Previously:

While on the run, Giselle broke into a Catholic Church and met Father Bartlett, a kind priest who counseled her. He informed her that the police were after Erin Emery for Monique's murder. Though stunned by the news, Giselle was relieved to learn the truth and was ready to return home.

Sonya was attacked by Erin Emery during her reign of terror but was on the path to recovery.

Charlie struggled with the loss of his wife and daughter, but it was Elisabeth who got a surprise call from Erin. Her sister begged Elisabeth for help, afraid she might hurt someone again.

 

Ormand Manor - Outside

At the end of the winding drive, a dark sedan sat parked on the street. Giselle Ormand Guthrie was in the passenger seat, shielding her eyes against the mid-morning sun as she took in the sight of her home. At long last, she'd made it home!

"It's breathtaking," Liam Bartlett said, as taken by the sight as Giselle, herself. When Giselle decided she wanted to return home, the Catholic priest of St. Magdalene's offered to accompany her.

They'd become good friends -- maybe not friends, but a closer relationship than Giselle had forged in many years -- over the course of her stay at the church. He counseled her, and she confided in him. One of the primary draws of his friendship was the fact that Giselle could tell him anything, whatever she wanted, and know with a certainty that her secrets would be safe.

As thrilled as she was to see her own home once more, to be reunited with her family again, a part of her didn't want to leave St. Magdalene's. Life was so much easier, so much quieter when she was cloistered away from the world.

And not only that ... leaving meant she would have to leave Father Bartlett, too.

"Father, thank you for everything you've done for me. I'm not sure I would have had the strength to get through this without you."

"Of course you would have, Giselle. And please, call me Liam. I like to think we've become familiar enough with one another for you to be comfortable using my name out of the church."

"We have." She patted his hand. "You've been wonderful to me, Liam." Giselle opened the car door, but hesitated to exit.

"Shall I bring you closer to the door?" he asked, his hands taking the wheel.

"No, that's all right," Giselle decided, shaking her head sadly. "I just needed one more moment. I needed to take it all in -- to enjoy this last moment of peace with you before I go back to way things were."

"You know where to find me if you're ever in need of my counsel. And even if you aren't, I do hope you'll keep in touch. You've made quite an impression on me. You're a living legend, Ms. Ormand."

"I thought we were finished with the formalities?" Giselle said, resting a hand over her heart as her cheeks betrayed the faintest blush.

"Of course. Giselle," he corrected, his smile lines deepening. "And now I'm afraid it's time for us to say our goodbyes."

Giselle raised her chin and extended her hand, but Liam Bartlett instead took her into his arms, wrapping her in a warm embrace. Giselle was taken aback, her first thought of his presumptuousness. And for a Catholic priest, no less! But all of that quickly faded when she found herself nestling her cheek into his shoulder.

"I must be going!" she chirped, realizing what she was doing and hopping out of the car. "Goodbye, Liam, and thank you for ... for everything!" she said, tears in the corners of her eyes and flustered by her own foreign emotions.

"Be strong, and let God light your path," he said, slowly driving off. Giselle watched until he rounded a corner, his dark car vanishing into a sea of pines.

Once he was gone, Giselle found herself staring up at the manor. The warmth she felt inside was sapped by the cold air -- and by what she knew would come next.

 

Magnolia Street - Sonya's House

It was a chilly, late autumn morning, an icy wind nipping the trees that lined the street. A car pulled into the drive at Sonya Cortes's house, carrying a swirl of dead leaves in its wake. After coming to a stop, Jasper Kent stepped out, opening the rear door to release a chocolate labrador. The dog dove into the grass, rustling and bounding away, tearing into the leaves covering the front lawn. Jasper had been taking care of Sonya's dog since her hospitalization, but Jinx was more than ready to be back home. So was Sonya.

"Are you going to help me out or what?" she piped up. "I can't believe my dog's the one getting all the special treatment around here."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Jasper said with a chuckle, setting Sonya's wheelchair up next to the passenger's door. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded and he wrapped his arms around her, a sort of awkward hug, before depositing her in her seat.

"Thanks for hauling me home," she said, smiling.

"My pleasure. I'm just glad you're finally out of that place."

"Me too," Sonya agreed, a dreamy smile on her face. She'd never been so happy to see her own home. Anything was better than the depressing white walls of the hospital room she'd been confined to for the past two weeks. She watched Jinx rolling around in the grass. "It seems like it's been so long ... I'm surprised Jinx remembers he lives here."

