Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time
– Good Riddance (Time of Your Life), Green Day

---

September 2012

San Diego, California: Cain Home

Oscar carefully closed the front door and tip toed towards the stairs. If he was very quiet, maybe Kim wouldn’t notice that he was home, and then—

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

He grimaced, then turned to find his stepmother leaning against the doorway between the foyer and the kitchen — a letter in home. Rats.

“I can explain,” Oscar said brightly. He dropped his backpack on the ground. “See, the thing is that Mrs. Perno is, like, really old, and maybe she thinks she heard me say that word, but, again, really old. She might have been on the Titanic —”

“Oscar Elliott Cain,” Kim began, narrowing her eyes but the universe saved him from what punishment she would have doled out. “Wait right there,” she said, stabbing a long finger his direction. She went over to the door and peered through the window that looked out over the porch.

Her entire body froze and she just stopped. She didn’t open the door, didn’t move. Oscar frowned. “Kim?”

“Oscar, go upstairs,” she said softly.

“What? Why—”

“Go,” Kim ordered, more loudly now. She turned to him, her eyes dark with something Oscar didn’t recognize. Scowling, he stomped up the stairs. He was nine years old! He wasn’t some little baby—

Oscar went around the corner of the hallway, pretended to close his bedroom door, then crawled back to the top step, staying out of sight.

“Can I help you?” he heard Kim say. He peeked out, frowning. Why was there a Marine guy there? His dad was a frickin’ Navy SEAL, not a Jarhead—

“Dr. Kimberly Nero?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“Ma’am—” A man in another type of uniform stepped forward. “We regret to inform you that your husband, Chief Andrew Cain, has deserted his base in the Kandahar province—”

“What?” Kim snapped, her voice sharp. “What does that mean? When did this happen?”

“Three days ago, Chief Cain disappeared from his post. Extensive search of the area suggests that he deserted—”

“That is bullshit! Drew would never—someone’s taken him—”

“We investigated that possibility, ma’am, but there’s no evidence. He’s being charged with desertion. Have you heard from him?”

“My dad wouldn’t walk off the job!” Oscar blurted out. Kim turned, her face pale.

“Oscar—”

“He’s a Navy SEAL! He’s a hero! He wouldn’t leave!”

“Ma’am, if you hear from him—”

“You’d better go,” Kim said, snatching the card from the man and shoving the door closed. She charged up the stairs, stopping Oscar as he started down. “Hey. Hey—wait—”

“My dad wouldn’t run away! He’s not a coward!”

“I know—” Kim wrapped her arms around him, rocking him back and forth as Oscar’s voice broke.

“He’s a hero—”

“I know, baby. We’ll find him. He’ll come home, and this will be just a bad dream.”

Friday, November 17, 2017

Safe House: Living Room

Spinelli dragged a hand through his hair and reached for the bottle of orange soda next on the table next to the sofa, frowning when he found it empty. “The problem,” he began, “is that it’s nearly impossible to track money in Russia.”

“I remember,” Jason said. He tossed Spinelli another soda. He’d gotten used to keeping his fridge stocked with orange soda for Spinelli’s visits, and when he’d grabbed a few things at the grocery store a week ago, it had been second nature to grab a six pack of his hacker’s favorite drink.

“And believe it or not, it’s gotten harder,” Spinelli told him. “Since the whole Russia rigged the election thing last year—” When Jason frowned, Spinelli shook his head. “Never mind. I’m gonna work on it, but we might want to consider whether or not the clinic and its records are the best use of my time.”

Jason walked over to the window that overlooked the block, rubbing his fist against his chest. “The clinic didn’t treat many normal patients that I could tell. It couldn’t have been self-sufficient. Whoever is bankrolling it is connected to all of this—”

“For sure. And I’ll keep on it, don’t worry, but—” Spinelli paused. “Are you even sure that anything else is happening? Didn’t Mr. Sir say something about maybe Andre being behind this?”

