Category Archives: Flash Fiction

July 18, 2020

This entry is part 12 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits.

Smoke seared her lungs as Elizabeth struggled to think, struggled to make sense of what was going—the smell of gasoline seeped into her nostrils, and thne she became aware of arms dragging her away, dragging her across the grass lawn.

“No, no, no!” she slapped at the hands, tried to crawl towards the car. “Jason! Where—”

“We have to get out of here!” her brother’s voice filtered in through her panic, her terror. Not again. Not another bomb. Not another explosion to blow apart her life—

“Not without Jason!”

“I’m—” She heard his voice—heard Jason’s coughing as he limped towards them—he’d been blown clear of the car—the force of explosion had sent him away from Steven or Elizabeth, on the other side of the lawn—

“We have to get out of here before they realize you’re alive!” Steven hissed at her. With Jason in her sight, this time, she let her brother drag her to her feet and half-carry her back to the bushes—around the house, and to a back driveway where an ashen Kelly Lee was already in the driver’s seat of the SUV.

“Jason—where—”

“I’m right behind you,” he assured her, his voice barely audible through the rasp. Steven shoved her into the back seat, and barely allowed for time to Jason to climb in after her before he was screaming at Kelly to go.

Kelly backed out of the driveway just as fire engines and sirens rolled down her street—they sped past curious and panicked neighbors, past the broken hulk of the SUV they’d driven to the house only minutes before—

“What the hell is going on?” Elizabeth demanded. “Steven, where have you been? Who—how—”

“I’ll explain everything as soon as Kelly gets us out of town—” He glanced over at the doctor who nodded, and without question, took a turn that put them on the highway out of residential Port Charles and the town entirely.

—

Ten minutes later, Kelly took an exit that brought them into a heavily wooded area—down a back road where they pulled up in front of cabin. Elizabeth was shaky as she got out of the car, holding a piece of her jacket to Jason’s arm, bleeding heavily. He’d been more injured than he’d let on, and was struggling to keep alert.

“Just a few more minutes,” she told him. “Steven—STeven, you need to—”

“I got him, Bits. Go in with Kelly. Don’t worry—no one can find us here.”

“How—” Elizabeth swallowed her protests, then nodded. It could wait. It had to wait.

Kelly seemed to know where everything was—which made Elizabeth wonder what the hell was going on with the doctor and Elizabeth’s brother. She grabbed a first aid kit, and was already unpacking it when Steven laid Jason out on the sofa.

“You’re okay?” Jason asked, grabbing Elizabeth’s arms. He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting closed—then he jerked them open. “You didn’t get—”

“I’m fine,” she promised, looking over as Kelly started to clean the wound on Jason’s arm. Steven winced at the mess of Jason’s leg. “I’m fine. We’re okay. Just—just relax, okay? It can wait—”

“It can’t,” Steven said grimly. He looked at his sister. “You’re on to them. They’re probably already moving her.”

“Her.” Elizabeth’s heart felt like it was flipping in her chest. “You mean—”

“Lily.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “She’s—she’s really—”

“She’s alive,” Steven said grimly. “I didn’t—I had my suspicions from the beginning, but I couldn’t prove it. I still can’t. But I know it.”

“How—” Elizabeth looked at Kelly.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know. I thought both babies—” Kelly cleared her throat, focused on cleaning Jason’s arm, then searched the kit for the needle kit so she could stitch the gash. “I thought they’d both died. That wasn’t a lie. I didn’t know for months that you’d been told she was still born.”

“That was Devlin,” Steven bit out. Elizabeth blinked, shook her head.

“Ian? Ian told you—”

“He was on duty in the ER,” Steven said. “He took you in—he created the electronic records. He must have made the switch.”

“This—I can’t follow any of this. How do I get my daughter back?” Elizabeth demanded.

“I don’t know,” Steven admitted. He met her eyes, and she could see the anguish in them. “I should have told you—I was trying to protect you. I knew someone was trying to kill Jason—I didn’t want—”

Jason propped himself up on one elbow, and with all the energy he could muster. “You were out of town when I got shot in Cairo,” he managed. “Where—”

“I was trying to find you,” Steven admitted. “I caught up to you, but I think—I think I led them right to you. I’m sorry. I didn’t—” He looked at his sister. “It’s all my fault.”

“No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. Of course not—”

“Steven, let’s get him to one of the bedrooms,” Kelly murmured. “You can finish stitching that leg with more room and you can start at the beginning. We’ve pieced enough together.”

“Yeah.” Steven exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Jason, can you—”

“I can make it.” Jason grunted as Steven helped him to stand, then slowly the four of them went down a hallway to a bedroom.

“What is this place?” Elizabeth asked, frowning as she looked around.

“I bought it two years ago,” Steven told her. “Kelly and I have been using to compare notes and plan. They don’t know about it—”

“You keep saying they,” Jason cut in. “Who is they?”

“Ric,” Steven said. He cut away the bottom half of Jason’s jeans. “He was behind the car bomb. He meant to kill Jason. He wanted to leave Elizabeth alone.” He looked at his sister. “But then you decided to take the SUV to the appointment. And Ric must have scrambled. He couldn’t kill Jason, but you’d survived. So he—”

“He took our daughter,” Elizabeth said faintly.

“He hoped that would drive you apart until he could take another shot,” Steven continued. “I think. I don’t know for sure. He keeps everything close to his chest, but he set up Sonny and Carly to take the fall. Sonny ordered the explosives, and Carly—” He closed his eyes.

“Steven, what happened the night Carly died?”

Steven looked at her, tears in his eyes. “He caught us. In bed. We were having an affair. I heard footsteps, so I tried to get away. I didn’t—I left by the back stairs, I thought we got away with it—but then they found her the next morning—her neck was broken—”

“Oh, God.” Elizabeth pressed her fist to mouth. “Steven—”

“Sonny must have killed her, because then he tried to kill me. In my apartment.”

July 17, 2020

This entry is part 12 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 19 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

Before Jason could even think about answering Cameron’s question, Diane strode back into the room, her cell phone still in her hands.

“Okay, I’ve got my assistant writing up an emergency motion that Judge Worth will sign at—” Diane checked the time on her phone. “Two. The arrest warrant will be squashed then.” She lifted her brow, looking around at the room. “Where did Elizabeth go?”

“She needed a minute.” Cameron turned away from Jason, folded his arms. “Why doesn’t my mom trust you?” he asked, directing the uncomfortable question to Diane who pursed her lips. “I don’t understand what’s going on—”

“Well,” Diane drawled, looking at Jason with a bit of regret. “After the truth about Jake Doe came out—the truth as we knew it back then—you remember that a lot of people weren’t happy with your mother.”

“Yeah,” Cameron said, darkly. “It rings a bell.” Jason frowned at him, wondering how bad it had been. “But what did you have to do with it? You were always my mother’s lawyer before then.”

