As you turn to your mind,
And your thoughts they rewind,
To old happenings and things that are done,
You can’t find what’s passed,
Make that happiness last,
Seeing from those eyes what you become,
What you become
– Haunt, Bastille

---

Early 2011 in St. Petersburg, Russia

Cathedral of St. Andrew the First-Called

Victor sat next to the veiled woman in the last row of pews. “At least we’re not blaspheming this time with Catholics and candles.”

“You always set too much store in such things,” Helena murmured. “Religion is only useful when you can wield it against someone. It’s for the weak-minded.”

“Right.” Never one to take chances, Victor slid just a few inches away from her in case lightning struck — but Helena Cassadine seemed to be outside the purview of even God himself. “You said you had some thoughts as to how we could begin our partnership?”

“Jason Morgan,” Helena said. “Are you familiar with him?”

“Not entirely, no,” Victor admitted. “We don’t deal with the mob often in the research department, but I know the name. He was a Quartermaine once, was he not?”

“Yes. He’s also the father of Elizabeth’s middle son.” Helena’s lips curved. “The one everyone is pretending belongs to Lucky. There’s a paternity test on file, and I’ve made it my business to know everything about her.”

“And what this has what to do with me?”

“I want to know everything about him, and no one goes after the details like you do, my dearest.” Helena paused. “Didn’t your brother have something to do with the Quartermaines?”

“Tony was having an affair with one of the nieces,” Victor said. “Alexandra, I believe. She died with him.”

“And?”

“You do remember that she and both my brothers died just around the time I was arrested and thrown into prison for years? You expect me to remember conversations I had more than decades ago?”

“You never forget anything,” Helena said flatly.

“Helena, I’m happy to investigate Jason Morgan, but to what purpose?”

“I thought about simply killing him,” Helena said. “Taking him and one or two of the boys along with him. The eldest can be quite annoying, and I know she favors the middle child—Jason’s son. But I want her to suffer, Victor.”

“Yes, well, I’m aware of that—”

“I want to know everything. Where he came from, where his mother came from. I want to know all his secrets,” Helena snapped, her voice growing fervent. “I want to know how to break him so that I can destroy her. You said you would help me.”

“And I will,” Victor said smoothly, “but the time will come when I ask for you something in return, darling, and you would do best to remember that I am not a man whom you want to cross.”

Friday, October 27, 2017

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Cameron set a soda down in front of his brother and looked at Joss with worry etched into his light blue eyes. “It was weird, Joss. Things were super normal, and then, BAM! Jake sees his dad’s old face.”

Joss wrinkled her nose. “And no one else saw this guy?”

“Is Jake sick again?” Aiden asked. “Is that why Mommy took him to the hospital?”

Cameron hesitated, studied his youngest brother, and considered lying. They’d been able to get away with not telling Aiden a lot last spring when Jake had nearly killed their entire family at the Nurse’s Ball under the influence of Helena Cassadine’s mind control, but he was almost a year older now. He was seven.

Cameron had known a lot about the world when he was seven—and he’d always known when adults were lying to him.

“We don’t know,” Cameron said finally. “Mom is going to take care of things. She always does.” He looked at Joss.

She nodded. “That’s right, Aiden. Don’t worry about Jake. Your mom’s got this handled, and if she needs any help, Uncle Jason will be there. We all will.”

“Trina, too?” Aiden asked with a sweet smile. “I like Trina. She gave me extra chocolate in my milkshake.”

Joss made a face, but then Cameron shot her a dirty look. “Yeah, yeah, and Trina.” She checked the clock on her phone. “Speaking of Oscar, his mom finally agreed to let him come over tonight. She’s so weird.”

“Protective,” Cameron corrected. He glanced back when the front door to the diner swung open, and Trina Robinson sauntered out, a tray in her hands. “You got it?”

“I can do this in my sleep,” Trina said. She set Aiden’s burger and fries down, then gave Cameron his pastrami on rye with a disgusted look. “I hate the smell of that—”

“You’re missing out—”

“And a side of fries for you,” Trina muttered as she set Joss’s plate down with a clunk. “Anything else?”