“If Maddox is behind this all, then fine. But you did the background on him, and you saw the WSB’s file. Where is he getting the funding? It’s about the money, Spinelli.”

“Fair point.” Spinelli shrugged. “I’ll keep on the clinic. I might need to visit or see if the WSB can get me some more information.” When Jason frowned at him, Spinelli explained, “I do some work for them every once in a while. Once I, ah, had a child with Maximista, her father thought it might be a good idea to make use of me.”

“Fine. Whatever you have to do. I need to know to make sure that this is over—that my family and I are safe.”

“Um, not that it matters to me because as Stone Cold goes, so goes my nation.” When Jason squinted, Spinelli shrugged. “I’m with you, I mean, but is it possible that all evidence points to this being over and you’re just…looking for, um, something to do?”

“What does that mean?” Jason demanded.

“Uh, nothing, nothing—” Spinelli made a face. “I know you’ve been in a crappy mood this week, and you’re not working for Mr. Sir again.” He got to his feet. “Maybe focusing on this is giving you something to do, but, uh, if there’s nothing to be found—”

“There’s something,” Jason insisted, even as Spinelli’s words stung. “And I’m doing things,” he said, almost defensively. “I—” He paused. He woke up, went to check on Spinelli, called Sonny for an update from the Spencers, and sometimes, if Elizabeth wasn’t working the nights, he went to the house for dinner with Jake. Other times, he went to Sonny and Carly’s. Or he found the dive bar Elizabeth had recommended where he sat in a corner and nursed a beer. Most of the time he did that alone, but it had been better when she’d joined him earlier that week.

“Are you, perchance, hoping that the Fair Samantha might change her mind?” Spinelli asked hesitantly. “That returning to the old domicile is still on the table?”

Jason stared at him, irritated. Why did everyone keep asking him about her? No, he wasn’t waiting around for Sam to change her mind. She’d chosen her side the night he’d returned, and in the two weeks since his identity had been established, she’d never come to talk to him—not even about Danny. And Jason didn’t know if he was supposed to go talk to her. Was he supposed to beg the woman who had been his wife for her attention?

And did he even want to at this point? Sam had refused to see who he was, and she didn’t look like she was going to let Jason anywhere near Danny. Why should he wait for her to change her mind? If she came to him now, it would feel forced. He didn’t want to be her obligation. He’d seen what that had done to Elizabeth all those years ago. He’d never put someone else through what Lucky Spencer had done to her.

“No,” Jason said. “And I’m working on the next step, Spinelli. It’s only been three weeks.”

“All right, all right. I—” Spinelli shrugged. “Want to make sure you’re good. So you…you are good, then?”

“Yes. I’m good,” Jason said to him, even if that didn’t entirely feel like an honest answer. He didn’t know what he was, and he probably wasn’t going to figure it out by waiting around.

It was probably time to make something happen.

General Hospital: Administrator’s Office

“Thanks for taking a minute to see me,” Elizabeth said, sitting down in the chair in front of Laura’s desk. “I wanted to update you on what’s going on with…everything.”

“I know that Lucky and Luke have been pulled into it,” Laura said. “Lucky mentioned it the last time he called me.” She sighed. “I’m not wild about the Spencers being dragged into another Cassadine war—I really wanted that to be over after Helena died, but maybe it will never be over.”

“Well, I wish it was better news,” Elizabeth said, “but Andre didn’t just experiment on Jason and Drew.” She paused. “He put the trigger in Jake’s head that led to the Chimera stuff at the Nurse’s Ball last year.”

“Andre—Andre put—” Laura blinked, shook her head. “I’m sorry—can you—can you say that again?”

“He was pulled into the project about a year before Jason and Drew were kidnapped — late 2011,” Elizabeth explained. “Shortly after I nearly drowned in the harbor.” She pressed her lips together. “I ended up with pneumonia and a high fever. So high that I thought I was having hallucinations.”

“Hallucinations,” Laura repeated. Her face grew still. “What did you think you were seeing?”