“Because Jason asked me to take her on as a client,” Diane clarified. “I felt—I suppose—that my loyalty was to him. And as I thought she’d lied to him—” She cleared her throat delicately. “I may not have been kind or understanding.”

Cameron scowled. “Because no one in this town ever lies, right? God forbid my mother just acts like everyone else for five minutes.” He took his his wallet from his jeans and removed a crumbled five dollar bill. He set it on the counter in the kitchen. “I agree with my mother. I’d feel better if I were paying for my own lawyer. Does this work?”

Diane stared at the five dollars, which Jason knew would barely pay for her fancy coffee, then reached for it. She stared at the wrinkled bill, then raised her eyes to Cameron. “I regret the way I acted, and I owe her an apology. This works.”

She looked at Jason. “If you don’t mind, I think my new client and I need to have a frank conversation about what happens if the PCPD still manages to get him in the seat for questioning. I can keep him from getting arrested, but it might be harder to argue against a material witness order.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jason said. “I have to go—” He left them talking and went down the hall. He gently knocked on Jake’s door.

“Come in,” Elizabeth called, her voice muffled.

He found her standing by the window, looking out over the view of the waterfront. From his apartment he could see the warehouse, the pier, Kelly’s—and even the corner of her old studio building.

“Should I apologize?” Elizabeth asked without turning around.

Jason exhaled slowly, then closed the door behind him. “Do you feel like you said anything that was wrong?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then, no.” Jason folded his arms, remaining by the door. “Cameron just hired Diane, by the way. For five dollars. She’s on his retainer now.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly, then looked at him. He was struck by the sadness in her eyes, the tenseness in her shoulders—all of the anger, the fire, and determination she’d exhibited in the living room with Diane, Chase, and Jason—it had dissipated, almost like it had never existed.

“I should probably apologize to Diane,” she admitted. “She wasn’t all that nice after everyone found out the truth, but no one was. And I know she takes her job seriously. I just—” Elizabeth said nothing for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. “I don’t know. I guess I can’t see anything clearly when Sam’s involved.”

“I get it. She’s—she’s done a lot of damage over the years,” Jason told her. “And I know you don’t trust me—”

“It’s not that I don’t—” Elizabeth turned around to fully face him. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Jason. It’s that I don’t—” She bit her lip. “I hate her.”

“I know—”

“No, you don’t—” Elizabeth shook her head. “You don’t know. I mean, I hate her. For what she did to me with Jake—all those weeks of terror—of not knowing where my baby was—then those men with the guns in the park—I just—I don’t think I could ever forgive her for it.” Her eyes burned into his. “And I don’t know why you did. So, yeah, when it comes to Sam, Jason, I don’t entirely think you’d put me first. You never have before.”

She looked away again when he said nothing—he had no defense to any of that. Sam had commited those crimes against Elizabeth, and it wasn’t his job to talk her out of the anger or attempt to explain how he could—only two years later, allow Sam back into his life.

“Then again, I married Ric after what he did to Carly, right? And I took Lucky back after all the damage—you know, I nearly married Ric again a few years ago? And I lied about Danny. I kept another son from you. First Jake, then Danny—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I thought—I thought at first I would just to do to her what she did to me,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’d lost Jake. I’d lost him, and Sam had stolen time from me. I’d never get those weeks back. It seemed—God, it seemed so fair that I’d do the same for her. And I’d get to finally win.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I was going to wait the exact same amount of time Jake was kidnapped.”

“You barely managed a week,” he murmured. “And I never blamed you. I never told Sam.”

She looked at him with a small smile. “I know. I’d like to think you wouldn’t have told her, but you were shot and kidnapped soon after. So, we’ll never know for sure, right?”

“I never blamed you for lying about the test,” Jason repeated. “And I believe you about Sam. I think—I know she’s capable of this. I know her history. What she did as a con artist before she came to Port Charles.”

“Well, I guess that’s something,” Elizabeth murmured. She cleared her throat. “Should we tell the police or—”

They looked towards the door as they heard a door open in the front of the apartment. “Mom?” Cameron called. “Drew’s here! He needs to talk to you about Sam!”

July 16, 2020

This entry is part 7 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Jason set a twenty on the counter, picked up his coffee, and turned around to head out the door—stopping short when he saw Sam just behind him.

He cleared his throat, and she looked at the ground. He hadn’t seen Sam around all that much since they’d signed their divorce papers in August—just that one time, really, in the park two weeks earlier when he and Elizabeth had been on their way to Cameron’s fall picnic.

He’d turned a corner, and Elizabeth had stopped first. Jason hadn’t noticed Sam or John McBain at first—he’d been looking at Elizabeth, enjoying the way she talked about her day at work and her stories about the patients she’d treated. She’d been happy that day—happy in a way that she wasn’t often after they’d lost Jake.

Jason had looked over, followed Elizabeth’s eyes to the bench where his ex-wife was sitting with McBain. There’d been a slight tensing in his stomach, in his shoulders, and he’d almost said something—

But then he’d felt Elizabeth’s grip on his hand weaken, starting to slide away from him, and Jason was jolted back to where he was—and what her fears were. She didn’t trust him not to go back to Sam, not to drift back to the comfort of someone he knew wouldn’t challenge him. Wouldn’t make him want to be a better person.

He’d smiled at her, and they’d continued on to the picnic, even after he’d seen Sam look at them. Jason had handled that moment just right, and he’d swallowed any other feeling. It was better than upsetting Elizabeth even a little.

But now he was standing in front of his ex-wife. No Elizabeth around to influence the way he reacted, and no one in the diner that might take news of this back to her.

“Uh, hey,” Sam said, finally. She scratched her forehead, and offered him an awkward smile. “I haven’t seen you around in a while. Not since—” She cleared her throat. “Anyway.” She folded her arms. “How are you?”

“Good,” Jason said cautiously, not sure where she was going with this. “You?”

“Good,” she repeated, nodding. “Um. I—” She pursed her lips. “I don’t—I shouldn’t ask you this because it’s none of my business. It’s not,” she added as if he’d argued with her. “But I guess I can’t help myself.”

“Okay.” Jason waited as Sam’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away. She rocked back on her heels, then took a deep breath.

“Are you and Elizabeth—I mean—are you—” Sam looked at him, and he could see the vulnerability in her eyes—and he realized that he’d left Sam with the same worry that Elizabeth had. Neither of these women were confident that he’d chosen them—that he would choose them—that they weren’t in competition with each other.

Jason hesitated, unsure how to answer the question, uncomfortable with the realization of what he’d done somehow, without meaning to. He didn’t want to lie to Sam, but he wasn’t sure of the truth.

Were he and Elizabeth together? No. Not technically. Not in a way that she was comfortable stating, but—

Jason didn’t want to lie to Sam, to himself, or anyone else. “Yeah,” he said finally. “We’re working on it.”

