"We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects."
~Herman Melville, 19th century American author
Brooke Davis can't remember the last time she woke up with such a throbbing headache. It's not like she never drinks. But, it's usually champagne. Top shelf. Never the hard or the cheap stuff. Never more than a couple of glasses. As she tries to open her too heavy eyelids, she can taste the tequila in her mouth. Downing one shot after another flashes before her eyes. The rays from the barely rising sun peer through the window. They shine the brightest spotlight on the strange bed she's waking up in. Brutal. Unforgiving. She's naked, and not alone. The first thing she sees is strands of blond hair on the pillow next to her. She knows who the hair belongs to. Her eyes fall down on the muscular back with fingernail marks. She knows the damage was done by her nails. She wasn't drunk enough not to remember who lies beside her. Not to remember what they did. A part of her wishes she was. So, she can find a cause...chalk this whole thing up to one intoxicated night. And the effect...one big mistake they can pretend never happened. The all-too-familiar flight reflex kicks in. No good can come out of staying. She doesn't even think she has the words for what may come next if she has to face him. So, she slowly sneaks out of bed and puts on first her underwear, and then, her dress. The buttons scattered across the floor tell her that struggling with the back of her dress is futile. Grabbing her high heels, she quietly leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Leaning her back against the door and still holding onto the knob, she closes her eyes for a moment, and memories of the previous night come flooding in. Standing soaking wet in the shower...It's too late...yelling at him...You ruined us...attacking him, more than once...I hate you.
She opens her eyes and shakes her head. All she wants to do is to get out of that house, that instant. Tip toeing down the staircase, she prays that Haley is not awake. When the only thing she sees in her way to the door is the purse she had left at Haley's office, she's thankful for friends who are kind enough to pick up after her. Grabbing her purse off the kitchen counter, she hurries out the door, and hails a taxi. Looking out the window of the car towards Haley's house, she knows running doesn't fix anything. She can evade reality all she wants, but it happens regardless. She knows that she can't escape the infinite links that bind her to this place, to him. That she was stronger in the We last night than she is right now in the lonely I. But being here and now is too hard, too painful, so she has no choice but to make that mistake, to struggle with what's in her nature. She tells the taxi driver to take her to the airport and calls the pilot to prepare the jet. While Lucas wakes up alone wondering where Brooke is, she's already up in the air approaching the sky over New York City.
Brooke spends the hour and a half of flight time aimlessly looking out the window of the plane at the clouds, pacing back and forth enough times to worry the flight attendant, and drinking water non-stop to hydrate her hangover away. All so she doesn't have to think about what she did and what it all means. When they land, the company car takes her to her apartment on the Upper East Side. Brooke Davis lives in a luxurious three bedroom penthouse overlooking Central Park. She never really cared about where she lives, but this apartment was the first big thing she bought with the money she earned so it has a special place in her heart. There's a natural warmth to the place. Maybe it's the floor to ceiling windows letting in the sunlight. The space is open, flowing. Brooke even decorated it herself. Earth tones, wood furniture, a large comfortable crimson sofa in the living room and Impressionist paintings on the walls. There are only a few framed pictures around. One of Rachel and Brooke grinning from ear to ear outside of the first Clothes Over Bros store in Manhattan. Another of Jamie and Haley lying down next to her on the grass in Central Park about a year ago. An old black and white photo of her parents on their wedding day. And finally, one of a teenage Brooke and Rachel barefoot on the beach. The unsuspecting eye cannot tell, but it's the only picture of Brooke when she was pregnant with Brandon. There's one silver frame barely visible among the books, magazines, and drawings in the bookcase. Brooke bought that frame many years ago, and has kept it empty ever since. It's meant for only one person, her son. She doesn't know if it'll ever get used. In her dining room, there's a solid oak table that can seat fourteen. She always thought she was foolish when she bought it. She's not the type to host a big thanksgiving dinner for friends and family. There's a 20'x20' walk-in closet in her bedroom, full of mainly her own designs. It was Rachel's idea to build it in. She even managed the construction crew. When it was finished, she told Brooke, proudly, that she had them build in a secret compartment and that she was handing her the only key. She knows Rachel has a copy. But then, she's the only one Brooke doesn't mind knowing what she keeps in there. Her diaries...all eighty-two of them...all addressed to the son she gave up. She's been writing since the day she decided on the adoption. When Brooke is at home, she mostly spends her time in her bedroom, writing in those diaries…about her life, the way it is and the way she wishes it was. She writes about whom she really is and not the Brooke others get to see. She writes about her hopes and dreams for him.