“The same thing I’d been seeing for months,” Elizabeth said softly. “Jake. But this time it was worse. I held him, I heard him call my name, someone took him away, and I couldn’t get to him. It was driving me crazy—” She closed her eyes. “I think it literally did drive me crazy.”

“Someone took him away?” her former mother-in-law’s mouth tightened. “Oh, God—”

“I was rescued by Ewen Keenan who ended up as a psychiatrist at Shadybrooke. We became friends and later we dated,” Elizabeth continued. “Then I learned that he was helping Jerry Jacks poison the town. He kidnapped me, and Jason killed him saving my life. Ewen also was helping Jerry keep Robin hostage, but Jerry wasn’t working alone.”

“No, he was working with Faison and Helena which means this Ewen was, too. Oh, Elizabeth—”

“The hallucination was real,” Elizabeth said. “He took me to Spoon Island to the lab where Jason eventually ended up, and I saw Jake. Helena made sure of it. Then he dumped me on the beach where Spinelli found me.” She dragged in a shuddering breath. “When I woke up in the hospital, I could still hear his voice, still feel his arms around my neck, and I tried to convince Monica and the doctors—Jason—anyone around me that Jake was alive and we needed to go get him.”

“Oh, baby—” Laura got out of her chair and walked around the desk to sit in the other chair next to Elizabeth. She reached for Elizabeth’s hands. “And they didn’t believe you.”

“No. And I tried to let it go. I couldn’t. I kept seeing Jake, and I checked myself into Shadybrooke, but I couldn’t ever get rid of this idea that I had let my son down. That I had let him die. And now—to know that I saw him—to know that it was true—” Her shoulders trembled but Elizabeth swallowed another gasping breath. “It’s so stupid to get to upset now. Jake is okay. He’s in school, and he’s alive. He’s perfect—”

“Grief is a funny thing,” Laura murmured. “I once lost a son and I thought I would drown in the pain. I nearly let it consume me. I don’t know how I would have made it longer than a year, Elizabeth, much less four. Getting Lucky back didn’t change things. Getting Jake back will never erase the time you lost or the way that it felt.”

“I know. I just—I told Carly the same thing a few weeks ago. I lived it, and I always carried the guilt of knowing I could have done more to save my baby—but it feels different now,” Elizabeth said, trying to explain. “Sharper. And I also—” She hesitated. “I also find myself doubting things I thought I knew. People.”

“People,” Laura repeated. She sat back, sighed. “You wonder know if Nikolas knew.”

“I always wondered,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I couldn’t bring myself to ask him. Couldn’t admit that I had so little faith in him, but after what happened with Jake Doe—telling me something that he then nearly killed Hayden to keep secret? Did he know Jake Doe was really Drew? And if he kept Stavros from us for so long, could he have kept Jake a secret? How could Helena have had the run of Spoon Island without Nikolas knowing she was doing something?”

“Helena always had her ways, Elizabeth, but why would Nikolas keep the truth from you?” Laura asked. “Why would he lie about Jake Doe?”

“The timing,” Elizabeth said softly. “It never made sense to me why Helena would simply return Jake after all that time. Because she was dying? She wanted to make amends? I don’t believe it. She sent Jake home for a reason. Maybe she wasn’t expecting to die just then or—”

“Maybe the Chimera was her revenge,” Laura said. “Nikolas wouldn’t have been a part of that—he couldn’t. He was already—” She took a deep breath. “He was already gone.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Laura. I shouldn’t—”

“I won’t ignore that Nikolas made mistakes at the end,” Laura cut in. “That he wasn’t always innocent and he could be cruel. I’m not even saying you’re wrong to doubt him. I just don’t see how it all folds together.” She made a face, sitting back, “But maybe that’s been the problem all along. We keep looking for this to make some sort of sense and we’re forgetting the number one rule when you deal with the Cassadines.”

“Anything is possible.”

Metro Court: Restaurant

Michael shifted in his seat and perused the lunch special menu again with a grimace. “Does anything look good?”