“Nah, you coming tonight?” Cameron asked before Joss could say something rude. “Oscar finally got the okay—”

“Depends. My mom wants to know if your mom’s creepy ass boyfriend is gonna be hanging around.” Trina cocked out a hip. “Mom says that Elizabeth Webber has god awful taste in men, but this one takes the whole cake—”

“We get it, Trina,” Joss cut in with a roll of her eyes.

“Was anyone talking to you?”

“Are you going to fight again?” Aiden asked, interested. “Because I need someone to teach me how to hit a girl without actually hitting a girl.”

The two mortal enemies switched their attention to the youngest Webber boy. “Why do you need to know how to hit a girl?” Trina asked. She made a face. “Is Charlotte messing with you again?”

“Cam says I gotta suck it up because maybe one day we won’t be in the same town,” Aiden said, “but I’m seven. That might take a while.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Joss said, sending Trina a glare out of the side of her eyes. “We can declare a truce long enough to tell him about that time I tripped you and got away with it—”

“Or when I accidentally dyed your hair blue,” Trina said sweetly.

Cameron furrowed his brow. “This doesn’t sound like a good way to keep the peace. Anyway, I don’t know about Franco, Trina. Mom said she’d ask him to go somewhere else, but he didn’t seem to commit one way or the other.”

Trina sighed. “Well, I can try to lie to Mom, but if she catches me, I’m blaming you.” She nodded at Aiden. “Keep your head up, babe. Me and Joss have been torturing each other since kindergarten, and we get away with a lot of accidents.” She flashed Joss a rare grin, and the blonde shot one back at her. “Keeps life interesting.” She leaned over to kiss Cam’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Cemetery

He had visited this spot so many times after Jake died that Jason thought he’d created a path in the grass from the stone path to his grave.

One of the few acts he and Elizabeth had performed together as parents was watch the stone be installed, nearly two months after that terrible day in March. He could remember the way her hands had trembled, the way her skin had looked like marble.

She had stared at the words inscribed on the stone and had just closed her eyes. She hadn’t cried, hadn’t fallen to the ground. Had only closed her eyes.

Jacob Martin Webber
May 4, 2007 – March 21, 2011
Beloved son and brother

The stone had been delivered the day after Jake would have turned four, and it had a little inset picture of Jake — a smiling photo of him during his last Christmas, with a wide grin that matched his mother’s. Elizabeth had set Jake’s favorite toy on the ground —a little yellow motorcycle Jason had given Cameron the year he and Elizabeth had been together. Cameron had handed it down to his younger brother.

Until that night in October 2012, Jason had gone to the cemetery every few weeks just to remind himself of what he’d lost—the son he’d been too afraid to love and to hold close. With Jake’s death, Jason had given up any dream of ever really being a father again.

He could have walked to this grave in his sleep.

But now the stone was gone.

It was a punch to the gut, and Jason stood there for a long moment, not sure how to process it. If he could believe his own eyes. He knew what he had seen in the park — knew that Elizabeth had called the boy Jake, but his brain had refused to accept it.

He didn’t deserve to have that miracle. His son would never turn four. It was a fact, a deep scar on Jason’s soul that would never fade —

But the boy in the park had looked like Jake. Had his name. Had spoken to his brothers like he was part of them. And Elizabeth had said—she’d said she wished he was quiet like his father.

Like Jason.

Jason exhaled slowly. He’d been there the night the machines had been turned off. He had seen Lucky tell Elizabeth it was over—he’d watched over Joss after that night, feeling like a part of his son was still in the world—that keeping her alive and safe would be like finally taking care of Jake—

How was this possible?

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to call you.”

Jason blinked at the vaguely familiar voice and turned to look at the familiar slim blonde who had stepped up to him, a hesitant smile, and the half-mask still covering her face. The woman who had distracted the doctors and helped him escape from the clinic. He was glad to see that she’d been able to get away, too. He’d worried about her since then—had she been punished for helping him?

“You never told me your name at the clinic,” the woman said. “My name is Ava. Ava Jerome.” She waited, then frowned when he said nothing. “You don’t know it?”