Today, her first stop is that walk-in closet where she takes off the torn green dress, followed by the marble shower in her bathroom. Once she closes her eyes under the running hot water, it becomes too hard to push the memories out. The sight of his muscular arms pinning her against the wall...the force of his lips on hers and his tongue against hers...the feel of her small hands pressed against his abs pulling his shirt up...the touch of his rough, cold hands grabbing her waist...her nails digging into his shoulder blades. No, the memories don't care how hot the water is or how long you stand under it. She wraps herself in a towel, wipes the fogged up mirror with one hand, and goes through her daily ritual. She dries her hair and pulls it up in a loose bun, puts lotion on her body and applies light make up. Flawless. When she leaves the bathroom to get dressed, she makes sure to grab one of her silk Hermes scarves to cover his mark on her neck. As if nothing happened. Maybe it's any other day. Just like she's in an out of body experience.
There's only one place Brooke Davis goes when she needs to escape: the office. It's the only place where she can shut out the world. But today, she has to make one more stop before she can find solace in her safe place. Now she stands outside the door, ready to knock. She knows how the conversation will begin but she has no idea how it will end. She just knows she has to have it. Now. She has to tell her boyfriend, Kyle, the truth. So, she knocks on his door and rings the bell. After a minute, a confused Kyle opens the door.
Kyle: "Brooke, did you lose your key?"
Brooke: "Hi. No, the key...I wasn't sure if you'd still want me to use it."
Grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her inside, Kyle greets Brooke with a quick peck on the lips. Brooke has had a key to Kyle's loft in Tribeca for about a year. It was a part of his first anniversary gift along with a trip for two to St. Lucia. Brooke kept postponing the trip, so they still have two unused return tickets in a drawer somewhere. She spends the night at his loft so rarely that the key was used probably once or twice in twelve months of possession. This time, her hesitation stems from the fact that he may no longer want the woman who ran out of town the second he proposed to use a key given in good faith. Not to mention the fact that she hasn't picked up any of his seven phone calls or returned any of his three voicemails over the barely thirty-six hours she's been gone. But, Kyle is the same understanding guy he's always been. Maybe too understanding.
K: "Don't be silly. It's your key."
B: "Are you all right? I got your voicemail that said you were working from home today."
Kyle Crawford is the general counsel at Brooke's company. They met when she interviewed him for the job almost three years ago. For about a year, Brooke resisted Kyle's advances, citing a list of ethical reasons against a relationship with a colleague. But, somehow he wore down all her defenses. It's not exactly passionate love that keeps them together. At least, not hers for him. But, it's deep affection. A very strong friendship and admiration. Complete trust and respect. Besides Rachel and Haley, Kyle is the only other person Brooke can call a true friend. He is a thirty-six year old, tall, dark, handsome man. He mostly wears expensive suits. Today is no exception. He had always been destined to become a lawyer. Like he had a birth right to graduate from Harvard Law School. He comes from New England old money. The kind that sends young boys to boarding schools and can trace its genealogy to royalty in Scotland. His trust fund guarantees that he never has to work a day in his entire life, but he's just as bad a workaholic as Brooke, if not worse. His life is about order, structure, rules, and hierarchy. Maybe, that's what attracted Brooke to him. With each other, they can have a relationship that is always under control. Together, they can carefully draft and revise every clause in this contract between them.
K: "No, I'm fine. I just have to fly to California to take care of a supplier contract in a couple of hours and I've been on the phone all morning, so this was just easier. Are you all right? Where have you been?"
Pulling the Bluetooth out of his ear, Kyle walks towards the kitchen as he asks the question. When he realizes Brooke isn't following him, he turns back and grabs her hand leading her into the kitchen. He pours two cups of coffee and hands one to her. When a nervous and almost trembling Brooke doesn't speak, he starts getting worried.