"Oh, he remembers," Jasper said. The dog heard his name and came back to lick the palm of Sonya's hand. "He missed you, too."

"He'd better," she said, grinning as she scratched his ears.

Jasper took the handles of her wheelchair and helped her into the house. Jinx left to investigate, while Jasper hung in the entryway. "You'll need some groceries, right?" Jasper said, looking around the living room, the dining room, then back to Sonya. "Is there anything else I can get for your big homecoming?"

"Would a sparkly dress and a tiara be too much to ask?"

"What?" Jasper asked, confused for a second. "Oh ... Homecoming ... right." His smile faltered a bit. "But really, is there anything else you need right now?"

"I--I don't know," she said, biting her lip as she looked around the house. She didn't remember what she had on hand. "I forget."

But when Sonya looked around, all she could see were reminders. Someone had cleaned the place up, almost surgically clean now. Former crime scene clean, she thought morbidly. But she couldn't forget what had happened here. No wonder Jasper wasn't in a playful mood, no wonder he was desperate to drop her off and be on his way. Being here was probably the last place he wanted to be. Every inch of this house must be reminding him of Misty right now.

Sonya's eyes wandered to the floor near the kitchen. Was the blood still there? She couldn't see from where she was sitting, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Have they heard anything?" she asked suddenly, her eyes still fixed to that same patch of carpet. Was that a brownish spot there, or was she just imagining it? "Has anyone heard anything yet ... about Erin?"

Jasper gave her a stony look, but shook his head no. "They really don't know where to begin. She's long gone. She left us with nothing." He looked away from her, watching Jinx. The dog smelled the shampooed carpet with great interest.

Sonya saw Jasper reach for the door, his hand trembling against the knob. "Jasper, I'm so sorry," she said, her words a deep sigh. "I know how much you cared about her."

Jasper's eyes closed, his jaw clenched tight. He swallowed, then turned to her. "Call me if you think of anything I can bring to you," he said, pulling the door open.

She nodded her consent and he left, the cool air from the outdoors sending goosebumps up and down her arms. She rubbed at them, trying to warm her blood, but she couldn't get them to go away.

 

Ormand Manor - Dining Room

With Giselle out of the picture, breakfast at the Ormand Manor had become an uncomfortable affair. Vincent Guthrie sat alone at one end of the table. On a normal day, he would attempt to force his guests into civil conversation. He would ask them about their plans for the day, how they slept, their relationships ... but his guests rarely responded to his prompts, and to be honest, Vincent wasn't all that interesting in hearing their answers.

Today, however, Vincent didn't even bother to try. He sat in his usual seat, scowling over his paperwork and a fresh pastry.

His sister-in-law, Regina, and stepson, Remy, sat at the opposite end of the long table. They ignored Vincent and talked softly to one another.

Vincent took a bite while reading a particularly depressing monetary figure on his report. The food caught in his throat, and he began to cough. Remy and Regina dropped their conversation, and cast their glances down the table at him.

"Do I have to help him if he turns blue?" Remy asked his aunt.

Regina narrowed her eyes at Vincent. "Honestly, Vincent, could you be any more obnoxious? We were in the middle of a conversation!"

Remy and Regina laughed to one another, while Vincent managed to swallow down the lump in his throat and catch his breath. "The two of you are despicable," he sputtered. "You would have let me choke to death right in front of your eyes!"

Remy shrugged, not seeing the charge fit to deny.

Things had been quite hostile between Vincent and the rest of the family since he put his 'brilliant' plan into action. His plan had been to whisk Giselle off to a mental hospital instead of prison, which might not have been such a bad thing, if he hadn't also insisted upon barring the rest of the family from visiting her.

Of course, Vincent's reasoning was that they might upset her in her fragile mental state, or cause her to further incriminate herself by talking about Monique's murder. To Vincent, it was just safer for Giselle's future and pending trial for her to remain quiet. That was why he drugged her and had her sent to Castleton in the first place. Because of his concern for her.

But they were too foolish to see anything other than surface motives, and he'd given up trying to explain himself to them a long time ago.

Vincent grumbled at his papers once more.

"What are you tweaking out about today?" Remy asked, irritated that Vincent had to make such a spectacle out of his foul mood until someone paid attention to him.

