turns a corner and heads urgently toward them. “What’s the latest?”

“The doctors are still checking him out.”

“Okay. I’ll give you guys your space once you’re allowed to go in and see him. Claire thought it might be good for someone from law enforcement to be here, in case he says anything about his fall.”

“That’s a good idea,” Tim agrees. “And it’ll be good for her to have you here.”

“I hope so,” Brent says.

“He’s definitely awake,” Claire announces as she bursts through the double doors. “And he’s conscious of what’s going on around him.”

“Can we see him?” Tim asks.

Claire crosses over to give Brent a quick hug. “Immediate family for now. And not for too long.”

“I’ll wait here for a while longer,” Sabrina says as she takes a seat. “I just want to know that everything is okay.”

“I’m sure Spencer will be happy to know that he has a friend here,” Claire says warmly.

She leads Tim and Samantha back through the doors and down the corridor to Spencer’s room. Once there, they find him lying in the slightly elevated bed, bleary gaze taking in the room around himself.

“Spencer, it’s Tim. Samantha is here, too.”

The young man rolls his head to the side and stares at them. For a moment, it is unclear whether he is truly processing their presence.

“Hi,” he finally says, his voice scratchy.

“Hey,” Tim says, bursting with both joy and relief. “It’s good to see you.”

“What happened?” Spencer asks.

“Like the doctor said, you had an accident,” Claire explains. “You fell down some stairs. You’re in the hospital right now. You’re safe.”

He takes that in seriously, turning it over in his sticky, cobweb-laden brain.

“Samantha,” he says.

She takes a step closer to the bed. “Yeah?”

“Hi.”

“Hi.” A genuine-looking smile appears on her face, which Tim clocks with a certain amount of gratitude. Perhaps they will all be able to work through the horrible news that came out tonight.

“Where’s Philip?” Spencer asks.

The three of them freeze.

“That girl Sabrina, she was here, wasn’t she? Does she know where Spencer is?”

“Spencer,” Tim begins softly, “Philip is…”

Claire places a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Do you need Philip for something?” Claire asks carefully.

“I just want to make sure he’s okay.” Spencer thinks about it for several seconds and lifts his head from the pillow as best he can. “With that psycho killer running around… he’s okay, isn’t he?”

Samantha steps slightly behind Tim, as if to shield herself from what’s happening.

“He doesn’t remember,” she whispers.

Claire angles her body so that she can quietly tell Tim and Samantha, “Don’t explain anything yet. Just stall. I’m going to go get the doctor.” She dips out of the room, only breaking into a jog once she is safely in the hallway.

END OF EPISODE 888

Will Spencer’s memory loss be Natalie’s saving grace?
Can Diane ever truly atone for what she did to Tim?
Will Tempest ever be able to win back Samantha’s trust?
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