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I got it.

I'm already awake.

I'm coming.

Where's my guy?

There you are.

You precious little angel. Oh, yeah.

Oh, thank you.

I'll be right back.

Mark! Mark! Mark!

- What is it? - Dylan's not in his crib!

He's not in his crib! He's not there!

He's not there! He's not there?

911, what's your emergency?

I'm Susan, I'm Susan Webster,

and my son is... I can't find my son.

He's not in his crib! I don't know

if somebody took him or what... what the--

Ma'am, are you alone?

Whereabouts are you in the house?

Hello?

Oh!

Ma'am?

Hello?

Check her blood pressure.

Holy. Holy!

- Keep pushing. - It's okay. It's okay.

- No, I can't! - She's fine.

- I mean. I can't... I can't do it.

- You can. You can. You can. You're doing it.

- Ready? - You're doing it.

- Okay. Okay. - Three, two, one...

It's a boy.

It's a boy, babe. You did it.

Oh, my God, he's beautiful.

We have a son.

I'm so proud of you.

Hello...

Welcome to the world, sweet boy.

Hi. Yeah...

I know, say what is Daddy doing on his phone?

Why? Why is he on his phone?

Hmm?

- Uh, sorry. I'm... I'm sorry.

I... I'm nervous. It's like,

like coping mechanism or something.

Oh, hey mister.

Hey, baby boy. - Yeah. I know.

- Can you believe it? - I can't. This face.

Yeah. I know. Shh.

- I have a confession.

I may have let your father know that everything went great.

- He's not here. They're not here?

- Yep. - Mark. Ugh.

- I'm sorry, babe. I just...

I wanted to share this with him, you know?

He's like the father I never had.

That makes one of us.

It's okay. It's okay.

- Where is he? - Hi!

Where is that grandson of mine?

- Oh, I'm sorry. - Hey, Neil. Ginny.

- Well, what are we gonna, what do we name him?

- "We" named him Dylan.

- Dylan? - Oh!

- Here we go. Here we go. - Oh!

- Oh, oh. It's okay, it's okay. Just spit up a little.

Hi. Dylan.

Dylan sounds like a loser kid in band camp.

What about a more manly name like Neil Jr.?

'Cause he's not your son.

- Yeah, well Neil Jr. the third, then.

- That's not how names work, Dad.

- No, he's Dylan, after Mom.

- I don't want to jinx it, but we just did IVF so Dylan

might have a little uncle soon.

- Wow, that's uh... - There you go. There we go.

- I um... I-I sent you the press release.

- Neil! - Yeah, babe?

- He's so handsome. - Mm-hmm.

I think he has my eyes.

Well, that would be surprising but, uh...

- Yeah, so, I figured we could discuss you know, my--

- Mark... appreciate the hustle. Take a break.

Just uh... just enjoy Neil Jr. there. Honey?

- Oh! Ah!

- No, still Dylan. - Dad.

- Oof.

Mm-hmm.

Yes, indeed, in our bed.

Surprise!

- Aunt Peggy?! - Wh--

Oh, my God, he's so precious.

- What?!

This is Dylan. - Oh, my goodness.

Well, I just had to go meet this little man and...

Ta-da! - My blanket.

Uh-huh.

- Wait, did you, did you do this?

- Ah, please. He's so busy on the construction

of the Hollis building, he doesn't even

have time to construct his own baby's crib.

- Okay, zip it, Aunt Peg, come on. You rat me out.

What's goin' on?

- Hey, listen, never trust a journalist

with her secrets, okay?

Oh, my God. - I know.

Hey, little sis.

Look what your daughter made.

Dylan, that's your grandma.

Mm-hmm.

- Grandma, this is Dylan.

I can't believe it. I'm so happy for you.

It's okay. Please, please, please.

Oh, please. Please, please.

Okay, do you want a lullaby? I can do a lullaby.

I'm not a very good singer. I could in college.

I was in choir for a little bit.

- Hey, Suzie Q? - Suz-- what? Hi.

- You having trouble?

- Yeah, he just, he won't settle for a nap

and I want to go to sleep.

- Here, let me trying something.

- Shh, Daddy's gonna try.

- Oh, come on over.

- Yeah, it's okay. - Shh, shh, shh.

Ah, there you go.

- I was five when my mom had Jacob.

All he would do is cry.

Aw.

Okay.

It was Jacob's comfort move. - Mm-hmm.

- Even when we got older,

when my dad would rage,

we'd hide in the tire well of his car.

The second I grabbed Jacob's hand,

just calmed right down.

- He was lucky to have you.

- Still can't believe this is all real.

I mean...

I have a kid.

This is my son. This thing.

- Thing?!

- You know what I mean.

He is kind of a thing.

Yeah.

- And I'm his dad.

How does this make any sense?

- It's... crazy.

For me, too.

- Oh.

- Oh! No.

Oh, no, no, no.