K: "Brooke, are you ok? Did something happen? Talk to me."
She takes a sip of the coffee, and finally looks up to him.
B: "I'm sorry for leaving you that night. I had to go."
He smiles at her and hopes that it puts her at ease.
K: "I know. It's ok. You're back now."
B: "Kyle, I have to tell you something."
He walks around the kitchen counter and takes a seat on the tall bar chair next to Brooke.
K: "Ok. You know you can tell me anything."
Brooke looks down and hesitates for a moment. But, she knows this is one reality she cannot evade. If she is to do what she wants and go after her son, she has to tell Kyle about probably the most painful part of her past. Even if it means he never wants to see her again. Even if it means she loses a good friend in the process.
B: "It was Haley who called me that night. I know you've never met her, but I've told you about her a few times. Jamie's mom?"
K: "Yes, I remember. Is everything ok with Jamie?"
When Haley and Jamie visited her in New York about a year ago, Jamie surprised Brooke in her office while Haley went shopping. That's when Kyle met Jamie. They got along pretty well for such a brief encounter. Jamie suggested they all go out to dinner together that night, but Brooke wasn't ready for Kyle to meet them yet. She's not sure if she'll ever be ready for that.
B: "Yes, he's fine. He wasn't there. He's away at a basketball camp for the summer."
Noticing that it's taking forever for Brooke to spit out what she's come there to tell him, Kyle tries to focus the conversation.
K: "Ok. So, what did Haley want?"
B: "Jamie wasn't there, but somebody else was."
K: "Who?"
Brooke gets up from her chair and with one hand on her hip and another on her forehead, starts to pace back and forth in the kitchen.
B: "I'm doing a terrible job explaining this. Ok. Here it is. The truth. As clear as I can tell it."
Brooke stops a few feet in front of him and looks directly into his eyes.
B: "I have a son. His name is Brandon, and he's sixteen. Haley called me that night to tell me Brandon was in Tree Hill. That's where I was yesterday, meeting my son for the first time."
A shocked Kyle simply repeats what he just heard.
K: "You have a son?"
Looking for a meaning in his eyes, an anxious Brooke simply confirms.
B: "Yes."
K: "You haven't seen him in sixteen years?"
B: "Yes. I gave him up for adoption when he was born."
When a silent Kyle just stares at her in disbelief, Brooke panics. She starts pacing again. She doesn't even look at Kyle while she tries to explain.
B: "God, you must think so little of me. How can a mother give up her own flesh and blood? I was barely eighteen, Kyle. With nothing, no one. I did what I thought was the best for him."
K: "Who's the father?"
The question stops Brooke, and she turns around to face him.
B: "What?"
K: "Who's the boy's father, Brooke?"
B: "My high school boyfriend. He wasn't in the picture."
K: "What's his name?"
B: "Why does it matter?"
K: "What's the name, Brooke?"
B: "Lucas."
Hearing the name makes him close his eyes and drop his chin down. Kyle knows the name. He heard it in a conversation with Rachel when he first started dating Brooke. Rachel was warning him not to hurt Brooke and the name just slipped. If you turn out to be another Lucas, I swear on these Prada heels that I will cut your balls off while you sleep. Who's Lucas? Nobody. He asked Brooke about her past relationships a couple of times, but it was clear she was never going to tell him. He tried to bring up the topic with Rachel, but was shut down every time. This new information was the missing piece of the puzzle, revealing exactly why Brooke has been so tight lipped about the past. When he opens his eyes, he smiles and holds a hand out for Brooke.
K: "Come here."
Sitting back down on the chair next to Kyle, Brooke is worried what he might say next.
K: "I'm sorry you had to go through that. It explains a lot about you actually. The strong, compassionate, and caring you who had to grow up way too fast. I wish I knew you then, so I could have been there to help you."
That is definitely not what she expected. He should be mad that she lied to him their entire relationship, kept a huge part of who she is from him. She feels like he should be yelling and she should be apologizing. But, then she remembers that this is the same understanding Kyle he has always been. A true friend, before anything else.