“Yours? No.” And Jason wasn’t going to tell her his. Not yet. Not when he didn’t know what was going on or who he could trust.

“Oh. Well, I’m so glad you’re all right. I didn’t think you’d come to Port Charles. I mean, I knew you were from here—”

“I have…” He looked back at the space, swallowing hard. “I have family here. Do you…do you know what happened to the stone that was here?”

Ava nodded. Stepped up beside him. “You must not have been in touch with anyone here for a long time if you didn’t know about Jake Webber. He’s been back for just over two years now, I think.

“Back,” Jason repeated. He focused on Ava. “So—he’s alive? How? There was an accident—”

“I’m not close to the family.” Her lips pursed. “Not really. But I did know Nikolas Cassadine a little. He died last year,” she added as an afterthought. “His grandmother kidnapped Jake, thinking he was Lucky Spencer’s son. I can only imagine the relief Elizabeth felt when Luke and Lucky brought him home.”

“He’s alive,” Jason repeated, letting it sink in. Alive. “He’s okay.”

Ava furrowed her brow. “So you did know him?”

“I—” He paused, then nodded. “Yes.” Jason rubbed his chest. “His mother and I—”

“You were friends?”

Friends. It was the best word to describe it, so Jason nodded. “Yeah. Friends. For a long time.”

“If you didn’t know little Jake came home—” Ava sighed, “and you know Elizabeth, then you probably know Sonny and Carly.”

Jason’s head whipped back to face her. “What about them? Are they okay?”

“Alive, yes,” Ava told him. “But they had a loss of their own.” She gestured at a nearby stone. “Their son died last year.”

Their son—Michael? Morgan? Jason’s heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. He strode across the patch of grass, away from the empty plot where Jake had never rested until he found it—

In Loving Memory 
Morgan Stone Corinthos
October 24, 1994 – October 7, 2016

 It was like a nightmare seeing that name on a stone. Jason had held Morgan as a baby, had watched him grow up — and now he was dead. Gone forever.

“How?” Jason choked out.

“A car bomb,” Ava murmured, staring at the grave. “He stole a car meant for someone else. He and my daughter were dating. It’s—” She pressed two fingers to her lips. “It shouldn’t have happened. He needed a little help, but he was a sweet boy. I’m so sorry—” She blinked at him. “You never did tell me your name.”

Jason knelt down, ignoring the question. “He needed help?” he echoed.

“He had bipolar disorder, like Sonny,” Ava said. “He was trying to handle it, but he needed more help than Kiki could give him. More than anyone could. We—we all made mistakes in handling it, and then before we could—” Her voice faltered. “Before we could fix it, he was gone.”

Jason bowed his head. God, Carly must have nearly lost her mind, and Sonny—how had they been able to get through it?

“I’m sure it was a comfort that Jason Morgan came home. That his memories were back by then,” Ava continued. “I’m not sure Carly could have managed without him.”

Jason stared at her, squinting. Jason Morgan came home. The words slipped and slid around his mind, but they didn’t make sense. Unless—

“Jason Morgan,” Jason repeated as he got to his feet and met Ava’s eyes. “Got his memories back?”

“Oh, my, you really have been gone for a while. Jason was thought dead after he went off a pier in—” Ava tapped her fingers. “I’m not sure — it was almost a year before I moved here, and that was in the spring of 2013. Anyway, there was this mysterious stranger in the ER about three years ago. He’d been hit by a car and had to have surgery on his face. He looked completely different, and with amnesia—” Ava shrugged. “He called himself Jake Doe for a while, and I guess that makes sense,” she continued. “He must have remembered part of his past because he grew quite close to Elizabeth, in fact, even before they knew the truth. They nearly married. But the truth came out, so he left her and went back to Sam.”

Jason stared at her. “Jason Morgan was living here for a year with no identity,” he said slowly, “then remembered?”

“No, I think there was more to it—there were DNA tests and whatnot—” She laughed, slightly nervously. “Listen to me go on like this. All this gossip!”

Jason stared down again at the grave, unsure what to think, how to process. Sam had married a man calling himself Jason Morgan. Elizabeth had nearly married the same man. The man at the penthouse—he wasn’t someone Sam had moved on with.