Ah!

Yes, baby. Hi, hi, hi, hi.

Shh, shh, shh.

I know, I know, I know. I know, I know...

Okay, okay. Okay.

Okay. Okay,

okay, okay.

Oh, watch your head. Okay, okay, okay.

Shh. Shh. Oh, there we go.

That's better. That's better.

Holy sh--

Mm...

You're lucky

it was just an ankle. How did it happen?

- I don't even know. Ah...

one minute I had Dylan down for a nap,

and then I woke up to screaming,

so I don't know, I must have passed out or something.

- Well, that happens to the best of us.

Hey. Hey, don't overthink it.

Dylan's fine. Right? Your ankle's not a big deal.

- Hmm. - Right?

- Yeah, thanks. - You're okay.

- I know. I know it's just, you know, at work I oversee

an entire department of people.

And I've never been as tired as I am right now.

- Well, newborns are exhausting by design.

It's mother nature's little way of tricking us

into doing it again.

- Ha, ha, again. Sure.

Hey, baby.

- Whoa. What happened?

- Oh, don't ask.

- When did this happen? How?

- It's not... it's not a big deal. I'm fine.

- Not a big deal. But--

why haven't you called me? Susan, you can't just

have like a brok--

And you're drinking.

- I should go.

Fine.

- I'll call you. - Yeah, please do.

- Mark... always a pleasure.

- Mark, what was that?!

- What was-- - What? What is going on?

Hey. Hey, hi. Hi. You have a tell, you know.

You look down and to the left every time

you're holding something back. So, out with it. What?

- Honestly, babe, I...

I don't think you want to hear what I have to say.

- Try me.

- What about getting some help while you work?

- Like a nanny? - Yeah.

- No! No, I don't want someone else taking care of our son.

- Ugh. remember ten seconds ago

when I said you weren't gonna want to hear what I had to say?

- Okay. Mom brain is a real thing. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Oh, now who's drinking?

- I am just showing you solidarity.

Uh-huh. I bet.

It's okay, I'm exhausted anyway.

- Ooh.

I'm positive I sent it last night.

Well, nothing's in my inbox.

- No, I stayed up extra late doing it. Trust me...

I can use all the sleep I can get with a newborn.

- I can imagine. - Um, sorry, yeah, no,

let me check.

Take your time.

- Okay...

um...

Just... I printed a copy.

How's your son, by the way?

- He's good, thank you.

I know I finished it I just...

can't seem to fi--

Look, I just need it soon, okay?

- Yes. - All right.

- As soon as I-, yes. - I'm sure you'll find it.

- Thank you. - Bye, Susan.

- Sorry.

Are you sure you don't wanna go back

inside and sit down?

- No, please, I could use the fresh air.

- Well... if Mark thinks you need a nanny,

then maybe he should consider taking time off. That's fair.

- My dad's breathing down his neck with that legacy project,

that Hollis building. - Right.

- I can't ask him to do that.

- Sure.

- Don't look at me like that.

- Any chance this is postpartum depression?

- No! I don't... I don't feel depressed. I...

- Well, neither did my sister, but she had it.

And just like you, she was tripping on things,

sleeping all the time.

Couldn't even remember her own daughter's name.

Susan, my God! - I-- I didn't even see him.

I...

- Just breathe. Just breathe.

Yeah.

- I got it. - Hmm...

It's fine, I'm already awake.

No! Mark! Mark!

Dylan's not in his crib!

He's not in crib! He's not there!

He's not there! He's not there?

- My name is Susan Webster. I can't find my baby.

He's not in crib and I just...

I think somebody may have take--

Ma'am, are you alone?

Whereabouts are you in the house?

Hello? Ma'am?

Hello?

- What? - What's going on?

- What? Where was he?

- Shh, shh, shh.

He was in his crib.

- No. I checked his crib. He wa...

- Susan,

I'm telling you, he was in his crib.

Is anyone there? Can you hear me?

- Hi, yeah. - Is anyone hurt?

- No, sorry. No, we're okay.

A woman said there was a missing baby.

- My son's fine.

Okay, call back if you need us.

- Thank you.

- Hi, Susan.

- Ahem. - I appreciate you

making the house call, Dr. Riley.

Oh, stop with the "doctor", Mark.

We've known each other for how long?

Wow.

You're the spitting image of your mother, by the way.

- You knew my mom?

Mm-hmm.

We smoked our first cigarette behind the school gymnasium.

Delia was a wonderful woman.

- Yeah.

Such a great mother.

- Being a mother is the greatest feeling,

and the worst.

You're constantly second-guessing yourself.

- Not her. She had it all together.

- Are you sure about that?

All moms discover new challenges, but the good ones,

they shield their children from it.

- I don't feel like I'm doing that for Dylan at all.

- Before my youngest was born,

I thought I knew what to expect.

It wasn't long before I was lying on the floor,

picking up lint from the carpet with my fingers.