B: "I should have told you before. I never meant to lie to you."
K: "I know why you didn't tell me. You thought it was in your past. But it isn't, is it?"
B: "No."
Brooke reaches inside her purse and takes out the black velvet box containing the engagement ring Kyle gave her two nights ago. Placing the box on the kitchen counter, she slides it a few inches over to him.
B: "I'm not the Brooke you wanted to marry. You should have this back."
Kyle takes the box in his hand and it remains out of sight under his palm. While he questions Brooke, he keeps his eyes locked on his hand as if he can see through to the ring box.
K: "What do you know about him? Brandon, was it?"
B: "He lives in Raleigh, North Carolina. His adoptive parents died three years ago in a car accident and he's been in foster care ever since. I hired a private detective agency to find out more. I haven't checked my email yet, but they should have sent me a file on him by now. Kyle, he's filing for emancipation. That's actually why he was in Tree Hill. He wanted us to sign his petition."
K: "You and Lucas. So, you saw him too?"
B: "Yes."
Brooke's heart starts beating a little faster. She should say that not only she saw him, but that she also slept with him. She cheated on this wonderful, caring, understanding man before her with the only person in the whole world who infuriates her and drives her mad. But, she doesn't say any of it.
K: "What are you going to do?"
B: "I'm going to find my son. I'm going to fight for him. I want him with me, Kyle. I don't want to let him go again."
Kyle smiles and turns to face Brooke.
K: "Then, you're the same Brooke I wanted to marry."
He releases the hand over the ring box and slides it back over to her.
K: "You should have this back."
Surprised, Brooke looks at the box first, and then, up at Kyle. Before she can say anything, her blackberry starts ringing. She reaches for it, but not recognizing the number, she sends the call to voicemail. Lucas Scott has never had good timing when it comes to Brooke Davis. Especially when he calls from an unknown number from thousands of miles away. When she turns her attention to Kyle, he motions with his hand for her to stop.
K: "Don't say anything. Nothing you told me today changes how I feel about you. I still want to marry you, if you'll have me. But, I know there's a lot going on in your life right now, and you have to focus on your son. And, I will help you. I want to help you. Let's get Brandon back first, then, I'll ask you again."
Without waiting for an answer from Brooke, Kyle places the ring box back in her purse.
K: "Listen, I have to go now. My flight is in less than two hours and you know the city traffic. But, I don't want to leave you like this. You could come with me."
B: "I can't. I really need to figure out where he is and go talk to him."
Nodding his head, Kyle gets up and grabs his suit jacket from the armchair nearby.
K: "Ok, but call me if you learn anything. And, when I'm back, I can help you. We can find some legal loophole to get you what you want. I knew that diploma would come in handy sometime."
Brooke wonders how he does it. There she was, only a few minutes ago, terrified that the bitter truth was finally out, and now, she finds herself smiling, being comforted by the one man who has every right to shut her out. Her smile doesn't last very long when she remembers she didn't tell him the whole truth. Where and with whom she spent the night before. She couldn't. Her hand goes for her neck adjusting the scarf to make sure Lucas's mark remains hidden. She calls for Kyle, who stops pulling his luggage and turns around. She closes in the distance between them and holds with both hands his arms by the elbows.
B: "Thank you. For being you."
He leans down and kisses her briefly.
B: "Have a safe trip."
As he leaves, Kyle asks Brooke to lock the door behind her. She takes out the key from her purse, holds it up, and smiles in agreement. Standing alone in an empty loft now, Brooke thinks of the ring box in her purse. She wonders how we know that the people we let in, the connections we dig up from the dark, are the right ones. The ones that will prepare us for life's trials and challenges, protect us from hurt. Are all the inescapable, infinite links the right ones? What if we pick the wrong place to stay? The wrong time to say what we should have said a long time ago? The wrong person to let in on who we really are? After all, it's not just any We that makes us stronger. It's only that single specific union that shifts separation to oneness. Brooke leaves all the doubts behind in the loft when she locks the door, because there's something else, someone else, more important than Kyle or Lucas.
