Trust No One

Part 1 - Chapters 1 to 8

Wednesday, October 14, 2026

A woman sprints barefoot through woods at midnight, fleeing Hale House toward the caretaker's cottage. She's consumed tea and cookies less than an hour earlier, and now violent spasms rack her frame. She knows she shouldn't have gone back, shouldn't have gotten greedy. Now it will cost her everything.

She reaches the creek and tries to cross, but mud sucks at her foot and drags her down. She wrenches free but loses all reserves. On the far bank, she vomits, her heart falters, her vision dims. A flashlight cuts through the trees. A hooded figure leans close, kicks her leg to test if she's alive. Then a rag presses against her nose. Darkness swallows her whole.

Chapter One: Maria

Friday evening, Maria sits across from her husband Gabe at dinner in Crozet, Virginia. She both hates and loves him. Gabe has ruined them repeatedly with terrible choices and broken promises.

They met in middle school when his mother took a job managing Hale House, the historic estate where Maria played with her cousin Raine. Gabe chose Maria over Raine. Now, after eighteen months of his imprisonment for assault, mounting debt, and his struggling landscaping business, she sees everything else too.

Gabe claims he has two new contracts that will solve their money problems. But Maria knows the truth. She planted an AirTag in his car and watched him kiss a blond woman named Amy at her townhouse doorway. What irritates Maria most isn't the affair itself but that she stood by him through prison, debt, and failures.

She confronts him about withdrawing their entire savings account two days ago. She reveals she knows about Amy, about the changed passcode on his phone, about the messages she read while he was passed out. His mask slips.

Mid-confrontation, Maria's body betrays her. Her mouth sweats, her vision blurs, her heart rate doubles. She stumbles, knocks the pasta bowl to the floor where it shatters. Gabe's face hovers above her as she falls, hitting her head on the counter. She manages one word: "Help."

Chapter Two: Raine

At 1:00 a.m. Saturday, Raine Hale's phone won't stop ringing. Dr. Webber from the University of Virginia Medical Center informs her that Maria has suffered a heart attack and is in grave condition. Raine is Maria's emergency contact, but they haven't spoken in over a year, not since Maria filed a lawsuit claiming she was owed a portion of the Hale House estate.

Raine is staying at Hale House, her family's crumbling estate, having taken leave from her public defender job and separated from her husband Ken in Alexandria. She's on the brink of divorce and returned alone to the one place she never wanted to be. Three weeks ago, one of her public defender clients beat her badly enough to hospitalize her.

She drives through quiet, empty roads toward Charlottesville. Life always has a twist up its sleeve, and her return to Hale House was the last one.

Saturday, October 17, 2026, 2:15 a.m., Charlottesville

At the nurses' station, Raine learns Maria is on a ventilator and that Agent Blackwood wants all visitors cleared with him. Judson Blackwood. They dated senior year of high school. He played football at James Madison until an injury ended his NFL hopes, then joined the Virginia State Police.

Judson appears behind her, tall and lean with broad shoulders, gray peppering his hair, a gun holster on his belt. He escorts her to the waiting area and delivers the facts clinically. Gabe called 9-1-1 at approximately 8:00 p.m., reported his wife had passed out and wasn't breathing, performed CPR until paramedics arrived. Dr. Webber determined cardiac arrest. Judson's look feels like an accusation.

Raine insists Maria is healthy. Judson says toxicology screens are running. When she questions why state police care about an overdose, he explains Sheriff Puckett called him. The Hale name gets attention. And Maria and Gabe are his friends.

He leads her to the ICU. In Room #3, Maria lies still and pale, a respirator in her mouth, IVs running from withering arms. Raine's last time here was at fifteen, when her father died of a heart attack.

She squeezes Maria's icy hand. Judson confirms they're testing for fentanyl, heroin, cocaine, barbiturates. Raine tells Maria she'll be back, then meets Judson in the hallway. She calls Edith, Gabe's mother, but gets voicemail. Judson mentions Gabe told the responding officer he was taking his daughter to his mother's house, and a deputy followed him.

Raine asks if Gabe is a threat. Judson says he's assuming Gabe isn't thinking clearly, and scared animals can be rash and dangerous.