I had to make major changes in my life

just to break out of the spiral.

- How?

- I started on meds.

They saved my life, and countless of my patients.

And then I had to recognize that bringing in someone part-time

to help me didn't make me...

less of a mom, but a better mom.

- Tell me what you're thinking, babe.

- I'll do whatever it takes.

Yeah, you're making the right choice.

There you go.

- Amy. - Hi. Hi, Mark?

Yeah. Yeah, welcome.

- Thank you so much. - Yeah, come on in.

You must be Susan?

- Hi. - Hi. Oh, he is so adorable.

Mm-hmm.

- May I? - Uh... oh.

Oh, sweet thing. Thank you.

Oh, look.

[Mark: Oh, my God, you're a natural.

Are you awake for me?

Are you gonna give me a nice cuddle while you're awake

from your nap, sweet boy?

- Sugar frosted cereal again? Breakfast sucks!

Hey, hey, hey, how ya doin'?

Great. Here is your cutest little prince.

Oh, hey, big buy. Oh, my God.

Back to Daddy.

Did you guys have a nice day?

We had such a good day, didn't we, sir?

Yes, do you want to tell him all about it?

Want to tell him what we did?

The doctor will see you now. Right this way.

- Do you need some help?

- I'm fine. Thanks.

- So, what are those pills you're taking?

- Nortriptyline. It's no big deal.

- Is that safe, though?

- Amy, do you have kids?

- Uh, no. No, I'm um...

I'm not lucky that way.

That's why I do what I do. These are my kids.

- You don't have kids so you don't understand, okay?

I'm sorry.

Sorry. - It's okay.

- The pills are for my postpartum.

They're prescribed by a doctor and everything,

so yes, they are perfectly safe.

- Right.

- S-Susan...

Susan, you're bleeding.

- What?

Susan!

Hey, sweet little guy.

Hey, sweet little boy.

Good job. Yeah, just like that.

- Thank you for driving.

- Yeah, no problem. - Amy can you...

please don't tell Mark about this.

- Yeah, right.

- What, were you just not gonna tell me?

- Look, you had so much going on!

- Susan, h-how am I supposed to help you if you're only

telling me things after they happen?!

- You want to help me?

Be here for me! Work less!

Help out around the house more!

I need support. I don't know if I am just stressed.

I don't know if it's all the hormones?!

I don't know if it's these pills?!

I don't know if I'm actually losing my mind!

But I have felt like I am doing this by myself since day one.

You haven't been here! - Are you serious?! Oh, my God!

That is so incredibly unfair.

You know how hard it was for me to watch

my mother struggle alone.

- No. - I'm... I can't--

No, this conversation's done. - Mark--

- I'm done with this conversation.

- Hey.

I didn't ask you for anything.

Since you've been here, not one thing.

And the only time I do,

you go straight to Mark and you tell him?

- I'm sorry, Susan. I just... I was trying to help.

- You were trying to help.

If you want to help me, don't meddle in my family.

- Susan... I know that things have been really hard for you.

- Yes! Yes, it is hard! It is very hard!

And if I wanted it harder,

I would have asked you to meddle. And I didn't.

You're done. Get out. - Susan, please...

- I said leave!

- Susan...

Susan?

Where's Amy?

- Gone.

- Did you fire her?

She couldn't be trusted.

- She was helping us.

God, you're paranoid!

How many of these have you taken?

- Enough to feel better.

Baby...

Baby... it's okay.

We don't need...

anyone in this house...

that we can't trust.

Right? We have everything...

... we need...

right...

here.

Right, baby?

Right?

- Okay.

Okay. Okay!

Look, baby...

I'm gonna tell your father that I'm working from home

until we can get you back on your feet.

- What about the Hollis building?

- Doesn't matter.

This is me choosing my family.

I'm with you and Dylan.

- Yeah. - Okay. Come here, baby.

We're gonna be okay.

- You're gonna be... - Mm...

Here. Shh, shh, shh.

Babe, do you want any coffee? I'm making a pot.

Speak now or forever hold your peace.

Can you get the baby, huh?

Look at the water, baby...

So beautiful...

Just like you.

Shh. Just like you.

Baby, look...

water's even prettier at night.

Mr. Webster, could you tell me what happened?

I heard them outside and so I came running out.

I saw Susan at the end...

of the... of the yard and...

This is my boy's. This is my boy's.

There's nothing here. This is... this is...

go find him! This isn't my son!

He's not in here.

Our son's not here.

Where is he? Where did you put him?

Me? I... I didn't do it.

- Baby. - Where... where...

No, I didn't... I don't... I don't know. I don't know!

I don't know! Where is he?

Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?

No! No, no, no.

In local news, Mrs. Susan Webster,

daughter of construction maven Neil Hollis,

has now been charged with manslaughter,

even though the infant's remains have yet to be found.