“Oh.” Sam’s mouth formed the word, but the sound was barely audible. She hadn’t expected that. “I—I didn’t—” She took a deep breath. “Okay, then.”

“Should I apologize?” Jason asked, uncertainly, conscious that he’d hurt her but not really sure what to do about it. They’d been separated for six months, and their relationship had already been on life support prior to that. He knew she’d drifted towards John McBain, so was it surprising that Jason had also moved on?

“No, no, of course not. That’s—” Sam coughed. “That’s the whole point of divorce, you know? Um, we don’t work, so it’s—we should go find people we do work with. I just—” She closed her eyes. “Yeah. I think—I don’t know, maybe you should. Or not. This is ridiculous.” Sam rolled her eyes. “You can’t be surprised that I’m jealous of Elizabeth, can you? I mean, she’s always been—” She wiggled her fingers. “There. In the background. Even the first time we broke up six years ago, you know?”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Sam—”

“So I guess maybe I’m looking for an apology I don’t really deserve,” she muttered. “Because I knew it, and I thought I could—this is stupid,” she said. “I’m not doing this to myself anymore. I asked you, you answered—thank you for not lying.”

She turned and stalked out of the restaurant as Jason frowned after her, not entirely sure he’d handled that right but unable to see how he could have done it differently.

—

The next day was Halloween, and Elizabeth was waiting outside of her house with her boys, rolling her eyes as Patrick scowled at the matching costumes Cameron and Emma had picked out from the store. Cameron was dressed as Flynn Rider, and Emma was ridiculously excited over the luxurious long wig she got to wear as Rapunzel.

“They’re babies,” Patrick said disgusted.

Elizabeth snickered as she lifted Aiden, dressed as a pumpkin, into his red wagon. “They’re eight, Patrick. How old were you when you had your first crush?” she teased.

Patrick’s eyes widened with horror. “I was five.” He pointed a finger at her. “You keep your kid away from my princess—”

“Hey, you want to know something really terrifying—” Elizabeth wiggled her eyebrows. “I was also five. Guess who my first crush was?”

“Oh, God.” Patrick groaned. “Who? Scott Baio?”

“Nope. Closer to home.” Elizabeth smiled as Jason stepped out his SUV and walked towards them. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jason nodded at Patrick. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem. Patrick and I were just comparing notes on our first crushes,” Elizabeth told him. “He’s not comfortable with Emma and Cameron—they’re dressed as a couple from a Disney movie.”

“Okay,” Jason said. “I don’t remember mine,” he admitted. “I mean, from their age. But in the hospital, after the accident, I had—I guess you’d call it a crush on Bobbie.”

“Bobbie, huh? I’ve seen pictures.” Patrick looked at Elizabeth. “So if it’s not Scott Baio, who? Oh, God, a New Kid? Jordan?”

“We’re going to come back to your knowledge of 1980s heartthrubs in a minute,” Elizabeth said. “But, no. The summer I was visiting my grandparents when I was five.” She grinned at Jason. “My brother was hanging out with a couple of kids his age. AJ was his best friend back then, but ah, I had thought his twelve-year-old little brother was perfect.”

Jason raised his brows. “Me?” he repeated.

“Oh, yeah.” Elizabeth shrugged. “So, Patrick, it could be worse.”

“I hate all of you,” Patrick muttered.

This entry is part 12 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Elizabeth stared at Jason for a long moment, then slowly shook her head. “No. You don’t get to—” She fisted her hand and raised it slightly, trying to gather herself. “No. Ric is guilty of many things, but what happened with you—with me—you don’t get to lay that at his feet.”

Jason scowled, took a step towards her. “He kept you from getting my letters—he made sure I never got yours. He blackmailed my grandmother into lying to you—”

“And none of that explains why you never came back.”

Her flat statement, devoid of any emotion—her empty, betrayed eyes—had Jason swallowing hard. He looked away.

“I should have.”

“But you didn’t. I wrote you for two years before I gave you. You—you wrote for one. You never came home, Jason. You gave up on me first,” she reminded him. “You feel guilty, I understand that. And maybe—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “We were young. And I can understand you giving up. You were out there in the world, and maybe it just—it was easier. I don’t know, but I can forgive it, Jason. And I do. Jason, look at me—”

She waited until his eyes focused on hers. “I forgive you for not coming back, for letting me go. I had to let you go, too. And maybe if it was just as simple as my father keeping our letters from each other—if that were the only thing standing between us, we could see if there was a future for us.”

Her lips twisted. “You want to rescue me from Ric, but I don’t need you to do it. I haven’t wasting away here, you know, married to a man twice my age and unhappy. It might be hard for you to understand this—but I let you go. I may not have loved Cameron the way I loved you, but I cared for him. He loved me, and he loved our son.”

“I’m glad—” Jason took a deep breath, looked at the ground for a moment, then raised his eyes to look at her. “I’m glad. And you’re right. It’s easy to blame Ric for everything. He was part of it—but I should have come back. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

He waited a long moment. “But you’re wrong that I just want to rescue you. I do—if you want to leave Diamond Springs, that’s okay. I can understand that. But—” He shook his head. “You are’t the only person who deseves justice. Your grandparents, my grandmother—Ric used them. And if you’re right about the Lewis family, he’s responisble for what happened to Alexander and Peter.”

“If you know what Ric is capable of and you still want to go after him, I can’t stop you. I just don’t want you to risk yourself on my account.” Elizabeth folded her arms tightly at her waist. “I’ve loved this ranch my whole life, but it’s not all there is. And I think I’ll enjoy living in San Francisco. The sale of my horses, the money I’ve put away from the ranch—I’ll be okay.”

“Can you wait a few days?” Jason asked. He took a step towards her, his voice softening. “I’ve got a plan—and you should be here to see it—”

“I need to make sure my son is safe. Ric can take the ranch, but he couldn’t take my horses. They’re owned by me free and clear. So I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“All right.” Jason nodded. He reached out, tucked a curl that had come loose from her top knot behind her ear. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“I’m glad you came home,” Elizabeth told him. She leaned up to kiss his cheek. She lingered near him, her cheek brushing his, remembering the sweetness of their childhood, the bright future they’d planned. “I’m glad to know the truth.”

“I am, too.” His voice was low, husky. He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “And when Ric isn’t a threat anymore—maybe we can—”

“Don’t make promises,” she murmured. Elizabeth clasped her hand over his, held it to her cheek for another moment, then slowly drew it away.

“I won’t,” Jason told her. He kissed her forehead. “I need to get back to town. I have a lot to do, and I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Okay.”

He walked away from her, their hands clasped until the last moment as he walked backwards towards her steps. Elizabeth watched as he mounted his horse and rode towards the entrance to her ranch.

Then went back inside.

—

Jason had planned to take action the next day, but he couldn’t risk Ric learning of Elizabeth’s flight to San Francisco and going after her or causing her any more pain.