Judson asks Raine if she is at Hale House alone and if Ken came with her. Raine says she and Ken are getting a divorce. Judson searches her face, maybe looking for grief or pain, but she is all out. He asks how it is. Mostly she is drinking wine and avoiding darkened corners and ghosts. She says it is fine. His brown eyes narrow, but he does not press. She calls Edith again. No answer. Judson calls the officer on duty. Gabe just left Edith's house, and the officer is following him here. Molly is with her grandmother. Gabe's lack of urgency is not just suspicious. It is unacceptable. He should be here, dealing with doctors, holding his wife's hand, answering Judson's questions. Frustration tightens Judson's jaw. Gabe is testing the bounds of his patience.

Raine asks if Judson thinks Gabe had anything to do with this. Judson notes it is no secret Gabe's business has financial problems. He owes half the town for supplies or wages. Raine asks if he poisoned his wife. Judson says he does not know anything for sure, but he has theories. Raine asks why poison Maria. She is not a wealthy woman. She is a nurse. Judson points out she is also a Hale, and the Hale land is worth a fortune. Raine says the Hale lands are in a trust. She is the sole beneficiary. Maria's lawsuit contests the ironclad setup, and even in the event of her death, Gabe could uphold the suit on Molly's behalf. Judson asks if Raine dies, who gets the property. Raine says once her divorce is final and Ken has no claim on her assets, it would go to Molly. Not Maria. They have not spoken in over a year. Judson asks why. Money. Maria wanted another loan. Raine made Maria several large loans. When Raine asked for an accounting of the monies, Maria refused. Now Maria is suing the estate. Judson asks how much the Hale land is worth. Raine says hundreds of millions of dollars if she sold it all. Judson asks if she has plans to do that. She grimaces. Ken has asked that several times. Raine says she does not know. She needs to determine what it will cost to save the property. Judson calls it a hell of a commitment. The lawyers are advising she sell. Seventeen years ago, she walked away from the rolling green hills soaked with Hale blood and a legacy spanning generations. But when her life crumbled, she realized roots and history mattered. So she is back, wondering how much blood and sacrifice she is willing to give to Hale House. Judson asks how much Maria is suing her for. She wants half. Raine's lawyer thinks Maria is angling for a payout, and if Raine pays her off, she will drop the suit. Maria has forgotten that Raine made her daughter Molly her heir. Judson asks why Raine made Molly her beneficiary. She and Molly are the last Hales. Blood matters to her family. Judson notes it is over a decade before Molly is of age. Whoever has custody of the child controls the estate. Raine confirms. So many generations of Hales on this land, and that revered legacy rests on her shoulders and those of one little girl. Anger leaks out. Raine says Gabe loves his wife. He would never take Molly's mother away. Judson says it is better to think this way now, so they can clear Gabe as a suspect. He has always liked the guy. Raine asks when he got back. Judson says a year ago. He studies her. He thought she would never come back. She says life changes. He heard something about an assault. Raine says three weeks ago, a client attacked her. Pete Miller launched himself over the table. In the seconds before the cops pulled him off, he left her with cracked ribs, a crushed windpipe, and a bruised cheekbone. She took it as a sign to refocus. Judson asks where Ken was during all this. She says surprisingly kind and helpful. Ken tried to tighten the fraying tethers between them. But now she is here and ready to move forward. Judson says near death, divorce, resurrecting a crumbling house. She makes it sound easy. Easy? Easy is the hardest kind of work. She says Hales can keep up appearances. Judson says it is good to have her back. His smile does not jibe with his hardening eyes. She thanks him. Logically, she understands their high school relationship is truly over

Part 2 - Chapters 9 to 13

Jupson

The Durant house sits in the northeast corner of the Hale property, and by nine in the morning on Saturday, October 17, it has become a crime scene. A police vehicle is parked out front. A forensic truck idles in the driveway. Maria's white minivan is there too, a car seat covered in crumbs secured to the back seat. Judson got a warrant for the house and vehicles without much trouble. The judge is ninety percent certain this is a tragic medical emergency, the kind of thing that happens to a distance runner in peak health. But the other ten percent nags at Judson. If a Hale has been poisoned, the judge doesn't want blowback for missing it.

He thinks about the dinner he finally had with Gabe and Maria four weeks ago, after months of postponements blamed on Gabe's work. The air between the couple crackled. Gabe handed him a beer by the grill and mentioned he'd been getting leads from Ken Watson. Ken. Raine's husband. Soon-to-be ex-husband. Judson has known Gabe and Ken since high school, when they played on the offensive line together. Gabe was the natural athlete who missed practice with good explanations, though Judson knew the real reason was Maria. Ken was the wide receiver who partied more than he trained. Judson kept his mouth shut and poured his rage and grief into the brutal practices. Football and Crozet were the glue that held them together. Once that was gone, so were they.