Our own Dave Frang has spoken with Mrs. Webster's physician,

Nicole Riley, who prosecutors claim will offer important

key testimony in Mrs. Webster's trial next week.

- I was treating Susan for postpartum depression,

as I have with many other women.

Nortriptyline is a perfectly fine medicine

for treating this. It's when one abuses this medicine

that we see all sorts of tragic outcomes.

- I've known Susan since high school.

It was clear that things weren't coming naturally

and I think she only made it worse by pretending

that everything was fine.

- Bitch.

- The one thing I have to say about Susan Webster...

she broke up her family.

She never should have been a mother!

- Mr. Hollis, as the mother of Mrs. Webster,

and the grandfather of the child,

what do you have to say about Susan's actions?

- No comment. - Just--

- Get out of my--

- Susan, you gotta stop torturing yourself.

- I just don't understand.

My friends, my family?

- They just don't know how to make sense of it.

- And I do? - I didn't say that.

- Well, it sounds like you're on their side.

- Baby, I'm...

I'm not on anybody's side.

- That's my point.

You're supposed to be on my side. I'm your wife.

The mother of your...

I don't know what happened.

- Don't you?

- Excuse me?

- You weren't in your right mind, right?

- And where were you? Huh?

What happened to being here for us?

- Hey, I did my best, okay?

It's hard enough to raise one kid, let alone two.

- You're an ....

- Yeah, well you're a failed mother! You killed our son!

I deserve to have my side of the story told.

It can be an exclusive.

Please, Aunt Peggy, I-I...

I'm not the monster that everyone is saying I am.

- I know that, kiddo!

Honey, you're family.

My producers are not gonna touch this

with a ten-foot pole.

Especially with me anchoring the story. Trust me!

It's a conflict of interest.

- I...

I can't do this.

- Hey... yes, you can.

It's my work phone.

Oh, huh, well speaking of exclusives...

"Mark Webster, husband of Susan Webster,

is calling on the people of this community to grant his wife

the space she needs to grieve in peace."

And he says, and I quote,

"There is never a justification

for terrorizing those who are suffering."

You see? Not everyone's abandoning you.

The Susan Webster criminally negligent

homicide trial is set to begin next week.

This case has shaken the community to the core.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

the evidence will show-- The State would

have you believe that this was a premeditated act.

Eight years. Can get out in four though, right?

The jury in this controversial case

has reached a verdict.

Susan Webster has been found guilty

of criminally negligent homicide.

- We, we can do this, Susan.

- Mark...

it's a long drive.

You should enjoy your weekend.

- No...

- I'm so sorry.

- No, we can make this work.

We can. - Goodbye, Mark. Goodbye.

- Please, baby. Please don't hang up the phone.

Susan, please!

Susan, don't walk away from me!

- Uh, question, where are the ba--

...bathrooms?

- I, for one, do not care what you did... or didn't... do.

So long as you're under my watch, your focus

is on moving forward. Starting over.

Don't think it'll work out.

Don't tell yourself it'll be okay. Didn't work out then,

it's not gonna work out now.

- Got it. Thanks.

- Uh-huh.

I always tell my parolees,

if you're gonna remember one thing:

the past is not your friend.

Okay.

Go out into the world. You are rehabilitated...

Susan.

- Uh... not gonna cover it.

- What're you gonna do about it?

- Hey.

- What's up, new girl?

- Slimeball stiffed me.

Is there like, protocol for that?

Am I supposed to do something? I don't wanna get him--

- Hey, Jonnie boy...

- What's up, Cassie?

- You didn't finish your drink.

Hey, get off me! Get off me!

- Thanks, Ramos.

It's a good night.

Keep the change.

Cassie Mendoza.

- Emma Cartwright.

- Sure, gringa. Drink after work?

You know, I... I caught my ex cheating on me.

So then I started diving into her life.

I mean, I'm not proud of it but... I'm definitely not sorry.

Before I even knew it, I was hooked.

And everybody says that hacking is a crime,

but honestly, I call it an artform. But even still...

after a couple crooked wires with the Mexican cartel,

and a Russian bride later,

it wasn't my ex who went to prison.

It was me.

But look at me now, girl. I'm reformed! I'm good.

Just don't forget... the past is not your friend.

- Oh... you got the same speech, huh?

- Do you remember that guy's mustache?

Gringa, are you hungry?

- I could eat.

I...

...can pay.

Yeah!

So much for fasting, right?

Hey, yo, yo. Wait, wait.

What?

You are on the third floor, aren't you?

Yes, but you're never gonna see my place--

Cassie?

Hey! Come back!

What is this? Hey! Wait!

No... stop! Stop, please! Wait! Please!

No! No, no, no, no!

... Ha!

Holy shit. Ha!

Wow. You know... I knew you looked familiar.

I knew it.

But... then again, all of you Karens kinda blend, right?

So... this doesn't mean I gotta call you Emma, right?