“I don’t know,” Nelle said with a shrug, laying her own menu on the table. “It all looks good to me. Maybe I’ll do the shrimp.” She tilted her head. “You seem distracted. We could have canceled lunch—”

“No, I canceled yesterday,” Michael muttered. He tossed the menu on top of Nelle’s and reached for the glass of water. “I’m sorry. I need to tell my parents at some point we’re having dinner with my grandmother next week, and I keep procrastinating.”

“You know Carly is gonna hit the roof no matter when you tell her, so what’s the point of waiting?” Nelle sipped her wine. “What’s her damage anyway? We’re going to dessert anyway, and plenty of people switch back and forth with families. I mean, why is she like this?”

Michael frowned at her. “You know why she’s like this. It’s the same reason she’s always gotten angry when I spend time with the Quartermaines. She’s been like this my whole life. They made threats when I was kid to take me away from her—and don’t start, that doesn’t mean I would have been better off.”

“Uh, I didn’t even say anything,” Nelle said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re over eighteen now. Why the hell is this still a thing?”

“Because it’s always a thing with my mother. She likes everyone where she can see them, and gets very cranky when we do our own thing. Normally, I can just figure a way around her, but lately—” Michael shook his head. “It’s been harder. Since things blew up about my dad last week—I’m trying to give her a break because of Morgan, but—”

“So Carly gets a get out of jail free card forever because of Morgan?” Nelle asked skeptically. “Like, I get why she doesn’t like me. I dug my own grave with your parents. But it feels like she’s been picking a lot of fights lately.”

They paused their conversation while a waiter came to take their orders, then Nelle broke apart a piece of bread. “I’m just trying to understand your mom,” Nelle told him. “So that I can, like, figure out how to make her…well, it’s probably out of the question for her to like me, but it might be nice for you if we could co-exist, you know?”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t suck if that happened,” Michael said dryly.

“So, I guess I’m trying to understand why anyone would put up with someone like your mother as a friend. This Jason guy just came back a hot minute ago, right? And, man, talk about drama! His wife is married to the long-lost brother who assumed his identity and was raising his kids while his other baby mama was shacking up with the serial killer who, like, stalked him.” Nelle’s eyes were wide. “And your mom has issues with him having dinner with his kid and Thanksgiving with his mom?”

Michael sighed. He couldn’t explain his mother. No one could. “Look—”

“I know I don’t have a leg to stand on for the way I acted last year,” Nelle said, “but you know I’m not crazy about this. Your mom is selfish. Like criminally self-absorbed in a way that makes the Kardashians look good.”

Michael stared at his water, wishing it was wine. “That’s not news to me,” he said. “How does that help you get along with my mom?”

“Well, it suggests that maybe I’m insane for thinking I ever could.” She cleared her throat. “But she just stepped off the elevator, so we should stop talking about her because she has ears like a fricking bat.”

“Good point.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, how’s work? How’s Nina?”

“Annoying. She said Valentin is being a pain these days. Always short with her, never coming home or calling—” Nelle shrugged. “Maybe marriages of convenience really are a bad idea. I asked her for a raise because my building is going co-op, and she looked like at me like I was insane.”

Michael frowned. “Your building is going co-op? You didn’t say anything. When is that happening?”

“January, I think, but I have until February to decide whether I want to buy in or not. My savings aren’t great since I haven’t been at Crimson long.” Nelle shrugged. “I’ll probably start looking somewhere else—”

“What’s this, I hear?” Carly said brightly as she approached their table. “Moving? That’s a shame. How far away?”

Nelle pressed her lips together, looked at Michael, then looked down at her plate. “I’m not moving yet,” she said. “My building is going co-op, and I was telling Michael I need to start looking since I can’t afford a down payment and mortgage right now—”

“Really?” Carly snorted. “More like you were playing the ‘woes me’ card and hoping that Michael would jump in with a loan—” She turned to glare at Michael. “Well? Wasn’t she?”