With Raine, he told himself the glue was sex, a cheap fix for belonging. The truth is his feelings veered too close to obsession, and what felt solid crumbled for her under pressure. He figured whatever they had was long dead. But this morning, the old pull is back. He remembers meeting her on a delivery run to Hale House, when she was cutting grass on a riding mower, sweat soaking her tee, and she waved but kept driving. He joked she didn't look like a princess. She asked if it was the sweat or the grass stains that gave her away. Weeks later, he saw her cleaned up in town and threw a Hail Mary, asking her out. She said yes. She was funny, smart, self-deprecating. Their first time was on a blanket in her family's barn. He asked why she left boarding school. She blamed family finances. It didn't ring true, but he didn't press.

He shoves the memory aside and pulls on PPE gloves and shoe covers. Agent Meg Pollard is working the scene. The warrant is limited for now, just the kitchen, the medicine cabinets, anything in the open. The kitchen still holds the remnants of dinner: rumpled place mats, half-eaten Italian bread, wilting salad, shattered plate shards, noodles all over the floor. Blood speckles the counter and floor where Maria collapsed, hitting her head on the way down. Two drinking glasses sit on the counter, one nearly full and one empty with a lipstick smudge. Judson tells Meg to log them. The kitchen window overlooks fields of tall uncut grass, and just over the hill is Hale House. Raine let the Durants live rent-free in the cottage until Gabe got back on his feet. That was four years ago.

In Molly's bedroom, painted pink with a big M on the wall, stuffed animals scatter the floor. Judson pictures Gabe knocking toys aside to scoop up his daughter. The primary bedroom tells a different story. The bed has smooth covers on the right and rumpled sheets on the left. Dirty work jeans, socks, and nursing scrubs pile beside an overflowing laundry basket. On Gabe's nightstand are two medicine bottles, one for anxiety medication and one for a tranquilizer. The bathroom is in disarray, wet towels on the floor, the bathtub ringed with dirt, the trash can overflowing. The medicine cabinet holds nothing unusual, nothing indicating heart issues. The house Judson remembers from dinner looked like a perfect family home. But he sees the warning signs now. The laughter was too sharp. The smiles held a beat too long.

The Search Continues

By afternoon, Meg is swabbing the sink. Maria's phone has been bagged. Judson asks about the chances a woman like Maria would have a heart attack. She was a distance runner, in good shape, but unlikely doesn't mean impossible. He tells Meg to watch for health monitors, apps, anything suggesting illness. He's going to interview Maria's mother-in-law.

At the hospital, Maria remains in a coma but alive. The charge nurse says Raine Hale paced the hallway, but Gabe hasn't reappeared. His second absence suggests trouble. Is he running scared? He did time for a violent assault, and disappearing acts aren't a good look for a man whose wife is in critical condition.

Judson drives to the wooded access road leading to the horse trainer's cottage where Edith Durant lives. In the Hale family's heyday, they employed a dozen people. Now Edith lives rent-free but no longer receives a salary. She was a property manager, overseeing yard crews and housekeepers. Gabe was the lawn crew in those days, and he dropped the ball. Now that Raine is back, Edith's position will change. The property is too large and valuable to leave in one person's care. Judson bets Raine will sell. Edith and her family face eviction.

Edith opens the door, relieved to see him but worried about Maria. A little girl's giggle drifts from the other room. Molly thinks she's having a sleepover. Edith hasn't told her anything. Judson asks if Gabe is here. No, he left for the hospital last night. He hasn't been seen since early this morning. Edith offers to let him search but he declines. She says Gabe doesn't handle tough situations well. He takes off, drinks. He did that in high school after bad games or fights with Maria. She says she hasn't seen much of Maria and Gabe in the last few months. Gabe said a contract didn't come through, probably due to his prison record.

When Judson asks about marriage troubles, Edith bristles. Couples argue, but her son and his wife adore each other. She says she'd have sensed if something was off. Maria was in peak health when Edith babysat Molly during a marathon in early summer. No heart issues, no clues of trouble. Judson asks if Gabe was seeing anyone else. Edith says her son is a good man, but if she had to bet, Maria was the one cheating. She's selfish. She'd rather enter a race than spend a day off with Molly.