He was someone she thought was him. And if Ava was telling the truth, everyone thought this other man was Jason. Sonny, Carly, Elizabeth.

“I can understand if you don’t want to tell me who you are,” Ava continued. “Particularly if you’re a friend to Sonny or Carly. They are not my biggest fans,” she admitted. “They have…some good reasons for that,” she added, “but I wish we got along better. Sonny and I share a daughter—” She pressed her lips together, then reached into her pocket for her wallet. She pulled out a card. “If you need anything—”

Jason blinked at her then reached for the card slowly. Ava Jerome, Jerome Galleries, with a number and an address. “Thank you.”

“Well—” Ava cleared her throat. “I need to be going. I have a party at the hotel tonight. Actually, it’s for Jason and Sam. They just bought her father’s media company and renamed it. They’re doing a relaunch—” She hesitated. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” Jason said, faintly. “But thank you.” He listened to her footsteps as she returned to the pathway and walked away.

He needed to get to Sonny and find out what the hell was going on. And if someone was here, living his life, pretending to be him—if everyone had accepted it—

Jason would need to find a way to prove to Sonny who he was. His face, his voice, his memories might not be enough. He needed something that would prove that he was the real Jason Morgan. Something that no one but he and Sonny knew.

General Hospital: Andre Maddox’s Office

Andre stared at the three missed calls from Valentin Cassadine’s personal number, then exhaled slowly and set his phone on his desk.

Valentin hadn’t contacted him since the Chimera incident, and Andre had hoped that they’d all moved on. The experiment was over. Jason Morgan would rot away in a medically induced coma until his body simply gave out, and Drew Cain would continue to thrive in his new life, never knowing he’d ever had another one.

Memories could be mapped and transferred. Some semblance of the old life could be resurrected. The research was completed. Andre could take the information and figure out the next step.

Valentin contacting him — that was not a good sign.

“Andre?”

A hesitant voice and light knock on his open door broke into his thoughts. Andre looked up and stared blindly for a moment at Elizabeth Webber and her son, Jake.

Jake. Another reminder he wanted to forget.

He pasted a smile on his face and rose to his feet. “Elizabeth, Jake. I wasn’t expecting you today—”

“Mom thinks I’m going crazy again,” the blond said darkly. He twisted his head to look at his mother, a scowl etched into his features. “I’m not crazy. I saw him.”

“I know, baby.” Elizabeth tucked a piece of his hair out of his eyes. She looked at Andre. “Jake had…”

“I saw someone who looked like my dad, and everyone freaked out,” Jake said. He shrugged off his mother’s hands and stalked towards the chair, sitting down. He dropped his backpack on the ground. “It’s not like before, Mom. I heard voices before. I felt like….urges to do stuff. I don’t have any of that.”

With a sour taste in his mouth, Andre sat down. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?” he asked, his mind racing, trying to piece things together. He’d seen a man who looked like his dad? That wouldn’t make sense — Drew Cain had had facial reconstruction surgery. No one should look like him —

“We were in the park,” Jake said, flatly. “Aiden had this baseball from school, and he was playing with it while we were talking. It rolled away, and I went to get it. It was behind a hedge, and there was this guy. He was just standing there.”

“He was already there?” Elizabeth repeated. “Like waiting for you?”

“I don’t know, maybe he was listening, or maybe he was walking past.” Jake jerked a shoulder, then stared at his shoes. “I looked at him. He looked at me. And he—he looked like Dad. But not Dad now.”

A chill slivered down Andre’s spine as he swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

“Like before. Like the pictures. And kind of how I remember him. I do remember him a little,” Jake told his mother when she blinked at him. “Sort of. There are pictures at Grandma Monica’s, and you’ve got pictures. With me and Cam. Aunt Emily. There are lots of pictures—”

Elizabeth dug through her purse and took out her wallet. She drew out a photograph and handed it to Andre, who reluctantly accepted it. It was an old photo—small and clearly from a traditional camera, not a phone. Elizabeth and Jason were posed with a bride and groom, Elizabeth in a deep red dress, smiling next to a man Andre knew was Nikolas Cassadine, and Jason Morgan next to the bride.