Michael closed his eyes. “No. She wasn’t. Mom, we’re trying to have lunch here—”

“Well, the only reason she’s not going to do it now,” Carly bit out, “is because I caught her—”

“You know, maybe I’ll just skip lunch and go back to work,” Nelle said, starting to stand up. Michael held out a hand.

“No, don’t. Just wait—'” Michael got to his feet and met his mother’s defiant expression. “You have reasons for the way you feel about Nelle. And we both get it. Nelle doesn’t expect you to like her. Or even respect her.”

“Good, because it will never happen,” Carly retorted.

“But I am a paying customer in this restaurant,” Michael said, patiently, “and I have a right to eat here without being harassed. And that’s what you’re doing, Mom. You came up and started attacking us—”

“I wasn’t attacking you—” Carly narrowed her eyes. “You always take her side—”

“There’s not—” Michael sighed. “There’s no point in pretending there’s ever going to be a good time,” he told Nelle before looking at at his mother. “I’m having Thanksgiving dinner at the Quartermaines this year. Jason and I are both coming to Greystone for dessert. With Nelle, Elizabeth, and her boys.”

Carly hissed. “Over my dead body—”

“I can go home after dinner,” Nelle volunteered. She bit her lip. “I mean, I’ll just skip dessert—”

“Well, Mom?” Michael said, lifting a brow. “How’s that for a compromise?”

“Jason didn’t tell me he was inviting Elizabeth—”

“Because he’s tired of listening to your crap about her. Just like I am. I’m willing to swallow Nelle not being invited,” Michael told his mother, “because she’s earned that, but I am done watching you treat Jason and his family like this—”

Carly’s nostrils flared. “She is not his—”

“We’re leaving,” he said to Nelle, his tone clipped. “Let’s go. We’ll get something at Kelly’s or the taco truck outside. Anywhere but here.”

“Michael, wait—”

But Michael and Nelle were already heading to the elevators, leaving Carly standing by the table.  Alone.

Aurora Media: Drew’s Office

“Hey, man.” Curtis dumped a folder on the table and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. “How’s corporate life?”

“Interesting,” Drew admitted. “More than I thought it would be, but I guess maybe part of me does kind of remember my life before. Or—” He hesitated. “You know it’s easier now that I don’t have to pretend I liked numbers and coffee.”

“I hear that.” Curtis sipped the coffee. “But you doing okay, otherwise? It’s been a few weeks now.”

Drew looked down into his own coffee, thinking over the question. “I’m doing the best I can,” he said finally. “The memories—it’s messing me up,” he admitted. “I wake up, I tell myself I’m Drew Cain, but I don’t always feel that way. I don’t feel like Jason Morgan either.” He leaned against his desk. “Mostly, I’m just putting one foot in front the other.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Curtis went over to the folder, flipped it open. “Like I said before, you were found at a fire station. It was in Poughkeepsie, three hundred miles from Rochester where the false birth certificate stated you’d been born. The police there did an investigation, trying to figure out how you got there or who left you since the name on the surrender form was false. I’m hoping they were able to see that the birth records were as false as the surrender form. I’m trying to get those records, but the state is being a bitch about it. I got a couple of things working behind the scenes, but I also haven’t had a lot of luck with the people who were around back then.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I didn’t call Monica because I figure she’s not gonna wanna rehash all of that, and her story is pretty much on the record, right? When this twin stuff came out back when you thought it was Franco, she said they never knew about a twin.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it shook out. At least, that’s the memory of it. What about Betsy Frank or Heather?”

“Can’t find Betsy,” Curtis replied. “Franco moved her a couple of weeks ago after his art show. I thought tracking her down might rile him up, and I know some things went down when all this blew up. I don’t know why Elizabeth broke up with him, but I’m guessing it means Franco isn’t gonna tell us anything without a fight.”

“No, probably not.” Drew hesitated. “Leave Betsy out of it for now. She wouldn’t tell us the truth anyway.”