He returned to the jail and found his cousin reading another one of his Twain novels. “Dillon, let’s go. We’ve got an arrest to make.”

Dillon straightened in his chair, dropped the book to the desk and furrowed his brow. “Oh, yeah? Who?”

“You’ll see. I might need help bringing him in.” Not that Dillon would be much help, but there were some strength in numbers.

Dillon shrugged, and followed Jason out of the jail. They walked across the street, then Dillon gulped as they reached the bank. “Uh, Jase—”

“I know what I’m doing,” Jason muttered. “Stop looking like you’re about to faint. You’re a deputy, damn it.”

“Right. Right. Man of law. Man of action. Deputy.” Dillon squared his shoulders, then attempted to adopt a tough expression. Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes — it was better than he’d looked before.

He stalked into the bank and ignored the tellers working who tried to stop him as he went to Ric’s office.

“Sheriff.” Ric got to his feet, arched his brow. “I didn’t think we had any business—”

“You were wrong. I’m arresting you for forgery, exhortion, and theft.” Jason rounded the desk, put a hand on the gun holstered at his side. “Do me a favor, Lansing. Try to run.”

Ric searched Jason’s eyes for a moment, and Jason was gratified to see the flicker of fear in them before it smoothed out. “William,” he called out. “Please cable Holt in Sacremento. He’s a state legislator,” he informed Jason coolly. “He’ll have your badge.”

“Really? Is that James Holt? I grew up calling him Jimmy Lee.” Ric’s eyes narrowed, and Jason sneered, grabbing Ric’s arm and shoved him to the exit. “He’s a Quartermaine cousin, or didn’t you know that?”

July 15, 2020

This entry is part 11 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

Sonny’s condition was treated as part of an accidental overdose, and Jason and Elizabeth were able to leave the emergency room without further incident. Jason was quiet on the elevator ride to Patrick’s floor.

“I’m sorry about Sonny,” Elizabeth said, folding her arms.

He looked at her blankly, then shook his head. “It’s—it’s fine. They think he did it to himself because of Carly. But he wanted to warn me. And you’re telling me that someone screwed with the records after Lily was born—this all goes back to the bomb.”

“Why did it take so long to come out?” Elizabeth wondered as they stepped out of the elevator. “Shouldn’t we all have realized something then? I mean, I knew Kelly. I thought she was my friend, and did—did Sam know?”

“Sam?” Jason took her elbow, stopping her in the hall way. “McCall? Sonny’s old girlfriend?”

“She—she’s the mother of the other baby born the same day.” Elizabeth blinked. “Didn’t I say that? Patrick said she’d moved after her daughter was born—” She swallowed. “What if her daughter is ours? What if Lily is alive, Jason? And Steven found out? What does that have to do with Sonny and Carly?”

“They—they wouldn’t have—it couldn’t be them.” Jason exhaled on a sharp, frustrated breath. “They wouldn’t have done this. Carly never would have agreed to anything that involved Sam. Sonny’s affair with her was the last straw for them. She never forgave Sonny for that.”

They resumed their path towards Patrick’s office, and found the doctor immersed in records and files. He glanced up at their entrance. “Hey—what happened down in the ER? Elizabeth said Sonny was on his way in.”

“I found Sonny almost passed out in the penthouse,” Jason told him. “In my penthouse. He wanted me and Elizabeth to get out of town. He lost consciousness on his way here, and the doctors—” He took a deep breath. “The doctors said it was an overdose and he might not wake up.”

“Well, I don’t know if this helps anything, but I’m convinced something is screwed up. Because Baby Girl McCall has a full autopsy report in her file that says she died from loss of oxygen from placenta previa,” Patrick told them. “And there’s nothing in Lily’s file that suggests she ever died at all.”

Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat as she absorbed that. “They switched her. Our—” She looked at Jason, saw the blank shock in his eyes. “They switched our little girl. Who—”

“Ric paid Sam to go away,” Jason told her softly. “He knew where she was. And he paid her seven months before the car bomb. She was pregnant. Ric paid her to get an abortion.”

Elizabeth clenched her fists in her lap. “But—but she didn’t. Obviously. But—why would Ric—” She closed her eyes. “He was so angry when I got pregnant—when we were planning for Lily. He tried to kill her, kill us, but when it didn’t work—”

“He wanted you to suffer anyway.” Patrick shook his head. “I can’t believe Kelly would have agreed—”

Jason’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out and took a deep breath. “Spinelli has her address. Let’s go ask her.”

—

Elizabeth had worked closely with Kelly Lee during her years at General Hospital. They’d gone drinking together, and Kelly had been—if not a close friend—a good one. She’d gone to Elizabeth’s wedding, attended her bridal shower—

And right up until Kelly opened her door, Elizabeth wanted to believe there was some sort of tragic misunderstanding—

But Kelly opened the door, saw them, and slammed it shut. Elizabeth’s heart started thudding. “Oh my God.”

Jason’s jaw clenched, and he pounded on the door. “Open up!”

“Kelly, please!” Elizabeth said, tapping her palm against the window. “Please!”

“Go away,” her voice came, muffled through the mail slot. “It’s not safe—”

“Did—is my daughter dead?” Elizabeth demanded. “I’ll break this goddamn window, Kelly, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on!”

Kelly cracked the door slightly, her face pale. “Yes,” she said softly. “But I can’t say anything else. I told Steven. I told him I couldn’t. They’ll kill me. They won’t stop—”

“Kelly, is she with Sam? Is that my baby—”

“I have to go—” Kelly slammed the door again, and Jason nearly lost his fingers trying to keep it open.

“Damn it. She’s alive—” Elizabeth turned around, clenched her hands in her hair, wanting to scream. “Why can’t anyone just tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Spinelli is looking for Sam,” Jason told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure this out—”

“Not if Sam gets warned. She’ll disappear with her, and we’ll—” Elizabeth’s voice broke. “We’ll never saw her—I can’t do this, Jason—” She turned to him, clenching her hands in his shirt, her eyes wild wit grief. “I can’t lose her again, not after finding out she might be alive—”

Jason drew hard against him, wrapping his arms around her as if he could shield her from the world. All this time he’d thought he’d been the reason they’d lost their daughter—

“I’m not letting anyone take Lily from us again. Not when we’re this close,” he told her. “Let’s go meet with Justus, and figure out the next step.”

Just before they reached their car, a voice called out to them from a few cars away. Elizabeth blinked, turning towards it. “That sounds like—”

“Get away!” Came the cry of Steven Webber as he ran out from behind a set of bushes and hurled himself at Elizabeth, throwing her to the ground.

Behind them, Jason’s SUV exploded, and Elizabeth—

Elizabeth couldn’t find Jason.

This entry is part 11 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“Why can’t I be in the room?” Elizabeth demanded. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Chase. Now that she knew she hadn’t murdered Franco, that someone was setting her up, there was no way in hell she was going to let the PCPD push her around.