There's a reason why Clothes Over Bros is headquartered in Manhattan. Yes, Brooke spent four years at the city's Fashion Institute of Technology studying design. And, yes, her office building is located on Fifth Avenue, equal distance from probably the biggest Saks and Bloomingdale stores in the nation. But, that's not why. She picked New York City, because it gave her a brand new home once, far away from everything and everyone she ran away from. Lights, sounds, smells, people, streets, life…she doesn't think she could have found a place that inspires her as much every day. As she walks into her building now, it's the first time she finds the city noise deafening and the air suffocating. Like there's somewhere else she's supposed to be. After the elevator ride up to the forty-second floor, her first stop is Rachel's office. She simply leans against the doorframe quietly until Rachel notices her. Finally looking up from her computer, Rachel immediately gets up, walks over, and hugs her tight.
Rachel: "Welcome back, Davis."
34 years-old, 5'7'', 122lbs, single-white-female, red hair, brown eyes, NYU graduate, Chief Operations Officer of Clothes Over Bros, New Yorker. That, in a nutshell, is Rachel V. Gatina. While at college studying business, Rachel worked part-time at Brooke's fledgling start-up company both as a model and a supply chain manager. She was actually Brooke's first employee. And, her most loyal one. Despite their similar backgrounds and wealthy but absentee parents, Brooke and Rachel started off as fierce rivals back in high school. But, no one would believe that now. For over sixteen years, they have been allies, confidants, keeper of each other's secrets, emergency contacts, first line of defense, and best friends…sisters, really. It was a long ago heartbreak that linked them. The kind of heartbreak that makes you drive a limo off a bridge and into the river. The kind of heartbreak that makes you run away from home while ten-weeks pregnant. If there's one inescapable, infinite bond either of them is aware of, it's the one that binds them to each other. In almost all of Brooke's life changing moments, one can find Rachel. In anything Rachel considers a turning point in her life, there's Brooke's advice and support. There is no happiness for one without the other, no suffering that afflicts only one of them. Some may say that Rachel is the only one who knows the real Brooke. Who is close enough to pull her out of the lonely I into the stronger We. Even if it's temporarily.
Now parting from their hug , Rachel keeps her hands on Brooke's shoulders.
Rachel: "If you had waited for one more hour to walk through that door, I would have been on my way to Tree Hill. Seriously. I was looking for flights online. No joke."
Smiling, Brooke walks around her friend and sits down on the sofa across from her desk.
Brooke: "I believe you."
Rachel follows and sits next to her.
R: "So?"
B: "I don't know where to start."
R: "You saw him? What's he like? Why was he in Tree Hill? What did he say? What did you do?"
B: "All right, all right…slow down. He's perfect. I mean he's a total mess and he hates me, but he's perfect."
R: "Well, what else did you expect with your genes?"
B: "He's been through so much, Rachel. His life now…it's not what I wanted for him. But, it doesn't matter, because I'm going to change all of that."
R: "What do you mean?"
B: "The Walkers…remember them? We met them at the hospital the day he was born. They passed away three years ago. Car accident."
R: "Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Brooke."
Rachel reaches out to hold Brooke's hand.
B: "He's been in foster care ever since. And, now he wants to be emancipated. That's why he was in Tree Hill. I don't know how, but somehow he found out our names and Karen's address. He asked us to sign his petition."
R: "Sign his petition? What does that mean?"
B: "It means we, as his parents, approve of his request to be emancipated."
R: "What did he do when you refused? Brooke? Tell me you said no."
B: "At first. But, you should have seen the hurt in his eyes. He kept saying we've never given him anything, that this is the only thing he wants. Rachel, I couldn't say no."
Rachel stands up, walks over to her desk and picks up the phone.
R: "Ok, we can fix it."
B: "What are you doing?"
R: "Calling Sam. He'll find him for us. He did it once."
B: "I already did that."
Rachel stops dialling and puts the phone down.
R: "Good girl. And?"
B: "Sam was the one who sent me the article about the Walkers' accident. I haven't checked my email to see what else he found out."
R: "Ok, what are we waiting for? Log on, Davis."