“Neither would Heather Webber—even if I could get in to see her,” Curtis added. “But it’s buttoned up tight. Family only. We could try to get Elizabeth’s brother up here—”

“Oh, man, I’m not asking Steven to deal with this—he doesn’t know even know me. And I know he hates his mother.” Drew winced. “Who’s left?”

“I talked to Scott Baldwin, and he shut me down which tells me there’s something there. But it also might be shame or guilt. Case report says Susan was blackmailing the Quartermaines over Lila’s first marriage, and the first husband killed her to protect Lila. Susan only does that because Scott allegedly embezzled from Jason’s trust fund.”

“What did he say when you told him about the original birth certificate? That Susan must have known about me?”

“Never got that far. But I’m still saying there’s no way Susan has her hand on a second million dollar trust fund and waits to play the card.” Curtis sighed. “I’m sorry, man. But unless one of these people gives a little, I’m not sure we’re gonna know how much Susan knew and when she knew it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s an old case, and most of the people are dead or crazy.” Drew paused. “I just wish I knew how Victor knew there were two of us. He’s the only one who seemed to know, but there’s no way he just stumbled on this information. Why was he looking?”

“I’ll keep digging, but I can’t make any promises.”

Kelly’s: Diner

“Yeah, but are you even going to like hospital admin?” Molly asked Kristina. “Maybe you should have gone to law school or something. This sounds boring.”

“I could use boring.” Kristina shrugged, looked at Sam. “What do you think? You agree that Laura Spencer was insane for offering me this internship in January?”

“I worked in hospital administration for a very long three weeks,” Sam said. “It was literally the most boring job I ever had.” She furrowed her brow. “Almost as boring as the two weeks I spent as a clerk at the PCPD.”

“Oh, I remember that,” Kristina said. “That was right before you went to the Metro Court and started the hostage crisis.”

Sam scowled. “I didn’t—”

“That’s not fair,” Molly said. “How was Sam supposed to know that by pressing the silent alarm a bunch of people would die?” She nodded at Sam, encouragingly. “I got you.”

“That’s not much of a defense,” Sam muttered, wiggling in her chair. “And most people think I helped save everybody,” she told her sister. “Remember? I got that television show—”

“I thought Amelia gave you the show because she wanted revenge on you?” Kristinsa said, fluttering her lashes.

“And I thought we weren’t going to fight today,” Sam retorted. She knew Kristina was just mad because Sam hadn’t found the time to tell Molly yet about the affair—

Well, how exactly did a person start that conversation anyway?

“Uh, how are we fighting? I’m just stating facts.” Kristina reached for her milkshake. “There’s a reason Everyday Heroes didn’t get a second season. And besides, everyone knows if you hadn’t pulled the silent alarm, the robbers would have just left. When I worked at the bank—”

“You didn’t even finish the training,” Molly cut in, but Kristina ignored her.

“They specifically told us not to mess with a robbery. Like — things are not worth your life. So take the crap and go.”

“And why exactly is this coming up right now?” Sam asked. “Have you been holding this whole grudge against me for the hostage crisis the whole time? You were barely old enough to remember it—”

“Uh, not true. It was only ten years ago, and I remember things that happen when I was twelve. Actually, the hotel blew up and Mr. Craig got away, plus like three people died, so like, did anyone really save the day?”

“What exactly crawled up your ass and died today?” Molly asked Kristina. “Because now this does sounds like fighting.”

“I’m just wondering if maybe we let our sister get away with too much crap, and it’s our job to call her out,” Kristina said. “I mean, it’s not like you’ll fix things yourself. You never do. Even when you promise.”

Molly blinked, look back and forth between her sisters. “What is she talking about?” she asked Sam.

“Nothing.” Sam took a deep breath. “Nothing. Krissy—” She shook her head. “Never mind. Can we please change the subject?”

Kristina opened her mouth, but was distracted when the door to Kelly’s opened and Cameron walked past. “Hey, Cam.”