"Oh, nothing," Vincent said. "What I'm 'tweaking out' about is the fact that my news broadcast has turned into amateur hour now that Charlie, Sonya, and Benton are all taking time off to deal with their ... personal issues," he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"To be fair, they're some pretty serious issues," Regina chimed in. "I'd say they're handling them as best they can."

"And I don't begrudge them that," Vincent said, "but I need them. I need their experience. I'm just trying to handle my business."

"And my business." Giselle Guthrie appeared behind him in the doorway. She came up behind her husband, folding her arms neatly across the back of his chair.

Everyone stared up at her, jaws dropping to the floor.

"Well, the Highwind is one less thing you'll have to worry about now," she said, caressing his cheek.

 

Highwind Crossings - Elisabeth's Apartment

With all of her belongings packed and piled in the center of her living room, Elisabeth Emery was surprised by how insignificant everything seemed. Her entire life, packed away in cardboard.

Of course, she'd have to leave the big things behind. The apartment was furnished when she moved in, so at least she wouldn't have to deal with those things, but really, she didn't have much to her name other than a few pairs of designer shoes.

It only made her decision to leave that much easier. If this was the entirety of her, the sum of her shallow existence, then why shouldn't she go? In leaving, she could truly be useful, helpful to someone who meant more to Elisabeth than her own life. In helping Erin, maybe she would finally have a purpose.

Elisabeth was finishing taping up the last of her boxes when her cell phone rang. She looked at the name and answered. "Don't try to talk me out of it."

"Hello to you, too," Abe Emery said, chuckling.

"Abe, I don't have time to chat. I've decided."

"You can't, Elisabeth," he said.

"She needs me!"

Elisabeth had called her brother and told Abe of her plan the night before. She was going to meet up with Erin. She was going to take care of her sister; move in with her, keep her in line, and hopefully keep her sane.

Abe thought it was a horrible idea, but he didn't know Erin the way she did. He didn't grow up with the two of them, so of course he couldn't understand. He tried to dissuade her from leaving. He begged her to take more time to think about it. To sleep on the decision, at least. So, Elisabeth had given him that much. But when she woke up in the morning, she knew she had to go. It was the only way to help Erin ... and to make sure she never did anything like this again.

"What if she tries to hurt you?" Abe asked with concern.

"She wouldn't," Elisabeth said, taping up the final box.

"You don't know that!" he argued passionately. "We don't know what she's thinking! She's already attacked her friends, innocent people who had nothing to do with her situation. What's to say she wouldn't do the same to you if she snaps again?"

"You're just making me mad now, Abe," Elisabeth said. She knew without a doubt that Erin would never do anything to harm her. No matter how crazy her sister was, she was sure that would never happen. "I shouldn't have told you..."

"No. I'm glad you did," he said, finally conceding to her. "Just ... be careful around her, okay? If you're dead set on doing this, you have to promise me you'll be careful. And call me all the time. If you don't check in, I swear I'll fly back there in a heartbeat."

"I will," she promised, surveying her apartment for one last time. "And don't forget, I told Remy I was going to stay with you and Priscilla. If he calls, or especially if Charlie calls--"

"I know, I know. But if he keeps calling, I can't make excuses for you forever."

"That's fine, as long as you never tell him where I've really gone."

"Which won't be a problem, since you haven't told me where you're going."

Elisabeth sighed. "Maybe it's better that you don't know."

"Elisabeth! You have to tell me where you're going. I have to know, in case anything happens or I need to come help you."

"I said I'd be fine."

"Tell me. I'm serious. Tell me where she is, or I'm not going to cover for you. I'll let you do this your way, as long as I know what's going on."

"Okay, fine," Elisabeth said, "I'll tell you."

She told him the truth. She told him where Erin was, and when he finally let her off the hook, she loaded her life into her car. As much as she wished she could stay in St. Laurent, she knew she was making the right decision.

 

Forest - Charlie's Cabin

Charlie Guthrie's log cabin wasn't the easiest place in the world to find. It wasn't quite backwoods enough to be considered unibombery, but Martine Guthrie still had to drive around the forest's tight, gravel path several times before finding the right fork in the road. She suspected that was one of its main draws for Charlie, who was becoming increasingly solitary and distant.