- I mean, you've been calling me "gringa",

whatever the hell that means.

- I mean, it is better.

Come on, don't be weird. Sit down. Come on.

So... I don't know you, you don't know me,

and I don't judge,

but is there a world that maybe your son isn't...

you know...

- They never found his body.

- They're never gonna believe me you were here.

- Well, I still see Ginny from time to time.

Yeah? She ever get that baby she wanted?

- Uh, you mean, do you have a step-sibling? Well, not yet.

But I only hear bits and pieces about your father.

- Hmm. I'm sure you heard how he disowned me.

- Oh... Susan, that's cruel.

- Whatever, that's fine. I have moved on.

Well... Mark hasn't.

You know, he opened up a women's health clinic downtown.

Yeah, they have the whole first floor

of the Hollis Webster building.

- Hollis Webster?

- Mm-hmm. They're partners now.

But... well, you've moved on.

- Well, I've been trying to

until someone slipped this under my door.

- What the hell is this?

- There was a note. I...

I just figured, you're a reporter

so maybe you could help me verify it?

- Honey, I'm a journalist, not a magician.

This can't be real.

I mean, even if you want it to be real.

Even if I want it to be real.

Susan, you've just got out of prison. You're grieving.

It's been four years!

- I know. But the grief doesn't just go away.

It's part of who I am now.

I need to know if this is real. Please, Aunt Peggy, please.

- Well... first you have to consider

who is willing to play this cruel joke on you?

I think we've got all the information

we need from you right now.

I'll check in on Friday and you'll be here?

Yeah, I will be here on Friday.

Okay. I'll see you then.

- I'll see you then. - Yeah.

Oh, my God... Susan.

- Hmm... technically it's Emma Cartwright now.

Hi, Ginny.

- You have no business being here.

- I was just looking.

But the Hollis Webster building... it's a choice.

- You have no idea how hard it's been for the rest of us.

- It's my name on the building, too.

- Really?

I don't see Cartwright written anywhere.

Hey gringa, que paso? It's Cassie.

Listen, I'm not gonna lie to you...

our boss from the bar was too spineless to tell you himself,

so of course, he got me to do it for him.

Uh... I'm sorry, man. He's letting you go.

What?

Someone tipped him off about your past

and now, well, everyone knows.

He just doesn't want you around his customers, right?

But whatever, he's a jerk anyways. Doesn't pay enough.

Not enough hours.

You can get over it, right?

Hello?

Mommy! Mommy!

Gringa...

You all right?

You know if... if you wanna blow off some steam,

just meet me in the morning. Vamonos.

Hey... put a little weight on your left foot.

- I'm trying. - A little weight,

you slip, slip, one, two. Come on.

- Okay, okay.

- No, get outta here. Get out. I don't believe any of that.

- I'm trying, man! I'm trying!

- Light on your feet. Slip, slip. One, two! Let me see it.

Una... dos... tres!

Mas! Mas! Mas!

Woo!

Ha, ha. Now you hit like an ex-con.

- What choice do I have?

I don't have anyone else.

Nobody's gonna walk in and save the day for me.

- Hey, babe... I look like nobody to you?

- What are you gonna do?

- What I'm gonna do? I'mma smack you!

I've been helping you all day.

Now show me what you got! Duck!

Eso. But you know what?

You're starting to smell real bad.

So, if I'm gonna help you, you gotta go shower.

Like, quick! 'Cause you're gonna stink up my car.

So, which one's Ginny?

The bleached blonde.

- Aye, aye, aye! She married your dad?

- She's been trying to have a baby with him for years now.

- Oh, a new little brother, huh?

Oh, God, I hope not.

But if I had to bet,

she's the one that's been following me

in that silver station wagon.

Hate to break it to you, that don't look like

no silver station wagon to me.

- No, it does not.

- Okay. So, who else has you on their shit list?

- Hey...

can you look up Nicole Riley? Dr. Nicole Riley?

She was the one who prescribed me my postpartum meds.

Okay.

Whew...

- Oh, my God.

Literally posted two days ago.

- Huh. Her car...

- The infamous silver wagon.

Ooh, nice neighborhood. I don't know, man.

You sure about this?

Oh, let's just do it.

Uh, gringa...

- Hi, Mark.

- Susan...

Wow. Uh...

I... I'm at a loss. I don't know what to say.

- Uh... you look good.

- What's up with your friend?

- Oh, uh, Cassie.

Um...

did you read about Dr. Riley?

- Yeah, that's uh... just awful. It's tragic.

- Yeah. The weird thing is,

I think that she was following me.

Why... why would she be following you?

- I don't know, but she slid this under my door.

And...

I thought you should... see them.

I mean, if that's real...

- You're sick.

- What?!

- Why would you do this to me, Susan?

- If that's real, he could still be al--

- I don't want any part of this, Susan.

- Mark! - Stay outta my life.

Get yourself some help, Susan.