Judson doesn't take the bait. He tells Edith that Gabe is in the wind, and it doesn't look good for him. She accuses him of treating Gabe like a suspect when there's been no crime. He says the preliminary tox screens will be back today. He's trying to help, but he needs Gabe to answer his questions. Edith says Gabe hasn't gone far, he's found a quiet place to process. Eighteen months of jail time changed him. He was in a bar, a few beers in, when another guy picked a fight. Gabe beat him unconscious and left him disabled. Four years, reduced to eighteen months when Raine called her family attorney.

Molly runs into the room, asking for juice. She stares at Judson and says her daddy is on vacation with Mommy, hiking in the mountains. Daddy loves to go. It helps him think. Edith leads the girl to the kitchen. Judson hopes he won't have to press the child for more details. He wants Gabe to call back, the tox screens to be clean, Maria to wake up. Edith returns and tells him to leave before Molly figures out there's a problem. He hands her his card. She flicks the edge and says Gabe didn't do anything wrong, he's just worried. Judson says he's taking it slow out of respect, but if the tox screens come back positive and Gabe is still missing, his attitude will shift into a higher gear. Edith demands to know if he's treating them like he's the police. He tells her he is the police. Tell Gabe to call him.

Raine

When Raine leaves for Hale House, the adrenaline is gone, replaced with cold, grim determination. She hasn't slept well in months. The divorce, the lawsuit, the attack. It all presses down on her. The long graveled driveway winds past hundred-year-old oaks, the sun casting oranges and yellows on tall grass. Hale House rises ahead, regal, weathered, crumbling. Her father believed the house and the family were one. When one fell, the other would too. So far, he's been right.

Beyond the house, a freshly cut patch of grass tunnels toward the cemetery's wrought iron fence. Her father had it expanded twenty-five years ago, wanting more room for himself, Mom, Raine, and her children. After the contractors left, Raine lay down in the spot her father selected as her final resting place. She didn't love it. Too shady in summer, too many leaves in fall. Two years later, her father dropped the headstones in place. Three years after that, he was dead. She's decided she'll be cremated instead, her ashes spread so the wind will carry them away. Tomorrow, the contractor Brad Lawson comes to walk the property with her, the first step in deciding what to do with it all.

Part 3 - Chapters 14 to 18

The gravel pops under the SUV's wheels as Raine drives up to Hale House, where a light clicks on in her mother's old bedroom. She hasn't set foot in that room in years, but tells herself faulty wiring explains it. The house is twenty years past an upgrade. Inside, the bedroom light bleeds under the door. The entry chandelier stays dead when she flips the switch, but other switches work. In the kitchen, she fills a copper kettle and stares out at the family graveyard beyond the grove of trees. The light in Mom's room was always on. She hated the darkness. Amy learned that lesson quickly the first time she shut it off, and Mom's screams could wake the dead.

Amy comes back into Raine's head now after years. Amy was awed by Hale House, the grand foyer, the checkered floor, the oil portraits. She didn't see shadows or smell sadness. She saw old money, luxury, stability. Her fingers ran over the banister, her gaze dancing with excitement as she staked her claim on the Hale household. Raine led her upstairs past Mom's locked room to a small room with a Queen Anne four-poster bed. Amy smoothed a reverent hand over the chenille bedspread and said it looked like it belonged to a princess. Her enthusiasm was charming, harmless then, and Raine was grateful for the nighttime help. Weeks later, Maria cornered Raine in the kitchen, saying she thought Amy was stealing, wearing Raine's clothes to school, and that she'd found her in Raine's room looking around. Maria didn't trust her. Raine did.

The teakettle shrills. A fist pounds against the front door, and through the glass panes she catches Judson's profile. He towers over her, biceps twice the size from when he played ball. He says he's checking on her, but Judson is a cop first. He wants an update on Gabe. She tells him she dropped Gabe at his mother's house and they'll visit Maria in the morning. He asks if she's his attorney now. She says there's no formal arrangement, she's helping a friend. When he asks why Gabe needs a lawyer's help, she says once the cuffs go on, a smart guy lets the lawyer do the talking. Then Judson drops that Ken texted him. Her soon-to-be ex has been in contact about Gabe, wanting to help, though with Ken there's always a second motive. Judson nods toward the entryway and asks how the house is holding up. She calls it a money pit. She dreams of saving it, but reality trails off. Judson walks the Hale property from time to time; abandoned acreage attracts trouble. He's found illegal dumping spots, discarded tents and campsites. Squatters on her land, no sign of anyone in or near the house, other than the light. No broken windows. Judson warns that her return is bound to catch someone off guard, to keep her doors locked and attention sharp. This place had felt like the end of the world when she was a kid. Now the world has found her here, and she hates that even more.