And she was absolutely going to be in the room when Chase questioned Cameron.

Chase sent Diane a pained look. “Ms. Miller, I agreed not to take Cameron down the station without talking to him first, but—”

“But what?” Elizabeth said, cutting off Diane’s answer earning her an irritated glare from her lawyer. “I am his mother. He is sixteen years old—”

“For the purposes of this warrent, Ms. Webber,” Chase said, “he’s an adult—”

“Mom,” Cameron murmured. He touched her elbow. “I’m okay. Diane’s here—”

“Diane doesn’t work for you,” Elizabeth told her. She turned her back on both Diane and Chase, her tone slightly pleading. “She works for Jason. Not us—”

“Gee, thanks—”

“I appreciate you coming down in the middle of the night, Diane, and taking care of things,” Elizabeth said flatly. “But I’m not paying for your legal services, am I? You’re here on retainer from Jason and Sonny. And their family.”

At those words, Diane’s mouth tightened as she took the hit. Diane might want to let bygones be bygones, but Elizabeth would never forget the way she’d been treated after her lie about Jake Doe had been revealed.

Diane had taken sides.

“Ms. Webber—”

Jason pushed open the door, relief crossing his expression when he saw them still there—then he sensed the tension in the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Elizabeth isn’t convinced I am working for her and her family,” Diane told him. “And she isn’t willing to let Cameron be questioned here, outside of an interrogation room—” This she said to Elizabeth slowly as if she was an idiot, “—without her present—”

“She’s his mother.” Jason squinted at Chase. “And if you’re here to arrest Cameron, then you must not consider Elizabeth a suspect. So why can’t she stay?”

Chase hesitated, then grimaced.

Surprised by Jason’s defense and that he wasn’t angry that she was questioning Diane’s loyalty, Elizabeth turned to the cop. “Did you get an arrest warrant for my son to force him into questioning?” she demanded in almost a hissed tone. “Because you know you can’t force him—”

“An arrest warrant is much easier and faster than a material witness order,” Diane said with nod. “That’s a very good question, Elizabeth. Detective Chase, maybe you can illuminate us on the evidence.” She reached out her hand. “I’d like to examine that warrant.”

Chase shoved it at her. “It wasn’t my idea, okay?” he said, his irritation on full display. “I wanted to reach out, but my commissioner and the DA—”

“The DA who railroaded Carly into Ferncliffe with the testimony of a known liar?” Elizabeth demanded. “She sent you here?”

“I’m just doing my job,” Chase said, exasperated. “And you already confessed,” he said to Elizabeth. “So let your kid tell his side, and this can be over—”

Diane pursed her lips. “I’ll have this arrest warrant squashed in five minutes in front of a judge. So you know what? You go back to the PCPD and tell them Cameron will surrender himself at three. He’s not a flight risk—”

“Oh, no? Then where was he last night and why didn’t his mother—his only biological relative—not know where he was?” Chase shot back.

“You never asked me where Cameron was,” Jason said quietly. All of them turned to look at him. “I didn’t know where Jake was. I didn’t know he was with his brothers. But I knew where Cameron was.”

“You—” Chase swallowed as Elizabeth and Cameron both stared at him in confusion. “What? When? And what do you mean I never asked—I made it clear—” He stopped. “You know what? No. I’m not doing this.” He turned to Cameron. “If you don’t answer questions now, kid, I’m taking you to the PCPD—”

“Not on this evidence you won’t,” Diane snarled. She yanked out her cell phone and started to dial. “I’ll have an injunction ordered before you can even get down to the car.” She pressed it to her ear. “Using coercion on an innocent teenage child to testify against his mother—oh, the press is going to love this. I’ll be on the phone with the Sun after this—”

“Fine. I’ll tell the station you’ll surrender at three,” Chase said to Cameron, obviously over the entire situation and not entirely sure he’d be able to put Cameron in cuffs without injury. “This wasn’t my choice,” he repeated as he stood in the doorway.

“No, but you sure as hell didn’t say no.” Elizabeth stalked over to the door and slammed the door shut—almost shoving the cop out. She dragged her hands through her hair and looked at Cameron. “If Diane can’t get an injunction filed, you don’t say a word. They’ll twist whatever you say—”

“Oh, so now I’m trust worthy?” Diane said with a roll of her eyes. She held up a finger and walked out of the room. “Judge Worth! Have I got a bone to pick with you—”

She disappeared down the hall while Elizabeth took a deep breath, looked at Jason. “Jake and Aiden are with Laura. I didn’t think you’d mind, but if you want Jake to stay here—”

“No, that’s fine—” Jason looked at Cameron. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Um, yeah.” Cameron sat on the couch. “Mom, I think Diane is okay—”

“If this is about what we talked about—Diane doesn’t work for anyone except me and Sonny,” Jason told Elizabeth. “So it’s not Diane you don’t trust. It’s us.”

“Mom?” Cameron frowned. “I thought—I thought you said we could trust Jason. What happened? What’s going on?”

When Elizabeth bit her lip and might not have said anything, Jason took the decision from her. “Your mom trusted me before we realized the most likely suspect is Sam. And she thinks I’ll throw you to the wolves to protect her.”

“Mom?” Cameron looked at his mother. “What’s going on?”

“It’s not that simple,” she said softly. “I just—I think we’d be better off if I got a lawyer that worked for us. I appreciate everything you’ve done, Jason—”

“No.” Cameron swallowed hard. “No, this isn’t fair, Mom—”

“Your mom has her reasons not to trust me where Sam is concerned,” Jason said quietly. He looked at Elizabeth. “And I can’t fix that in the next hour. Just—let Diane get the warrant squashed, and we’ll figure the rest of it out then. Okay?”

Feeling like the villain and not happy about it, Elizabeth threw up her hands. “Fine. It’s only my life and kids, so why not ignore me completely?” She stalked away, and a moment later, Jake’s bedroom door slammed shut.

Cameron looked at Jason, suddenly more guarded than before. “Why doesn’t my mom trust you now? What did you do to her?”

July 13, 2020

This entry is part 11 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or rereads.

It was another two days before Jason could put together a plan that would not only see Ric Lansing arrested and convicted of theft, but that might have a chance of protecting Elizabeth and her ranch from anything the jackass might try as revenge.

He should have realized that Elizabeth would be making her own plans — that she hadn’t asked him for help, only advice. He should have remembered that it had been a long time she’d looked to him to solve her problems.

The first warning that matters might not proceed according to his carefully constructed plan came when Patrick Drake rode into town and stopped at the local hotel to check in for a few days.

He’d known Patrick and his family since childhood, but Drake hadn’t wanted to stay in Diamond Springs. He’d gone to one of the new schools that opened in San Francisco and taken up the study of medicine. Last Jason had heard he’d stayed in the city and married. He frowned when he saw the long-legged doctor hitch a horse outside of the hotel.