Rachel starts walking towards Brooke's office but when she realizes Brooke isn't following her, she turns around. Brooke just sits on the sofa and looks down on the carpet. Rachel comes back inside and closes the door behind her. She knows Brooke well enough to figure out that there's more to the story than what she's been told so far.
R: "Make it easy on yourself and spill. Now. Do I have to remind you of all the torturous ways I can get information out of you?"
Brooke looks up silently, reaches for the scarf around her neck, and swiftly removes it with one hand. As she exposes the hickey on her neck, she cringes waiting for the inevitable reaction. Rachel first squints her eyes to process what she's being shown, and then, angrily points a finger to the mark in question on her neck.
R: "That had better be from Kyle. Your almost fiancé? Because in this happy place I like to go to in my head, you guys had hot monkey sex making up for the fact that you bailed on the proposal. Don't pull me out of my happy place Brooke, because I won't be responsible for what I might do."
Brooke knows words aren't necessary so she simply shakes her head. As Rachel starts pacing back and forth in her office, she's the perfect mix of irritation and fury.
R: "No, no, no. Not him. No, no, no. Him? Really? Damn it, Davis."
B: "Rachel, please. I'm already freaking out enough for the both of us."
Her curiosity gets the better of her, so she forgets she's supposed to be mad. Only for a split second.
R: "How was it? Don't answer that."
Continuing her pacing, it's like she's thinking out loud as opposed to waiting for answers to her questions.
R: "Why? After all this time? After everything he did?"
B: "I don't know. Ok? One second, I was telling him how much I hate him, and the next, I was kissing him. Tequila was involved. Somewhat."
R: "I can't let you go anywhere alone, can I? Do I have to make all your decisions from now on? No, that won't be enough. I'm going to handcuff you to me for the rest of your life."
B: "That might backfire on us. You know? Handcuffs don't exactly attract what you might call law-abiding, normal men."
Finally stopping, Rachel sits back down next to Brooke.
R: "Do you have a better plan?"
Brooke ties the scarf back around her neck.
B: "Yes. We forget this ever happened. It was a one-time mistake. Never to be repeated. I was drunk. I had just found out about Brandon and the Walkers. I was vulnerable. So was he. It just happened. But, now, we move on."
R: "Can you?"
B: "Yes, because I can't think about that right now. I have to find my son. I have to talk to him. I have to take back that stupid paper I signed. I don't have one single second to waste on Lucas."
R: "What about Kyle?"
B: "I went to see him before I came here. I told him about Brandon. He wants to help me get him back. He still wants to marry me. Can you believe that?"
R: "Yes, actually I can. Did you tell him about Lucas?"
B: "I couldn't. I honestly thought he wouldn't want to have anything to do with me when he found out I lied. I keep underestimating him. When he was so supportive, I just couldn't break his heart. But, I will tell him. Just not right now. Because everything I have, all my energy, needs to be spent on Brandon."
R: "Ok. So, you want some sort of a suspension? I can do that. We ignore this until we figure out what to do about Brandon. But, just you know, I'm filing this one away in a top secret drawer to be reopened soon. Very soon. Now, let's go see what Sam found out."
They walk across the hallway and enter Brooke's office. Turning on her computer and logging into the company network, Brooke opens her email account. There it is. Sam Spade's final report on the Walkers. Her hand fails Brooke, she can't get it to click on the attachment. She simply stares at the screen. When she realizes she won't be able to do it herself, she turns to the one person who's always been there to back her up. Her personal shot of courage. The force that pushes her when it's time to go forward. The hand that holds her back when it's best to remain still.
B: "Rachel, can you read what it says for me? Please?"
R: "Sure."
As they get up to switch seats, Brooke remembers the very first time Rachel gave her life-altering news. The day Lucas and Peyton found her in Myrtle Beach. The day she decided on the adoption.
***
16 Years and 3 Months Ago, Rachel's Beach House, Myrtle Beach
Brooke hides nervously behind the door listening to Rachel put on an act for Lucas and Peyton as she tries to convince them to leave.
Rachel: "I don't know what more I can tell you Lucas. That bitch is not here. She never was. And she never will be. You're betting on the wrong girl to hide her. You can wait for as long as your heart desires. But, the skinny blonde has to go. You know what, both of you can come in. Look around. It will all be in vain anyway. No? All right then. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to wash my hair. Later."