“That’s his sister’s wedding. I caught the bouquet,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Jason caught the garter. It’s—it’s really old,” she admitted. “From 2004. But—”

“Is this the man you saw?” Andre said, handing the photo to Jake, his heart pounding as he awaited the answer. Elizabeth had aged gracefully—barely any lines had been added in the thirteen years since, but Jason was older than her, and he hoped that it was different enough—

“I don’t know,” Jake said after a moment. “Dad looks really young here. The guy in the park was wearing a hat. But I saw his eyes. They’re like mine, Mom. You always said—”

“But maybe it was just someone who looked like your dad did then,” Elizabeth said. She rummaged in her wallet. “I used to have another one,” she muttered. “A newer one. From—” She tugged out another photo. “Here—” She handed it directly to Jake. “That’s a picture of you and Cameron with Jason. You were about fifteen months old.”

“Yeah, this looks more like the guy,” Jake said. “His hair was darker like this one,” he continued, looking at Andre. “Mom, I know it’s weird. I know it doesn’t sound right, but I think it really was someone who looked like Dad did before the accident.”

Elizabeth scrubbed her hand over her face, took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, Jake.” She paused. “You know, I saw Felix at the nurse’s station. Can you go sit with him a minute?”

“So you and Dr. Maddox can talk about how I’m crazy again? Forget it.” Jake tossed both pictures on the desk, and Andre slid them closer, looking at the second photograph.

It was easy for him to forget that Jason Morgan had been someone before the night Cesar Faison had shot him and shoved his body into the water. He’d been unconscious from the moment Andre had met him. When he’d come to Port Charles the year before and come face to face with Drew Cain—it still hadn’t fazed him. Drew was an experiment—a shell whose memories weren’t his own.

But there was something about looking at these photographs of Jason Morgan before it had all started. At photos of Jason with his son. Was the man in the park Jason Morgan? Coming face to face with the son he’d thought to be dead?

Had Jason Morgan escaped from wherever Valentin had been holding him? Was that why the phone calls were happening?

“Jake—” Elizabeth began. “You know—”

“I know, I know. You’ll tell me what you can when you can. Same answer you always do.” Jake shoved himself to his feet and walked out of the room, kicking at the floor as he did so. When Elizabeth checked the hallway to make sure he’d gone to the nurse’s station and wasn’t listening, she turned back to Andre.

“There’s something I need to tell you—” she stopped, frowning. “Andre?”

“Hmm—” He blinked, then focused on her. “Sorry. I just—I don’t come across photos of Jason from before. It’s—it took me a minute. He looks so different.”

“I know.” Elizabeth picked up the photo from the wedding. “I think it’s what made it a little easier to lie two years ago,” she admitted. “It wasn’t Jason’s face, and it didn’t really feel like him.” She sighed. “If Emily had been alive, I don’t think I would have done it. I wouldn’t have kept him from his sister.” She tucked the photos back into her wallet. “I’m worried, Andre, because I think I know who the man in the park was.”

Andre stared at her. She couldn’t know. If she had any idea what was going on—what Andre had done to Jason and his brother, to Elizabeth and her son— “Who?” he asked finally.

“Franco,” Elizabeth said. She nodded at the painting behind him, one of the two boys that Andre had purchased. “Hasn’t he told you yet? Betsy saw that painting and told him that there had been a brother. A twin named Drew. She said he fell down and died. I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her, but it makes a terrible kind of sense, doesn’t it?”

His mouth was dry, but Andre forced himself to speak. “It does,” he admitted. “If Betsy was lying about the boy dying, then the man in the park might be the twin. He would have Jason’s original face.”

“Franco didn’t want me to say anything to Jason or Monica, and I agreed. Because I thought the little boy—” Elizabeth sighed and sat back down. “I thought he was dead. What was the point of dredging that all up only to hurt them? But if the brother found out—”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Andre said, hoping he looked calmer than he felt. “If this man does make contact, Monica and Jason will understand your instinct to keep it a secret—”

“But shouldn’t I tell Jason—” Elizabeth began, frowning. “I mean, this man—Jake saw him—”

“Right,” Andre said. “Right.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “All right. But Jason’s relaunch party is tonight,” he said, nearly desperate to keep her from saying anything to Drew. Not before Andre could wrap his mind around what was happening.