She parked her car and walked to the door, knocking lightly. There was no answer, at least not right away, but eventually Martine saw Charlie's face looking out the front window. A few moments later, he opened the door. "Sorry, I wasn't sure if I was just hearing things or not. You get a lot of strange noises out here, especially when you're by yourself."

She nodded, taking in his scruffy appearance.

"Come in," he said, opening the door wider to her. "What do you need?"

"I just ... came to see what you were doing." She stepped inside. "Tyson's out of town at one of his wilderness things. I guess I was lonely. You haven't been around the house much."

"Needed some time alone," he said, contemplative. "But thanks for checking up on me."

He may have been a little unkempt, but he wasn't the picture of drunken, depressed misery Martine had resigned herself to facing here. Maybe he was dealing with this, after all.

"What do people do out here, anyway?" she asked, wandering around the cabin's small living room. She walked to the open kitchen area, lifting a large skillet from the stove top and examining it. "What do you do when you're here?"

"I went fishing this morning. Didn't catch anything worth keeping though."

"Hmm, I could see how that might be ... fun," she grudgingly accepted. "But doesn't that get boring after about five minutes or so?"

"Sometimes. When they're not biting," he said with a smile. "Really, Martine, why the sudden interest? I doubt you're going to ask me to take you fly fishing, am I right?"

The very thought horrified her, and she was sure he could see it in her expression. "I don't think so. Okay, now that you've threatened me with that, I'll just come clean. I was worried about you."

"There's nothing to worry about," he said a little too quickly. "I'm fine. As fine as can be expected."

"Everything that's happened -- it's a lot to take in," she said with a sigh.

She felt Charlie watching her, silent and uneasy. Unreachable.

"How 'bout I make us some lunch?" he said, derailing her attempt at a serious discussion. He opened his refrigerator rifling through its contents, while Martine sat at the table.

She saw right through him, knew he was hiding inside himself. She only wished she could help him find his way back out. "Lunch sounds great."

Charlie was one of the few friends she had. He was one of the few people who looked out for her and asked nothing in return. He might not open up to her today, but he had to talk to someone eventually, didn't he? She wouldn't give up on him quite so easily.

 

Ormand Manor

"Giselle. My darling," Vincent stood to face his wife and Giselle, in turn, was quick to deliver a harsh slap in the face. Vincent's eyes flared. He gasped, a sharp intake of breath.

"How dare you," she said, the words dripping from her lips like venom from a snake's fang. "How dare you call me 'darling' after what you've done to me."

Vincent stood agape. Remy and Regina rushed to Giselle's side.

"Mom," Remy placed a hand on her shoulder ever so lightly, fearing he might be in for the same treatment from her. But Giselle didn't slap Remy. Instead, she pulled her youngest son into the tightest, more genuine hug he'd ever received from her.

"I missed you terribly," she said. Then, her voice barely a whisper, she added, "Everything I did was for you."

"I know that now, and I wish you hadn't," Remy said, his eyes stinging.

"In retrospect, it probably wasn't the wisest move," she agreed, finding humor in spite of the situation. "But how were we to know that Charlie's wife was a first-rate crackpot?"

"Giselle, we're so glad you've come home," Regina said, stepping in to greet her sister with a warm embrace.

Giselle looked over Regina's shoulder, leveling her eyes on Vincent, who wisely hung back from the reunion. "You're still here?" she asked him, casting Regina aside to face him down.

"Of course I am. I'm not going anywhere. I love you, and if you'll talk to me, we'll get this all sorted out."

"That's where you're wrong, darling," she said, licking her lips and savoring the delivery. "There's nothing to talk about. We're finished."

"Giselle, be reasonable. Let me explain my motivations. You don't know what I went through to protect you."

He took her hands in his own, but she wrenched them away immediately, her eyes burning into his. "What you went through?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Get out of my house, Vincent. I can't be bothered to spend another second with you."

A part of her was destroyed to cast aside a man she'd been so in love with, a man she'd wasted so many years on. But, she'd already come to terms with his betrayal. She'd had plenty of time to dwell on that fact while locked away at Castleton.

Giselle walked away, and as soon as she'd turned her back on him, she couldn't contain the triumphant smile that spread across her face, positively radiant in its pure maliciousness.

Yes, she'd promised Father Bartlett that she would forgive. She'd promised that she'd change -- turn a new leaf -- and she would make good on that promise. But not today.

Not today, and never again with Vincent Guthrie.