“Patrick Drake?”

Patrick turned at Jason’s call and grinned. “Look at you. Jason Morgan, sheriff!” He held out a hand and Jason shook it. “Never thought you’d come back to Diamond Springs. Thought you were smart like me and got out while you could.”

“My grandfather passed away,” Jason explained. “My grandmother doesn’t have anyone other than Dillon.”

Remembering Dillon as a youth, Patrick nodded. Nothing more was needed. He squinted, looking around the dusty main street. “Amazing how much worse this place is. I can’t wait to get home.”

“What brings you back?”

Patrick hesitated, tipped his hat back on his hat—not the wide-brimmed hats the other men in town wore, but a fashionable one that looked out of place. “I probably shouldn’t say, but a friend is looking to sell some horses. She raises good stock, and I have some friends in the area still looking to get into breeding.” He shrugged. “I said I’d help.”

“She,” Jason repeated, his mouth sour. “Elizabeth.”

“Uh, yeah, but if you wouldn’t mind keeping that to yourself—I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I’m pretty sure she means Lansing and his ilk, but—” He jerked an elegant shoulder. “Lizzie and I have been writing since I went away to school, and she came to the wedding. Truth be told, I’m glad she’s finally leaving this place. Robin can’t wait to help her get set up—”

Jason cleared his throat. “When is—when is she planning to go?”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. Elizabeth is planning to go to San Francisco on the first train tomorrow,” Patrick told him. He furrowed his brow. “I’d heard you married some years ago. What’s the interest in Lizzie and her ranch? You had your chance—”

“It’s complicated,” Jason said shortly. “Excuse me.”

He returned to the jail, grabbed the reins of his horse, and swung himself up on the back.

—

Elizabeth grimaced and looked apologetically at her housekeeper. “I’m so sorry, Gail. I know this is quite short notice. I just—” She folded her hands, looked around her parlor and sighed again. “Patrick Drake is staying for a few days to take care of transporting my things—”

“I just don’t understand the rush,” Gail muttered as she set a tea tray down in front of Elizabeth. “Or the selling of the horses—” She stared at Elizabeth. “If your grandmother were here, she’d have the truth of it from you—”

“She’s not here,” Elizabeth said softly. “And I must make the best choices I can from the options given to me.”

She heard the thunder of a horse as it galloped up the drive. She frowned, got to her feet as she crossed to the window and drew back a curtain. Surely Ric couldn’t have learned about her plans—

But no, it was Jason in her front yard, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. Elizabeth took a deep breath. She was sure he felt sorry—even guilty—for what was happening, but once she explained it to him, surely, he’d understand that this was the best way to prevent Ric from doing more damage.

She met him on the front porch, holding up her hand. “Please. Cameron is napping.” She lifted her chin. “How did you find out?”

“I saw Patrick in town,” Jason said. He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re leaving.”

“Yes. I—I have little choice. There’s no point in fighting him, Jason. His forgeries will stand up in a court. Cameron and I—” Her voice trembled with the memory. “He fought Ric with everything he had. By the end, he knew what had happened to his sons, and he was determined to prevent Ric from stealing little Cameron’s future as well. But he couldn’t—we lost the house in town, and everything in it.”

“I can help—”

“I’m sure you think you’ve got an idea,” Elizabeth said softly. “But you are not the first. Cameron thought he could help me. After Alexander and Peter died, he offered for me. He thought if I were married, Ric would lose interest, and I—” She looked away. “I wasn’t ready to leave yet. My grandparents loved this ranch. I wanted to save it, their dream, for myself—for my children.”

She stepped past him to look over the land. “But I couldn’t. And it’s time to stop pretending that anyone can stop Ric.”

“I can—”

Elizabeth turned back to him. “I’ve never asked you about your wife,” she realized. “She didn’t come with you,” she continued as Jason frowned. “And I just—I suppose I didn’t allow myself to think of it—” She’d put away that terrible conversation with Lila and dragged it out now only to remind herself that Jason’s concern was platonic.

That he wanted to rescue her because of his hatred of Ric Lansing.

“I’m not—I never—my grandmother lied to you,” Jason said shortly. Elizabeth’s mouth dropped slightly as he continued. “He forged her mortgage papers, too. Elizabeth—she lied to you because Ric blackmailed her. And I can stop him.”

“No one can.” Elizabeth’s hands trembled as she turned away from, starting towards the door.

“I know you don’t have a reason to trust me, but I’ll stop him—”

She turned back to him. “No! You can’t—” Elizabeth shook her head, panicked now. “No! Just—just let it go, Jason. He’s already tried to hurt you through your family—he’ll take away everything you ever loved if you don’t stop—”

“He already did.”

July 11, 2020

This entry is part 6 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or rereads.

Elizabeth made a face when her pen rolled off the desk at the nurse’s station. She ducked down to grab it—and then because it was a Monday, and this was her life—it rolled underneath a table.

“Damn it—”

It took her nearly two minutes to drag the stupid thing out, but if she’d left it on the floor, she’d end up tripping on it.

Because it was a Monday.

She finally straightened up—and Brad Cooper, standing just on the other side of the nurse’s station jumped nearly a full foot in the air, his eyes bulging out of his face. “Where the hell did you come from?” he demanded, clasping his charts to his chest.

Elizabeth frowned at him, looked around her as if to check to see if Helena Cassadine or someone terrifying had popped up — but no, he was talking to her.

“Uh, I dropped my pen. Where did you come from?” she asked pointedly. Strange little man.

“I have test results to drop off.” Brad dropped them in the basket, then walked very quickly towards the elevators, looking at her again as he jabbed the button.

“Scaring the lab techs again?” Patrick asked as he came up behind her. They both watched Brad jabbed the button two more times in quick sucession before giving Elizabeth another look, then stepping on to the elevator.

“No, that’s your job,” she said. “I think I just scared him, and he’s jumpy as it is.”

“I try not to talk to the people who work in the lower levels,” Patrick murmured. “It gives them ideas.”

She rolled her eyes, leaving the moment light as he knew he’d appreciate. Of course, Patrick had once been married to a woman who worked in those lower levels.

Robin had died only eight months earlier, in a ghastly explosion that had devastated them all. Patrick had really struggled in the first six months, but since they’d all nearly died in the water poison crisis, he seemed to be getting better.

“Hey, I was thinking about Halloween,” Patrick told her. “It’s in three weeks, but Emma’s got a party—”

“So does Cameron,” Elizabeth said. “He asked me to bake brownies. Do you want me to toss a batch Emma’s way?”

“It would save me from from running to the store in the middle of the night and ending up with candy corn.” He grimaced. “She still brings it up like it was some kind of terrible crime.”