If Jason Morgan had escaped and was already back in Port Charles—how safe was Andre? How safe were his secrets?

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I still can’t believe he’s leaving Sonny and opening a media company.” She got to her feet. “It seems so far from the man I knew, but maybe it’s just jealousy,” she admitted. “Leaving the business—it was never an option before. Maybe Sam was right all along. She’s the one he really wanted.” She pasted a smile on her face. “I’ll leave it for now, Andre. I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially tonight. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Andre walked her to the door, then closed it as quickly as he could. He hurried to his desk and snatched up his phone.

“It’s about damn time,” the Cassadine growled in his ear.

“Shut up. Jason Morgan is in Port Charles, isn’t he?”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Andre’s stomach sank.

Damn it.

Greystone Manor: Living Room

“You look like you ate something sour,” Sonny said as Carly came through the doors around five that evening. His wife made a face at him and crossed over to the minibar, where she poured herself a glass of water.

“I was finalizing the party tonight, and because I’m not already having a crappy day, Michael was dropping her off at work,” Carly muttered.

Sonny didn’t need to ask who Michael was dropping off—their son’s relationship with Nelle Benson, the woman who had sworn revenge on Carly for reasons that no one really understood, was a sore spot for all of them. Even when Nelle’s connection to Carly’s adoptive father, Frank Benson, had been revealed, it hadn’t explained Nelle’s desire for vengeance. She’d drugged Sonny, pretended to have slept with him—and it had brought their already fragile marriage to the breaking point.

They’d only barely emerged from that without a fourth divorce under their belt—or would it have been their fifth? He’d lost count.

Sonny had wanted Nelle to slink out of town, but instead, she’d just wormed her way into Michael’s life and set up shop with Nina Cassadine at Crimson Magazine. His mouth twisted, and he joined Carly at the minibar, pouring himself a bourbon. He didn’t like to think of Crimson existing without Kate.

“Did you get into a fight with him?”

“That would depend on your definition of a fight,” Carly said. When Sonny just lifted his brows, she made a face. “No. I overheard them talking about something happening on that Morocco trip they just got back from. Something about a missing necklace that was miraculously found. I told him to keep her away from me, and then I left.”

“Good. If we just ignore the Nelle thing, he’ll figure out the truth sooner. If we make this a big deal—” Sonny waited for his wife to meet his eyes. “Carly, if we make this a thing, he’ll just dig his heels in more.”

“He’s not a toddler, Sonny. He’s an adult who spent a lot of his childhood watching Jason save one idiot woman after another, and Michael thinks Nelle can be saved.”

“Well,” Sonny said slowly, “maybe she can.”

Carly whipped her head around, her blue eyes lit with fury. “No. Not by Michael. Not in this family. Let her go find someone else to trap.”

“Carly—”

“I’m not talking about this anymore. I have to go upstairs and get ready for this party that I don’t even want to go to—” Carly closed her eyes. “I just—I keep thinking it’s going to stop,” she said softly. “Ever since Jason went off that pier, I feel like everything has just been spinning out of control, and I don’t know how to make it stop. And he’s home now, but it’s like he hates us. Or me,” she clarified. “He hates me.”

“Because you don’t even pretend to respect the women in his life—”

“I respected Courtney,” Carly pointed out.

“Yeah, well, she was my sister, and she was a pushover. You never liked anyone else Jason dated.”

“Because none of them ever liked me—”

“That—” Sonny wagged his finger at her, “—is also not true. You and Elizabeth get along sometimes.”

“Sometimes she’s not a complete idiot. She was here yesterday with Cam, and we were talking about this. This isn’t Jason, Sonny. Leaving the job? Leaving the warehouse? This wasn’t an option—”

“Carly—”

“Listen to me,” Carly insisted, and he fell silent. “It was not an option. Elizabeth said Jason never suggested it. Not once before Jake’s accident. You’re telling me if leaving was an option back when Jake was a baby, Jason wouldn’t have taken it?”