Judson asks about home protection. She has a handgun in her bedroom nightstand, not loaded, but bullets in the drawer beside it. He tells her to keep it close. For a moment, their easy familiarity shines under seventeen years of dust. She asks if he found anything at the Durant house, and a faint smile tugs his lips as he says she knows he can't tell her that. She tries anyway. He's not discussing evidence with her now. If she takes Gabe on as a client, he'll provide what's mandated by law, but when it comes to this case, they aren't friends. She asks about outside the case. He studies her and says he has fond memories of her, this place. They were good until they weren't, and that's worth something. She asks if he's not the sentimental sort. His fingers clench and relax at his side as he says he hangs on to what works and cuts loose what doesn't. That stings. She tells him she'll see him around. He says she can count on it. She once believed monsters only lived in stories. Now she knows better.

Sunday morning at six, Hale House groans like an old man riddled with pain. Wind rattles brittle windows. Raine's brain won't stop buzzing. Last night's half bottle of wine tempts her, but she needs a clear head. The shower sputters out tepid water and she quickly washes away the hospital. Dressed in a heavy lime sweater, jeans, and socks, wet hair twisted into a knot, she hurries past sullen ancestors down the narrow back staircase to the kitchen. Out the window, heavy mist hovers over the back lawn, and something moves in the fog, just a flicker. Judson's warning of squatters reminds her she isn't so alone out here, but the haze steadies and stills. She grabs coffee grounds, filters, and a clean cup, wondering who stocked the supplies. Edith? Maria? Gabe? No one knew she was returning to Hale House. The coffee is bad, and she tosses the remains in the sink.

She slides on her down jacket, shoulders her purse, and hurries out the front door, locking it and double-checking the dead bolt. The engine fires, heat blasts cold air over her damp hair, and a headache thuds behind her right eye. She downs two aspirin and noses the car toward the gate. The five-mile stretch of rural two-lane road is empty, and she revs to seventy, barreling past ruby-red and golden trees. When Maria and Raine were teenagers, this was their favorite stretch. Windows open, air blowing their hair, Maria would crank the radio and demand Raine drive faster. A few times a deputy pulled her over, but the Hale name was her get-out-of-jail-free card. Maria wished her last name was Hale. Raine's father's sister, Maria's mother Rene, had married a Cooper. Hale was Maria's middle name, but as Mom said, it wasn't the same. The Hale name carried weight in this valley, and Cooper didn't.

Raine calls Gabe and tells him she's headed to Edith's house, will pick him up in ten minutes. He says Molly had a rough night and just fell asleep. She says she's sorry but he should see Maria. He says he'll be at the hospital in an hour. She grips the steering wheel and tells him not to bail on her, not to be late. He says he won't. Gabe spent last night in a cell, and Raine wonders if it changed anything for him. She stops at a gas station, fills up, and hurries inside to pay. The old man working the counter eyes her, recognizes her, and has always made it clear he didn't like the Hales, claiming her father stiffed him on a car repair bill. She pays and crams a twenty in the tip cup. If the valley didn't know she was back, they would soon.

The hospital floor smells like the previous day, antiseptic and fear. An alarm buzzes somewhere, and no one is at the nurses' station. When Raine pushes back Maria's curtain, she finds an empty bed. Flowers and cards from coworkers line the table by the window. The dry-erase chart still lists Maria Durant, and the bag of her belongings remains in the corner. The sheets are still warm from Maria's body. Had she rolled in seconds after Maria coded? Was that lingering alarm for her? Her stomach drops. From Dr. Webber's first call, Raine hadn't believed Maria could die. She'd made it to the hospital, and hospitals save lives. Maria was young, healthy. She would beat this. This was supposed to be their wake-up call. Maria and Raine were blood, thicker than water. They'd mend the divide and return to the friendship they'd had as kids. And now what? When her father died in the emergency room, devastation and confusion rushed her. Just two hours earlier, she'd passed him in the kitchen. Newspaper, coffee, buttered toast on a rose china plate. He'd smiled. She kissed him, remembered the scent of his aftershave.