“Hey.” Cam stopped by their table, a bit awkwardly, avoiding Sam’s eyes. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just having dinner with my sisters.” Kristina paused. “I heard you and your brothers are coming over to my dad’s for dessert next week. I’m doing dinner with my mom, but I’ll be at Dad’s later.”

“Yeah, we’re at the Qs this year,” Cameron said. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I dunno if we’re all going to Greystone. Jason might just take Jake—”

“No, Sonny’s usually cool about that stuff,” Molly said with a shake of her head. “He invited me and TJ to come with Krissy, but we have to make an appearance at the commissioner’s this year.”

“Yeah, you know you’re always welcome.” Kristina looked at Sam. “Are you and Drew coming to our place or the Qs?”

Sam stared at her sister. “No,” she said, through clenched teeth. “No, we’re going to your house. For dessert, too. You know that.”

“Oh, well—”

“Hey—” Trina came out of the kitchen with a large bag. “I got your order,” she said, handing it to Cameron. “Uh, which other insane person at your house is getting pastrami on rye? Because that is nasty. I saw there are two orders of it—”

“It’s for—” Cameron paused, then without thinking, looked briefly at Sam before focusing on Trina again.  “It’s for Jason,” he said, finally. “He eats it, too. I, uh, gotta go. Mom’s in the car and she’s trying to keep Aiden from murdering Jake—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Cameron left the diner and Trina went back into the kitchen while Sam stared down at her plate.

“It’s nice,” Kristina said, “that Jason has Elizabeth and her boys to support him, you know? It keeps Franco out of their lives, and I remember Dad saying it was nice how much time Jason was getting to spend with Jake.”

“You,” Molly said, “are as subtle as a trainwreck.” She looked away from Kristina to Sam, rolling her eyes. “Sam, you know it doesn’t mean anything. He’s just having dinner—”

“I am married to Drew,” Sam said, even as her stomach rolled. Why had it stung to learn that Jason would be at the Webber house for dinner or that Jason was bringing Elizabeth and the boys over for dessert — like they were a family?

She had her family. She’d made her choice.

“Yeah, but—”

“I told you,” Kristina said, smugly. “If you pick Drew now, you better be sure. Because, uh, it definitely looks like Jason isn’t waiting around.”

“Krissy—” Molly began.

“And if you were wondering,” Kristina continued as Sam narrowed her eyes, “how long I was going to wait to tell her—”

“Kristina—”

Molly frowned. “Tell me what?”

“Should you tell her or should she find out the way I did? On YouTube?”

“YouTube?” Molly scowled. “What is going on?”

Kristina got to her feet, swung her coat on. “Molly, whatever you do, don’t search Sam’s name and look for her testimony from the Alcazar murder trial.”

Molly squinted as Kristina sauntered out of the diner, then looked at Sam. “Sam?”

Sam closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I can explain.”

Aurora Media: Reception

Drew stepped out of his office and closed the door, planning to head home finally when he turned to see Spinelli stepping into the empty office. The two of them stared at one another for a long moment before Spinelli spoke.

“Uh, hey. I was hoping you might have a minute, but—”

“No, you’re—” Drew took a second to gather his thoughts. “It’s fine. I…heard you were back in town. I’m not surprised.”

“I would have come to see you sooner,” Spinelli said, wrinkling his nose, “but I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t. Because I like you. And this sucks. But I also—”

“Never really felt the connection we were supposed to have,” Drew finished. “Yeah, I guess now that we all know the truth, we can admit that—”

“Actually, I was gonna say that I feel weird because I did feel connected to you. But maybe it’s because you’re a good guy. Like your brother. Most people don’t get that about Jason, y’know?” He shrugged. “But I always did. So I felt guilty for not seeing it, for being so shocked—then I came back and saw him—” Spinelli hesitated. “You’re a good guy, Drew. I want to help you both make sure that who ever did this to you pays.”

“I know you’re helping Jason with the clinic—”

“But I have connections with the WSB,” Spinelli interrupted. “Anna and Robert are okay, but they don’t run the show. I know enough to say I don’t trust the WSB. And neither should you.”

← Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Four →