They're all the same.

Not what you expected, huh?

; You know what, let's get outta here.

Susan?

Oh, my God!

Uh...

it's been a long time.

- Four years.

- How've you been?

You look good.

Sweetie, Mommy's just talking to an old friend, okay?

Why don't you go and choose a chocolate bar

and I'll be right over? Okay?

"Old friend"?

- Susan...

I'm so sorry.

No, I-I mean it.

I'll never forgive myself for what I said publicly when...

you were my best friend.

- What do you want, Alice?

- The truth was, I was really messed up back then.

It's not an excuse but...

my sister never had postpartum depression.

It was me. And I didn't tell you because I don't know...

shame, I guess.

- It's okay. I'm sorry.

- I just wasn't thinking straight back then.

And just like you, I was on Nortriptyline.

But sometimes those little red pills just...

wouldn't work, you know?

- Red pills?

- Uh yeah, I... I have to go.

I'll call you. Okay?

Sweetie...

You're all set up for the next three weeks

but if you notice any side effects at all,

just give us a call back--

- Nortriptyline. - Wh-what?

- Nortriptyline, is it red or is it blue?

- Uh... it... ma'am. I don't--

- The pills... are they red or are they blue?!

- They're red. They're red.

- Are you sure? - I have a sample.

- Okay.

It's uh...

- Come on! - Oh, uh...

- Have they ever been prescribed as a blue pill?

No.

I appreciate you

making the house call, Dr. Riley.

Stop with the "doctor",

Mark. We've known each other for how long?

You're the spitting image of your mother, by the way.

- It's always been red.

- You... you drugged me?

You drugged me?! You drugged me! You psycho!

- Get her outta here. - Don't you... you're insane!

You had her killed?!

Every-, everything's gonna be fine. It, it's fine.

- Everything's fine, like she says. Kendra...

take an early lunch.

Cassie?

Cassie, I just saw Mark.

He was switching my pills with my doctor, the whole time!

Someone trashed your place?

- No, I just decided to redecorate.

I knew your boy was eyeing me up.

- This is my fault?

I'm so sorry.

- Well, shit... you're on a roll, detective.

- This was Mark.

- You know you sound crazy, right?

Look, just...

hear me out. Listen, look at me. Please, please.

Dr. Riley was the one who slipped me the photo of Dylan.

She was the one swapping out my meds.

Mark brought her into our house.

Said that they knew each other for years and...

and now she's dead?

I know it sounds crazy, but that doesn't mean it's not true.

Please...

Cassie...

Mark can't get away with this.

Help me clean up this mess...

and I'm gonna help you clean yours.

Okay.

I don't know Spanish.

Okay... welcome back.

I want the gate closed... now.

Okay, amigos, we're closed!

I want everybody out, now!

You too, Grandpa. Bakery's closed!

Hey, girl.

Susan, come here.

Keep an eye on the door, yeah? Gracias.

Okay, so your boy trashed my laptop back at the apartment.

- Not "my boy".

- Well, luckily, any self-respected hacker,

muchas gracias, always has one or two weapons of choice

laying around.

Okay, gringa... you ready?

- Yeah. - Let's dig.

That means I need his last name, birth place,

age, parents...

- Webster. Mark Andrew Webster.

Raised in Tampa. Went to Syracuse.

Born October 14th, 1985.

- Any fetishes?

- What?

- Nah, I'm just kidding.

You shoulda seen your face though. What?!

- Wait, what are you doing?

- Don't ask.

Is it legal?

- What did I just say?

Back up. Back up.

You make me nervous. Back up. One more step.

I can smell you. - Sorry. Okay, okay.

- Did he ever change his name?

- Mark? No.

- Well, I don't know. Don't shoot the messenger.

Take a look.

Med student in Utah, engaged to a Mark Reynolds.

Filed for a restraining order.

- Oh, pfft...

oh, my God.

Wait, who's that one?

- Don't touch my screen. - Sorry.

- Jackie Mitchell?

Picture was taken in Idaho.

Let me zoom in.

I mean...

Ugh! They look like they were practically still kids.

Oh, my God!

- Not a big deal. It's just an ex-wife.

- No, that... that was our nanny!

- Okay.

So, you're telling me that he hired his child bride

as your nanny? - Um...

- Now that's a fetish. - Can you get me an address?

Already texted you.

- Thank you, okay.

Can I borrow your car?

- You're lucky I like you. You break it, you buy it!

- Thank you!

All right, you were able to make a decision?

Good choice.

Great choice. Um, that's $40 for everything, please.

Perfect. Thank you, Jenny. Great.

All right. Well, I am very much looking forward to see you.

Oh, and uh, I was meaning to ask you,

it's been a long time since I've seen Nonna.

Will you say hello to her for me? Okay, thank you so much.

Excuse me, ma'am?

Can I... can I help you with something?

Tell me what you did to my son...

Jackie.