“Ten years ago,” Sonny said slowly, “things were different—”

“Sonny.”

“Jason could have walked away,” Sonny said. “It would have meant leaving Port Charles, probably disappearing with Elizabeth and the boys for a while to really be out. Neither one of them would have liked that—”

“I wouldn’t have either, but I would have understood. I knew—” Carly pressed her lips together. “I knew it was killing him not to be with Jake,” she said softly. “And maybe her, too. He was angry and irritated all the time. But it wasn’t an option. Because he wouldn’t have asked her to do it. And he wouldn’t have left us. I know the business has changed but has it changed enough that Jason could leave now?”

“Carly—”

“Something isn’t right, and it’s not just leaving the business. He bought a media company,” Carly reminded him. “He’s doing a launch party. Has Jason Morgan ever said the word launch without talking about, I don’t know, bombs?”

“Not even then,” Sonny muttered, wiping a hand over his mouth. “What are you saying?”

She stalked over to the terrace doors and stared out gloomily over the grounds. “He would have gnawed his arm off rather than go into corporate life.”

“He always liked doing the paperwork at the warehouse,” Sonny mused, and she shot him a nasty look over her shoulder.

“He liked doing the books,” she corrected. “The numbers. They—” Carly closed her eyes, hating the way tears stung her eyes. “He said they were predictable. Comforting. They never changed. He used to do the books at Kelly’s for Mama when she was managing the place. You know, he barely even uses the bike anymore,” Carly muttered. “Helena Cassadine must have fried his brains just like she did to Lucky and Jake, and it’s taken us years to figure it out—”

“He wants a safer life for his family,” Sonny said. “After Jason got shot in August—”

“Because Sam got involved like she always did—” Carly huffed and sat down. “You know, the one good thing I can say about Elizabeth is she let him do his damn job.”

“What do you want me to say, Carly? I don’t like this any more than you do—”

“I’m gonna call Uncle Luke,” Carly decided. “He’ll be able to come to town and look at Jason and see if Helena put the whammy on him or something—”

Sonny rolled his eyes and pulled his vibrating phone from his pocket. “People are allowed to change their minds—” He frowned at the message. Breach at the Queen’s Point house.

“Sonny?” When he didn’t answer right away, she called his name again, and this time he looked up at her, blinking. “What’s wrong?”

Normally he wouldn’t say anything, but he was surprised enough by the content of the text that he told her the truth. “Back when Elizabeth moved out to Queen’s Point,” he began, “Jason wanted a safe house in that neighborhood, close to theirs, so they’d have a quick escape route where we could extract them if we needed. I knew he was worried about Jake. About all of them, so he bought the place, but only Jason and I ever knew about it. And Spinelli. Maybe Elizabeth. Jason bought the house and buried the deed. No one ever knew it was connected to us.”

“So?”

“We never used it. It was Jason’s thing, for his family, and—” Sonny pausd. “I forgot about it. But this—” He held up his phone. “Spinelli sent me a text from Portland. Someone just disengaged the alarm.”

Carly rubbed a hand up her arm. “Why would anyone care? Elizabeth doesn’t even live in that neighborhood anymore—”

“I know,” Sonny murmured. “I’m gonna go check it out—”

“Oh—” Carly winced as her husband walked past her. “Don’t go alone—”

“Don’t worry. It’s probably nothing.” He kissed her cheek. “If I run late, I’ll just meet you at the hotel.”

Webber House: Living Room

Elizabeth walked into the living room where Cameron was trying very hard not to beat Aiden at a video game. Judging from the growling of her youngest son, he wasn’t doing a good job.

“Hey, Franco said he’s spending the night at his studio, so Cam, you’re keeping the boys alive. Trina should be able to help with that. Is she still coming?” she asked, leaning a hip against the sofa.

“Yeah.” Cameron frowned at the screen. “Her mom might call yours to double-check on the Franco situation.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “Excuse me?”

