Written in 26 minutes. No time for edits.

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Elizabeth found Patrick Drake in his usual spot at General Hospital—in his office, scribbling on a patient’s chart and in a state of general irritation with anyone he didn’t think was as smart as he was.

“Hey, you.”

Patrick glanced up, ready to snarl at whomever was interrupting him—then his handsome face exploded into a grin. He shoved back from his desk and enveloped her in a hug. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I came to town for the funeral,” Elizabeth said, hugging him back, grateful for an uncomplicated, friendly face. She’d always liked Justus—but she could tell he was still gravitating towards Jason and that side of the fence.

Patrick Drake would always be on Elizabeth’s side. He’d been like a brother to her since he and Steven had completed their internship together at General Hospital and planned a takeover of the entire place — Steven would take over for their grandfather as Chief of Staff and Patrick would make the surgery department the best in the country—and Elizabeth would run the nursing program.

How quaint those dreams seemed now.

“Really?” Patrick lifted his brows as he drew back and gestured for her to sit on the sofa in his office. “I didn’t think you and Carly were that close.”

“We weren’t, but she was kind last year,” Elizabeth said simply. “And I wanted to check on Michael. I wasn’t sure if…” She bit her lip and looked at her hands. “I didn’t know if anyone would be able to find Jason.”

“Right.” Patrick leaned back against the arm. “Is he back, too?”

“Yeah. He is. Um, nothing—don’t worry. I’m not stupid about it,” she said. “Nothing’s changed. I know why he left, why he stayed out of touch, but it honestly doesn’t change much for me, you know?”

“Because he still left.” Patrick nodded. “What does Steven think?”

Elizabeth frowned at him. “He—I haven’t—” She cleared her throat. “That’s why I’m here, Patrick. Because I haven’t heard from Steven in a week. I came down to find out what’s going on. I called the hospital and he hasn’t been here either—”

Patrick frowned, tipping his head. “Well, no, he took some time off two weeks ago. But maybe that didn’t get down the grapevine.” He grimaced. “But—maybe that explains the message he left me a few days ago—”

“A few—” Elizabeth reached out, grabbed his wrist. “What do you mean? What did he say? How long ago exactly?”

“Wednesday,” Patrick told her. “He left me a voicemail in the middle of the night, telling me to send you back to Boston. I didn’t—I didn’t think about it much. I had two surgeries that day, and I thought Steven was with you. He said he was taking time to deal with family stuff, and you’re the only family he gives a damn about.”

Patrick got to his feet and went over to his desk to get his phone, then hesitated. He looked at her. “He never came to see you?”

“No. And if he left a message on Wednesday—he was still alive.” Elizabeth felt something release inside of her. “Oh, God. Thank God. I was so scared—no one else has even heard from him since Carly was found—but you talked to him—” Patrick had heard from her brother the day before yesterday—

“Why would he come to see me?” Elizabeth asked. “I was planning to come here in a week or so. For, um…” She twisted her wedding ring. “My divorce is almost final, and I wanted to clean out Lily’s room.”

“Right.” Patrick exhaled slowly, then went to sit behind his desk. “It’s been a year already. It doesn’t seem that way, you know?” He was quiet for a moment. “You know, Steven must have been thinking about it, though. He was trying to find the doctor who delivered her.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What—no—why? Why would—”

“I don’t know. Maybe—you know, Dr. Quartermaine is thinking of retiring soon, and Steven should be stepping up. I know he was thinking of quitting the moonlighting he was doing for Sonny. He only stayed for you. Maybe he was just…tying up loose ends.”

“Patrick—why would he need to find Kelly? She still works—” When Patrick met her eyes, Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “Kelly doesn’t work here?” Elizabeth had left the hospital the year earlier, unable to continue working in the place where her daughter had died.

“No. Kelly left about a month after you did. I always figured because she blamed herself. It—it was a rough delivery. You know—or maybe you don’t. You were hurt, too, and you needed surgery. I think Kelly blamed herself—maybe she went too fast—something she did—” Patrick sighed.

Elizabeth couldn’t breathe. “How could she blame herself?” she asked softly. “Lily—she was stillborn. She was—she was gone before I came to the hospital—”

None of this was making sense. Kelly had told her—

“I—” Patrick grimaced. “Maybe I’m remembering it wrong. But the paperwork I saw—Lily died a few hours later. While you were in surgery—”

“No! Jason told me he—” Elizabeth slapped a hand on his desk, forcing him to look at her. “Jason saw her. I have a photograph of her—” Her voice broke. “Jason or Steven—or Emily—someone would known she lived that long—”

“Okay, okay—” Patrick held up his hands. He turned to his computer. “Let me look it up. I can just—” He frowned.

Elizabeth darted around the desk to see the monitor and her heart sank. Because Patrick had been wrong. “See, it says it there,” she gestured. “Stillborn.”

“Yeah—but—” Patrick shook his head. “Wait—wait—” He typed a few more keys. “No—no, this isn’t right. How—”

He scowled and got to his feet. “Come on, let’s go downstairs to the file room. Where we keep the paper files.”

“Patrick, what are you looking for?” Elizabeth demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Just—” He walked out of the offie, and she scurried after him, surprised when he took the steps.

“Damn it, wait—”

She caught up to him two floors later, her shorter legs making it harder to match his longer stride. He was already in the archives, searching for the right cabinet. “Patrick—”

He pulled out the file, then scowled. “This is wrong. The blood type doesn’t match—and—there’s no—there’s no cause of death. Or time of death.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her breathing catching in her throat. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“This file doesn’t say anything about Lily’s death,” Patrick muttered. He gave her the file, then looked in another cabinet. “Here—I knew I remembered—another baby was born that day—” He pulled out the file. “This baby was born stillborn, due to placenta previa. The placenta separated and the baby lost too much oxygen.”

He stared it for a long moment, swallowing hard before looking up at her. “Two babies born that day, both delivered by Kelly Lee. A stillborn and a live baby girl. I remember—I knew Lily had been alive. You were in surgery, Jason was getting stitched up, and the PCPD grabbed them—Steven took that picture of Lily, but she wasn’t dead in that photo, Elizabeth. She was alive. He wanted you to see her—”

“But—”

“But then she died,” Patrick continued. “And I guess—I never asked. I never talked to Steven about it, and we didn’t talk about Lily. You know?”

Elizabeth pressed her fist to her mouth. “Patrick. Patrick, is my little girl alive?”

——

At the penthouse, Jason shoved the door open, so irritated and frustrated from his meeting with Emily that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone in the penthouse.

Across the room, sprawled out on the ground—lay the still form of Sonny Corinthos.

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