Susan!

God, you frickin' psycho!

Tell me what happened!

- Nothing! You're certifiably insane!

- I'm insane? What's insane

is my husband's ex-wife posing as our nanny!

- No, I was just trying to help you get back on your feet.

It wasn't like that. - Tell me the damn truth!

- It is the truth! Please!

Mark... Mark... all he ever wanted was a family

and it killed him to see you struggle.

- I was struggling because Mark had me drugged!

What did you do?! - What do you mean

he had you drugged? What do you mean?

If that's the truth then he was taking advantage of me too.

I didn't know! Please!

- Talk.

- It was... it was his idea not to tell you the truth.

He said that it would set you off.

I mean, can you blame him?

Okay, you want the truth, Susan?

It was a long time ago, all right?

But I loved him.

I never stopped loving him.

Ever since we were kids.

And then he needed me.

And I mean, hell, you needed me.

- Not good enough.

- Do you remember when you asked me if I had kids?

And I said I wasn't lucky that way?

We were pregnant once.

But life had other plans.

An abortion is the last thing that I wanted

but I didn't have a choice.

And then in you, and in Mark, and then...

your beautiful...

baby boy, I saw a second chance to be a mom, I guess.

I know it's stupid. I know, okay?

I truly wanted to help, Susan!

I'm sorry that I failed you.

I... I don't know what happened to Dylan.

I swear.

I loved him too.

I saw more than anyone how much you loved him.

You deserve to know the truth after all these years.

Your lip is bleeding.

- So is your face.

- I'll get you a cloth from the back.

- Chicos, we open in ten minutes. Hurry up.

Andele, let's go.

What? You found something? Let me see.

Dang!

Dios mio...

Now that is next-level crazy.

- Take care, Susan.

No offense, but uh...

I hope I never see you again.

- Hmm. Ditto.

Where is he?!

That's his blanket. Where is he?

You lied?! Where is he?

Just tell me where he is, please. Please, please,

just tell me where he is.

Please, please, please, please.

Please, just tell me where he is.

No, no, no. No, no. You called the cops?!

- Emma Cartwright...

that's original.

I warned you what would happen if you went

digging around in your past. Lo and behold, here we are.

- Please, you have to listen to me. My son is alive.

- No, you didn't listen to me... when you had a chance.

Well, buckle up, Cartwright. You're going back to prison!

- Hollis, you got a visitor.

- Hey, Suzie Q.

You poor thing.

Still pushing away the people you love, huh?

- I know what you did.

- Do you?

- You brought your ex-wife into our home.

- My ex-wife?

- I know about the baby you lost.

Why would you give her Dylan? He was ours.

He was mine!

- I have no idea what you're talking about.

- I saw his blanket!

The pictures, the documents, they're real. He is alive!

- Come on, Susan. Your grasp on reality is tenuous at best.

- No, you had Dr. Riley drug me.

Only you didn't count her growing a conscience

four years later... did you?

Why are you here?

- I'm just doing my duty as a grieving father,

trying to get through to his mentally unstable ex-wife.

Some people would consider that sympathetic.

- You're sociopathic.

- Whatever helps you sleep at night, Susan.

And I'm sure it's hard to sleep at night.

All those horrible memories.

Say...

have you tried medication?

- I know who you are. People know who you are...

Mark Mitchell.

- Well...

I really must be going.

I gotta see a girl about a laptop.

Guards! - No.

You leave Cassie out of this.

You leave Cassie out of this!

Come on! Come on, let's go!

- She had nothing to do with this. No!

- Get her out. - You leave her alone!

He's gonna hurt my friend! No!

- Hollis, let's go. You're getting transported.

Where?

- Back to a minimum-security facility.

So, you looking forward to going back to your old cell?

How do you sleep at night?

- What the...

Get outta the road!

Come on! Move it, let's go!

That's it!

I told you guys, get off the damn road!

Now! Move it! Let's go!

I'll drag you down the street.

Think I'm kidding? I'll have you arrested.

No! No! No!

No!

- Oh my... oh, my God.

Cassie!

Cassie?

No! No! No!

Cassie!

No, no, no. Stay.

Stay with me. Hey, hey.

- I'm s-sorry.

- You put up a hell of a fight.

- Ma-- - I'm so sorry.

Mark...

- I'm so sorry. Shh, stay with me. Stay with me.

T-t-t-take this.

Please. Please! No!!

No!

What?

You never had a brother, did you?

Jackie's your sister! You sick bastard!

- Susan, you really shouldn't have come here.

- You lied to me about everything!

- Ah! - Start talking.

Our father forced us!

If we refused, Susan, he beat us!

I almost didn't make it out alive.

And... and Jackie was never the same.

The complications from her abortion meant

she can never have another baby.

And right before Dylan was born, she...

she threatened to expose me if I didn't give him to her!

I was... I was gonna lose everything! I mean...

- I never had postpartum, did I?