“Dr. Rob does not like your current mistake,” Cameron continued absently, almost as if he wasn’t really paying attention. “So Trina can’t come over if he’s here.”

“You—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Didn’t come up before now. Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be in college in a couple of years—”

“Three,” Elizabeth muttered, not liking how close her baby was to being eighteen and leaving her. What if he never came home? What if he went far away and never talked to her again like she had with her parents? “Cameron—”

“Joey’s mom doesn’t let him over here either,” Aiden volunteered. “Ever since Joey told her that Franco moved in before the Nurse’s Ball.” He shrugged. “Joey doesn’t have any brothers, so we never gotta fight for the video games.”

Why hadn’t she known that Franco’s presence in her life caused problems for her boys?

“I’m sorry, Mom—” Cameron said. “I didn’t mean—” He scowled when his car went off the track. “I wasn’t paying attention. I shouldn’t have said anything—” He shifted, turned towards her. “It’s not a big deal—”

“Is this happening to Jake, too?” Elizabeth asked. She hesitated when Jake stepped off the stairs, his arms clutched around one of Elizabeth’s photo albums from her room. “Jake, are your friends allowed to come over?”

“Not when Franco’s the only adult,” Jake said easily. He set the album on the table and opened it. “Mom, I don’t care what you and Dr. Maddox said. I don’t think the guy just sort of looked like Dad did. I think he looked exactly like him—”

“Jake—” She could only handle so many crises at a time. She exhaled on a low breath. She’d deal with Franco and the boys later. “I told you—”

“See—I knew it—” He handed her a photograph. “I knew we had a picture of Dad in a hat.”

“Really? Jason in a hat?” Cameron leaned over. “He does not look comfortable—hey, Aunt Em looks really young!”

Elizabeth sighed. Jake had grabbed an album from nearly two decades ago. She and Lucky had gone to the Canadian border looking for Emily when she’d been kidnapped by Zander. Jason had rescued her, and they’d returned to Port Charles. She remembered Emily and Jason saying goodbye at Kelly’s, and Emily finding a hat in Jason’s bag as he’d packed the bike up in the parking lot. He’d bought it at a store at the border to blend in.

Emily insisted he put it on for her, and Elizabeth had snapped a picture of them. She’d given one copy to Emily—and kept the other for herself.

What a different man he’d been once.

“Jake—” Elizabeth looked at her middle, miracle boy. “I believe you. I just—I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it. People can look alike.” Her stomach twisted. She hated lying to her boys, but she didn’t want Jake to worry. She’d fix this. She’d find a way to make this okay.

“But—”

“I told you I’d make some calls and see if Spinelli could look into it, but we’re not going to solve this tonight.” She kissed Jake’s head and handed the photo back to him. “I’m going upstairs to get ready for the party. Try not to kill each other.”

Safe House: Porch

The house, six blocks away from ruins of the house on Lexington Avenue where Elizabeth had raised the boys until the year before, looked like it had the last time Sonny had seen it.

He’d understood Jason’s worries about Elizabeth and the boys living in what had been a new development—so far from the center of town, from the Towers where Jason was. It would take Jason almost a half hour to get to her if anything went wrong—he’d wanted something closer if she needed to run.

Now, Sonny realized he didn’t know if Elizabeth had ever known about the house. They’d never spoken about it. In fact, Sonny couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to Jake’s mother except in passing.

He punched in the security code, noting that it had been armed when he’d arrived. Maybe it was a vagrant who tripped it—maybe the security code had failed after all these years—

And maybe it had been a technical glitch on Spinelli’s end.

But the hairs on the back of Sonny’s neck lifted as he pushed the door open and found the light on by the sofa, a duffel bag next to the table.

Someone was here—someone who knew about this house and how to get in.

Something that less than five people on the planet should have known.

Sonny closed the door behind him, then walked over to the kitchen. It was dark and empty. He turned back at the creak of the stairs. He slid the gun from the holster inside his jacket and held it low.

“Who’s there?” he demanded.

Then a man turned the corner of the stairwell and came down to the first landing, where it wrapped around to meet the first floor. As he came into the light of the living room, Sonny stared into the eyes of a ghost.

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