“Candy corn is a war crime, and should be treated as such,” Elizabeth returned with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, sure, I can double up the brownies. You still coming over for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yeah, thanks for the invite.” He hesitated. Lifted his brows. “Is Jason going to be there?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, but his expression remained bland and innocent. She didn’t believe it for a minute, but still answered him. “Yes. He’s going with us to Cameron’s pumpkin carving thing in the park, and Cam asked him to stay for dinner. Is that a problem?”

“It should be,” Patrick said darkly. “He’s the reason—”

“No.” Elizabeth touched his arm. “No. It was his medicine that Robin went back for, but he’s not the reason. You know that. She would have done it for any patient.”

He exhaled slowly, looked away. “I know that.” Patrick waited a moment. “I know that,” he repeated. “But it makes it easier to blame someone. If I can’t blame him, I’m stuck with Maxie, and she’s been through enough.”

“He never would have asked her to sacrifice her life for his, you know that.” Elizabeth sighed. “Look, it’s not—we’re not dating, so if—”

“You can say that, and he can say that, but we both know that’s not true—”

“We’re not—” She huffed. “But if we were—which we’re not—if it bothers you enough you and Emma won’t enjoy yourself, I can ask Jason to stay home tomorrow—”

“No.” Patrick picked up a chart. “No. You’re right. Robin would have gone back for anyone. It’s just Jason’s bad luck it was him.” He tipped his head. “A few years ago, you would have jumped at the chance to call this dating. What’s the deal?”

“The deal?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Oh, you mean, the fact that his divorce was finalized a month ago? A divorce from Sam, the woman he forgave and married despite everything she did to me and the boys? Yeah. I can’t imagine why I don’t want to trust he’s really done with her.”

“People forgive the insane all the time, Elizabeth. Robin forgave me,” he told her simply. “And no one would ever say she wouldn’t have been right to drop me off the cliff.”

“Lisa Niles was a psycho—”

“Not when I—” Patrick pressed his lips together, irritated with himself. She knew he didn’t like remember the hurt he’d caused Robin by having a brief affair with the crazy doctor who’d tried to kill them both. Robin had been away, had been gone for a long time—but it didn’t make it right.

“Patrick—”

“I don’t like Jason, and you know you can do a lot better,” Patrick told her bluntly. “But—I also know he’s been around a lot, and you’ve been happier. I think—” He met her eyes. “I think we’ve both had a handful of bad years. We both know life is too short not to take chance when we can.”

“I liked you better when you hated Jason.”

“You only have yourself to blame,” Patrick called over his shoulder as he took his chart and walked away.

And then her pen rolled to the ground and Elizabeth threw up her hands.

Mondays.

——

The next afternoon, Patrick’s words continued to drift through her head as she and Jason walked towards the spot in the park where the third grade was having their fall picnic. She hadn’t really thought about it’d mean for Jason to be going with her to the picnic—to be attending as her friend when it was mostly families. Parents.

“You okay?” Jason asked. She glanced at him, then sighed as they crossed the gazebo and wound their way towards the lake. “You’ve been quiet since I picked you up.”

“Long day at work,” Elizabeth said finally. She smiled up at him. “One of the lab techs is easily spooked, and every time someone walks up behind him, he jumps in the air. He’s already done it to me twice this week. Today, he jumped, hit his head and I had to stitch him up.

“Weird.” He flashed a smile at him, then laced their fingers together as they turned a corner. “But it’s not boring.”

“Not it’s not that—” Elizabeth drew up short as they came across a cluster of benches and—just in front of them sat Sam McCall and John McBain, lost in a conversation.

Sam turned her head and saw them.

And Elizabeth didn’t want to look at Jason. Didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

“We’re going to be late,” Jason said after a moment when neither Sam nor John moved. He tugged on her hand and she finally looked at him. “Cameron’s waiting.”

“Right.” She smiled, then they walked away. But she knew why she couldn’t take Patrick’s advice.

She didn’t know how to believe in dreams anymore.

This entry is part 10 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or rereads.

Jason slammed the door closed behind him and sprinted to where Sonny was lying, just behind the sofa. He rolled him over—and was relieved to see Sonny’s eyes open, just slits of brown as sweat dribbled down his face.

“Sonny—” He dragged out his phone, intending to call 911 — this was more than he could handle and their resident doctor was missing in action.

Sonny’s hand weakly caught at his shirt and Jason paused to look at his former boss and friend. “Leave—” He panted, then coughed. He rolled on his side, continued coughing. “Have—to—go. Get out. Not—safe.”

“Sonny—”

“Eliza…” Sonny’s eyes drifted shut. “Not…safe.” He passed out, but was still breathing. Jason finally dialed 911, praying he wasn’t too late to get his answers.

—

Patrick shook his head. “Elizabeth—”

“Listen to me, Patrick.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Think back to what you just told me. You remember my daughter living for five hours. But her electronic records say she didn’t. The paper records don’t record her death. Another little girl died the same day. Who was it?”

Patrick stared down at the file in front of him, then sighed. “Do you remember Sam McCall?”

“Sam?” Elizabeth repeated. “Yeah. I—She…was one of Sonny’s mistresses—” She tipped her head. “I haven’t seen her in a while—”

“She moved after her daughter died.” Patrick swallowed. “Her daughter, born the same day Lily died.”

“But—her daughter was stillborn—”

“It must be a mix up.” Patrick closed the file, but Elizabeth took it from him before he could replace it in file. “Elizabeth—don’t—don’t do this. You know how paperwork can get mixed up. Nurse, doctors—we get busy. You have a photograph of your daughter. Steven took it. Do you think he’d lie to you—”

“He obviously did since he told me she was stillborn,” Elizabeth said. She closed her eyes. Oh, God, had her brother done this to her? “He was the one to tell me. He cried, too. He couldn’t—”

“He would never hurt you.” Patrick stared down at the file, then slowly nodded. “Let’s take this and Lily’s to my office. Somewhere safe where we can go over them and figure this out. If—if there’s a chance there was a switch—we need to figure this out—”

——

Just as they reached Patrick’s office, Elizabeth got a text on her phone—an alert from Jason telling her Sonny was being rushed to the hospital. She frowned at it, then called his line—but he didn’t answer.

“Patrick, I need to go down to the ER,” she told him. “Can—can you get started on looking at the files? Make copies. Scan them. Send them to me and to Justus.” She hesitated. “And Spinelli. He can be trusted. I don’t want anything to happen to them before we can look at them.”

“What’s wrong in the ER?”

“Sonny’s being rushed in—and no one’s been able to talk to him since Carly died.” She headed for the elevators.

—

She found Jason pacing the length of the small waiting room, back and forth from one line of chairs to another. He turned, frowning at her. “Hey. I was going to call you back—”

“What happened to Sonny?” Elizabeth demanded. “Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know. I came back from talking to Emily and he was in the penthouse,” Jason said. “Lying on the floor.” He lowered his voice, took her by the elbow and steered her over towards the corner. “He told me we needed to leave town. That it wasn’t safe.”