The curtain whooshes behind her. A short man with thick hair in scrubs, surprised to see her, his name tag reading Dan Fitzcerato, a physician's assistant. He asks who she is. She says Raine Hale and demands to know where Maria Durant is. Dan holds up a hand and says she's been moved to another floor. Why? She doesn't need to be in ICU. Her vitals are improving. Relief cuts through the numbness. When did this happen? They just moved her. She asks if anyone knows what caused the heart attack. That's a conversation for Dr. Webber. He reaches for the bag of Maria's clothes. Raine grabs the cards and flowers and asks to see Maria. He says sure, she should be settled now. Has she woken up? She's more responsive, but not fully awake. His smile wanes. She's heading in the right direction. But waking up doesn't mean recovered. Raine says Mrs. Durant's husband will be here this morning. She asks if they'll direct him to her new room. Yes. And the doctor? She'll be making rounds soon.

Part 4 - Chapters 19 to 25

Raine pulls into Hale House on Sunday, October 18, at eight in the evening, groceries in one hand and phone flashlight in the other. The house has always felt haunted to her, and the blood-soaked land beneath it carries generations of loss. She walks around the side of the house toward the family cemetery. The iron gate resists, then groans open. She stands among the graves of her grandfather, father, and mother, remembering the funerals. Her mother's large marker already has her name and only needs her date of death. At Mom's grave, Maria, Gabe, Amy, Judson, and Ken huddle around her. The minister speaks a few words. Raine does not. Amy hugs her and says she is sorry for her loss. Raine pats her back and feels nothing, no grief or sadness, only relief. She has imagined this moment for years and thought her mother would never pass. Amy offers to stay, but Raine says she is fine. Amy looks disappointed but packs her suitcase and catches a ride back to town with Gabe. Maria hands Raine a beer and remarks that Amy looks so much like Raine that from a distance she cannot tell them apart. Maria says she worries about Raine and then claims Amy and Judson slept together. Raine's grip tightens around the bottle. She and Judson have not slept together for a month. She misses him, but his focus is on the future, and her demands for time have pushed him away. Maria says everyone is saying it. Raine does not believe it, but the picture is painted, and even if erased, the outline remains. She wants to talk to Judson, but Ken asks him for a ride into town. Judson agrees, Amy goes with them, and they leave before Raine can say anything. After Maria and Gabe leave, Raine opens another beer and returns to the cemetery. She kneels by her parents' graves and speaks to them, saying here they are again, their dysfunctional family back together. The Hale legacy weighs heavier now that she is almost thirty-five. She traces the cold headstone, rises, and looks back at the house. A light blinks on upstairs. She waits for it to go out, but it does not. She enters the back door, calls hello, and the light goes out, leaving darkness and silence.

Monday Morning at Hale House

Monday morning, October 19, at six thirty, Raine wakes to the house's death rattle: clanking pipes, rattling windows, creaking stairs. She thinks houses are living creatures, and Hale House is dying. If she does not commit to it, it will collapse in her lifetime. She hears someone walking up and down the main staircase. She is in the spare room because her old bedroom holds too many memories. She remembers her mother's assurance that there are no ghosts in Hale House, then her mother's deathbed confession that she lied and did not know who walks the stairs every night. Raine dismissed it then as dementia, but now the sounds unnerve her. She tells the ghosts to get in line with the others from her past. She is clammy, maybe feverish, and the cold floors seep through her socks. She puts on her high school sweatshirt, makes coffee, and tries her phone. Without Wi-Fi, her data is sluggish, and her old life feels farther away. She misses the distraction of bail-skipping clients and biased judges. In the fog, she sees movement and fears trespassers, but a herd of deer races across the lawn. She considers a long run, but the fog is too heavy. Ken texts her, asking how she is doing and whether he can see her. She says not now. He replies that he is here for her. Raine notes that he knows when to push and when to pretend he has no stake, but he always has an agenda. She dumps her coffee, tosses her uneaten toast, showers in lukewarm water, and dresses in black fitted pants, a bold blue V-neck sweater, chunky ankle boots, and a leather jacket. Dr. Webber calls from the hospital: Maria is awake, confused and slow but alert. Gabe has been called and is on his way. Raine says she is on her way too.