- No... no, you didn't.

- The tea. You put something in my tea!

I was so tired.

The night Dylan went missing, that was you!

- That was us! That was us!

And Dr. Riley?!

We brought her in.

While your sister played nanny?!

We just needed to get proof you were an unfit mother.

Get Child Services involved.

But you ruined that! You fired her!

And we were left with no choice but to escalate.

- I went to prison because of you!

Where is my son?!

No! No!

- Oh, God!

- You... will never find him!

- Mark! Mark! Mark, stop! Mark, please!

Jackie!

What are you doing here?

- Please, okay? It doesn't have to be like this.

- Oh, God. Oh, God. - Breathe. It's okay.

- I'm so sorry. - It's okay.

No! No! No, Mark! No! Please! Please, Mark!

No. No. No!

This is my niece's house!

Oh! Oh, I don't believe this is happening to me.

Okay, all right. Let's get this ready then.

Okay, five, four, three--

Good evening.

I'm Peggy Collingswood of KCCO, Channel 4 News,

and I'm standing outside the front door

of construction magnate Mark Webster.

The local police department is investigating

after a body was discovered in the home.

Foul play is suspected.

Please be on the lookout for fugitive Susan Webster,

who was convicted for the murder of her son.

Susan, what the hell happened to you?

- This was Mark. This was Mark!

He has Dylan. Dylan is... safe.

Dylan has been alive this whole time and he's...

Mark's trying to hurt me. And he's...

he's hurt my friends. And I know...

I know we aren't close, but I need your help, Dad.

Please. Please, Dad.

Please.

- Neil, do you actually believe in her?

Look at her.

Look at that blood! She's a convict!

She's dangerous!

Neil, I'm talking to you.

- Neil-- - Ginny...

do not talk about my daughter that way.

- Thank you. Thank you.

- Hey...

Okay?

Mark filed a manifest for one of our planes.

It's wheels up at midnight.

- Call Aunt Peggy. Tell her to meet me there with her crew.

Thank you, Dad.

- Susan...

there's two passengers listed on that manifest.

- Thank you. Um...

Oh.

911, what is your emergency?

- My name is Susan Webster. I'm at Centennial Airbase.

I'm ready to turn myself in.

Ma'am, is there an emergency?

There's about to be one.

Mark! Where is he?! I know you have him!

- Are you insane, Susan?! - Where is he? You liar!

You're a liar! - You killed our son!

- Stop! Let's see some ID now!

- Okay. Hey, hey, no problem. I've got my ID right here.

- Please! Please! You have got to stop him!

What are you doing? I called you guys! I called you!!

- While you're at it, why don't you run Susan Webster?

- Please! - See what you come up with.

- No! No! No! Check the plane! Check the plane!

There were two passengers listed on the manifest.

Check the plane! If there's no one in there.

You should be fine letting them check the plane! Please...

- By all means...

check the plane.

- No! No! - That was a thorough search.

Are you sure you don't want to check my bags, too?

- Why?! Where is he? - All right, take her away.

- Anything else boys? Or can I go?

- He's lying, he's somewhere.

He's trying to take him.

Run his real name.

It's Mark Mitchell.

Please.

Aunt Peggy! Aunt Peggy! Aunt Peggy, please!

Mark's trying to take Dylan! He's here!

We'd hide in the tire well of his car.

My beautiful baby boy.

- The tire well. Check the tire well. Please! Please,

you have got to believe me! Just check the tire well!

Please just check the tire well! - Peggy, what are you doing?

Peggy! Peggy!! No! No! No!

Oh, my God! Dylan!

Come here. Come here, hold my hand.

Oh.

Hi.

Dylan...

do you know who I am?

- My mama.

- That's right. That's right.

- Oh, my. - What were you doing

in the back of the car?

- Daddy said we were playing a game

of hide in the back of the car.

- It's okay, baby.

The game's over now.

Oh, my God.

- You're okay.

- Susan...

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't believe you.

- It's okay. - Please forgive me.

I love you so much. - It's okay.

- Thank you.

Hey, little man. How ya doin'?

Oh, my God.

Okay, I have do this. You take care. Okay.

Can you give me that, please? Thank you.

All right, let's get it together.

Running sound. Five, four, three, two, one.

Good evening.

Tonight's top story involves the secret life and child

of construction magnate Mark Webster.

- I want to thank you all for coming here today

for the re-opening, and appropriately renamed

Women's Health Clinic,

after my dear friend, Cassie Mendoza.

I wish so badly she could be here today

to meet my son, Dylan,

because the truth is, without her,

I never would have found him.

I'm pleased to share some of the things that I learned her:

to trust myself,

to follow the truth,

and to fight for our children.

The privilege of being a mother takes all that you have,

the good, the bad, and everything in between.

But most of all, it requires hope,

because even if you get lost along the way,

hope will always guide you home.

Subtitling: difuze