“Well, obviously—but—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Jason, there’s something you need to know—Patrick talked to Steven three days ago. Or at least got a voice mail from him.”

“Three days—” Jason nodded. “So he’s still alive. Or was.”

“Exactly. Apparently, Steven’s been trying to track down Kelly. She resigned after Lily was born.” She looked at him, searching his eyes, praying he wouldn’t lie to her. “Jason, how did Lily die? What was her cause of death?”

“What?” He frowned at her. “You—you know. Steven told you. He told me—she was stillborn. The car bomb—I didn’t get you clear in time.” He swallowed hard. “I pushed you down too hard—”

“No—” Elizabeth touched his arm, the first gentleness she’d shown him since this had started. “No. Because Patrick just told me she was alive. He never—he never talked to me about it. Thought it would be painful. She was alive.”

“I—” Jason stepped back. Shook his head. “No—no, that’s not—that’s not what—How—”

“He said Kelly quit because she’d lost two babies. She blamed herself. I couldn’t see why—because we were both told the same thing. We both thought she died because of the bomb—”

“I don’t—” Jason clenched his fist. “I don’t understand.”

“The records don’t match. The electronic ones—they say she was stillborn, but Patrick and I just checked the paper records. Not only does Lily’s file say she was born alive—but it doesn’t have a record of her death.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but he wouldn’t say it. She knew it—it had been painful to say it outloud to put the wish out into the world. “And Steven was trying to track down Kelly.”

“Yes.”

Jason took out his cell phone and dialed. Without breaking eye contact, he said, “Justus, find an address for Kelly Lee. Now. Make sure it’s current.”

“Jason—”

“Mr. Morgan?”

They turned to see a doctor exiting one of the cubicle rooms. Elizabeth remembered him—Ian Devlin.

“Is Sonny okay?” Jason asked. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s been drugged. A potentially fatal overdose of Vicodin.” Ian looked at Elizabeth for a moment, then focused on Jason. “I’m sorry. He’s slipped into a coma and might never come out of it.”

July 10, 2020

This entry is part 10 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“It was Sam, wasn’t it?”

Jason’s quiet question had Elizabeth looking away, folding her arms, and staring at the floor. When the face, the voice had flashed into her head during her shower, Elizabeth had been convinced that she was wrong.

And by the time she’d gotten out of the shower, she’d also persuaded herself that Jason would never believe her.

But she’d told him anyway, because maybe the strange flash would explain something—

She hadn’t expected him to look at her with reluctant acceptance—as if he almost expected her answer.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said finally. “I remember Sam. But that doesn’t mean—”

Jason looked away, then nodded. “It makes sense,” he murmured. “In a horrible way. It’s not like we don’t both know that Sam, when she feels justified, is capable of cruelty.”

“And you think she’d be justified in not only killing Franco, but letting me go down for it?” Elizabeth said, her throat thick. She looked away, tears stinging her eyes. She’d forgotten—somehow, in all the craziness—

She’d forgotten that Jason’s last memory of her would be that lie. That terrible, haunting lie about Danny. She hadn’t just kept Sam’s child from her—she’d ended up keeping Jason’s son away from him.

And maybe that had occurred to him—

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Jason said flatly. “I said she’d feel justified. Not that she’d be right.” He clenched his fist at his side. “Why would you ever think I’d let someone get away with doing this to you—”

“Because it wouldn’t be the first time,” Elizabeth said without thinking. “You made sure Courtney got away with blinding me.” Jason flinched, then stepped back from her.

“That’s—”

“Different? To you. Not to me.” Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair, took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she repeated when he said nothing. “I’m not—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I think the boys and I should—we should go. When Cameron wakes up, I’ll—I’ll find somewhere else—maybe we can go to Laura’s—”

She turned to leave, but Jason stepped in front of her—blocking her exit. “No. Okay. You’re right. And I know things are complicated with Sam. The things she’s done in the past to you, and—” He looked at Jake who was helping Aiden with the video game controller. “The things she’s done to the boys—”

“You married her, Jason. I know you forgave her—”

“But you didn’t.”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “All of that’s ancient history,” she said finally. “Right now, I need to know who’s trying to hurt me today. And while yes, Sam and I have tormented and hurt each other in the past—I’m willing to admit that my memory might be flawed—”

“Diane is tracking Sam down now,” Jason said. When she stared at him, he sighed. “You’re not wrong to think of Sam as someone who would hurt you. Who wants Franco dead. She’s the only person on both of those lists. So Diane is already checking.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Okay, then.”

“Laura called while you were asleep. And—” Jason hesitated. “Don’t go. You and the boys—you’re safe here—”

“I really hate that word,” Elizabeth muttered as she walked away from him as he stared after her, bewildered by the turn in the conversation.

“Elizabeth—”

She picked up her phone and winced. “I have a lot of missed calls,” she murmured. “I should get to them. Laura’s probably worried sick about Aiden.”

The conversation was clearly over, so Jason nodded. “Okay. I need to run out and take care of some things. I’ll check in with Diane. Call me if you need anything.”

——

Jason would never be comfortable looking at or talking to Drew Cain, the man who had—until eight months ago—been living Jason’s life. Raising his sons. Married to his wife. He’d been Jason Morgan, and, thanks to the memories still in his brain—still was.

Drew glanced up at him when Jason came to the office door at Aurora, and he shot to his feet. “I’ve been calling Elizabeth all day, but it keeps going to voicemail.” He stalked around the desk. “The news reports said the boys were missing, but—”

“They’re fine. Elizabeth panicked, sent Cameron with the boys to Canada.” Jason exhaled slowly, but then decided that Drew should probably have the full story.

So he told him everything—from the call in the middle of the night, to the scene at Elizabeth’s house, the drive to get the boys—and what had happened that morning.

Drew listened to it all, then closed his eyes when Jason finished with Elizabeth’s memory flash of Sam in the kitchen with her. “You think Sam did this.”

Jason hesitated—because Drew’s reaction wasn’t the denial he’d expected. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t want to, but Elizabeth remembers her. And it—I don’t know. I can’t see anyone killing Franco then going to the trouble of setting up Elizabeth.”

“If someone wanted him dead, there were easier ways,” Drew admitted. He dragged his hand across his face. “The thing is—I think—no, I know it’s possible.”

Jason blinked. “What? Why?”

“Because Sam wanted the divorce. Not me,” Drew clarified. “I thought she was leaving me for you—but then she left town. And I haven’t heard from her since. She hasn’t called Scout or Danny. I don’t—I can’t quite believe she’d put the kids through all of this if something wasn’t wrong.”

“Sam left almost a month ago. Why didn’t you say something?” Jason demanded.

“Because she left me,” Drew bit out. “And it was none of your damn business.”

“I—” Jason swore, then dug out his phone. He swore when he read the text message — “The PCPD is on their way to my place with an arrest warrant for Cameron.”