The Hospital

At the hospital, Raine parks, nerves frayed and stomach hollow. Judson appears behind her. He is out of uniform in dark pants, a white shirt, a leather jacket, black cowboy boots, and a .45 on his hip. He says Dr. Webber called him and that Gabe should be on his way. Raine says Ken is still checking in. Judson's jaw tightens. Ken is a raw nerve. Judson asks about trouble at Hale House. Raine mentions the usual moans and groans and that she is sleeping in the spare room. Judson says a renovation will not be pretty and suggests she sell the land to a developer and walk away. Raine pictures Hale House as a country club, family portraits spying on strangers, champagne spills, condensation rings on antique tables, and the cemetery surrounded by new homes. She says they should see the damage first. In the elevator, Judson's citrus soap brings back a fall night in the barn when she believed they had forever. She asks what he is not telling her. He says he is always tense, but she says this is more than normal. He says someone poisoned Maria. They agree to talk to the doctor first. Raine claims she is Gabe's lawyer, a small lie, because if this becomes a case Gabe will need her help. Judson says in this situation he does the asking. She says she has the same rights if she has an agreement with Gabe. She lies that she does. On Maria's floor, Dr. Webber says Maria woke about two hours ago, groggy and confused, still weak, but her basic cognitive skills appear intact. She is asking for her daughter. Judson asks if she has asked for her husband. Dr. Webber says just her daughter and Judson. Raine notices a secret look between Dr. Webber and Judson and asks what they are not telling her. Judson says they will see Maria and talk after. Raine thinks he locks everyone out when focused, even when she was in his circle. She remembers their last real bonding moment, early spring in bed, when he told her he loved her as she dozed, and she later wondered if she imagined it.

At Maria's room, Maria mistakes Raine for Amy and apologizes. Raine corrects her. Maria recognizes her and says the great shrinking Hale family. Maria and Raine have not spoken in a year; their last conversation was an argument, and Maria hung up on her. Raine kisses her forehead and says she is glad Maria is back. Maria is not sure, saying it feels like an elephant is sitting on her chest. She does not understand the heart attack. Raine tells her it might be an underlying heart condition, a combination of Hale and Cooper heart problems. Maria asks about Gabe. Raine says he is on his way after making sure Molly gets breakfast. Maria asks if Molly is okay. Raine says she is fine and with Edith, and they thought it better to wait to tell her. Maria apologizes for the lawsuit, saying it was Gabe's idea and she should not have gone along. Raine says they will talk about it later, but she knows Gabe is lying. Dr. Webber asks about symptoms. Maria remembers a headache and chest cramping like a vise. Her bruised ribs ache, and Gabe saved her with clumsy chest compressions until the paramedics arrived. Judson asks what she ate for dinner the night she collapsed. Maria says pasta, bread, salad, and wine. She cooked. Judson says he is just testing her memory. Gabe arrives, flushed and rattled. He takes Maria's hand and says he has been worried. Maria asks about Molly. Gabe says Edith is taking her to the park and will buy her ice cream. He kisses Maria and says he wants to spoil her. Maria sighs as if she wants to believe him, though everyone knows he has made promises he has not kept. She says that would be nice. Dr. Webber orders everyone out. Gabe protests that he just arrived, but the doctor says to come back later. Raine tells Gabe they will return. Maria says to listen to Raine because she is always right. Gabe kisses her forehead, tears in his eyes, and says he loves her. Maria hesitates before saying she loves him too. Outside, Dr. Webber says no visitors until later and that she is ordering tests: scans, blood work, an MRI. Gabe leaves to get back to Molly. Raine stays with Judson and asks what is going on. Judson says they are just being cautious. Raine says good public defenders can sniff out lies and asks if he has ever lied to her. He says brutally honest is his style but does not answer. He asks why Maria called her Amy and what Maria had to be sorry for. Raine says Maria was not kind when Amy worked as Mom's caregiver and did not like Amy living in Hale House, seeing Amy use her clothes and makeup and copy her. Judson says Amy was turning into her look-alike. Raine says Amy was a teenager with no family searching for an identity. Judson asks why she let Amy live there. Raine says Amy's nights and weekends helped her get out and live, and yes, it gave Amy time to go through her things.