Closing the door, Rachel looks at Brooke in relief that they dodged the bullet. Neither can believe how close they came to being discovered.
Brooke: "Both of you can come in? What were you thinking?"
R: "I had to sell it. If I told them to go, they'd want to come in. Ever heard of reverse psychology?"
Rachel realizes she's already lost Brooke who's peeking out the window from behind the curtains at Lucas and Peyton driving away.
R: "They must have followed me from school. I'm sorry. I should have been more careful. Brooke, are you ok?"
B: "Thank you for, you know, for lying."
R: "You're welcome. I think. Now, are you really ok?"
B: "It's not like you hadn't told me they were together."
R: "Yeah, but seeing it first-hand. That's different."
B: "I'm not going to pretend it doesn't hurt. But, I also can't pretend I didn't see it coming. It's why I left. To give him this. What he wants. And, to give this little one, what he deserves. Parents who want and love him."
R: "You've been thinking about the adoption?"
B: "Yes."
R: "And?"
B: "I think it's the best thing for the baby."
R: "Brooke, you'd be an amazing mother. Are you sure about this?"
B: "I have no money. No job. I'm barely 18. No parents to speak of. No support system. Besides you, of course. I have practically nothing to offer him."
R: "That's not true. I know how much you love him. That could be enough."
B: "Don't you see? That's exactly why I'm doing this. It's because I love him that I have to let him go. So he can have a better life than I can give him. I want that for him. More than anything. This is the best thing for him, Rachel. I know it is."
R: "Ok, adoption it is. I can call the agency back. Ask them to bring the files for the potentials?"
B: "The sooner the better."
R: "So, I have something for you. I've been waiting for you to make the decision about the adoption before I told you. I didn't want it to influence your decision."
B: "What is it?"
Rachel takes out an envelope from inside the console drawer and hands it to Brooke, who can't contain her surprise when she reads who it is from.
B: "Fashion Institute of Technology?"
R: "Don't be mad. I applied for you, submitted your designs. I haven't opened the envelope so I don't know if it worked."
Brooke anxiously tears the envelope on its side and takes out the letter.
B: "Dear Brooke Penelope Davis, Congratulations! You have been selected for admission..."
Brooke simply stares at the letter while Rachel screams in joy and jumps up and down. Kneeling down by Brooke, she reaches out to hold Brooke's shoulders with both hands.
R: "This is good news, right?"
B: "You did this? For me? You got me into FIT?"
R: "Yeah well, don't forget us, the little people, when you become a fashion icon."
Brooke hugs her friend. She can't remember the last time anyone has done anything so selfless and incredible for her.
B: "Thank you. Not just for this. Thank you for everything. I couldn't have survived the last few months without you."
R: "You helped me too. With the accident, Cooper. All of it. Davis, you're kind of my only friend."
B: "You're kind of my only friend, too."
R: "What a pair we are. Let's celebrate. Sparkling cider for you, of course. The beach?"
B: "The beach."
The picture in Brooke's penthouse…the one of the pregnant Brooke and a teenage Rachel barefoot on the beach, was taken that day. While they celebrated saying goodbye to the past, securing a future for the baby they both loved, and finally seeing hope in their own tomorrow.
***
Present Day, Brooke's Office, New York City
Brooke leaves the memories behind when she hears Rachel call for her.
R: "Brooke, there's a lot of information here, but I think this is the one thing you need to see right away."
She gets up and walks around her desk towards Rachel. Standing over her friend's shoulder, she starts reading the highlighted passage from the file on the computer screen.
LexisNexis public records search reveals that Brandon Lucas Walker of Raleigh, NC has an active Petition for Emancipation filed with the State of North Carolina, Wake County, General Court of Justice, Special Proceedings, Juvenile Department. On July 1, the Court has mailed Notice and Summons on Hearing on Petition to the biological parents on record: Brooke Penelope Davis (last known address in New York City, NY) and Lucas Eugene Scott (last known address in Tree Hill, NC). Department of Social Services will be representing the State. The Hearing shall take place at the Wake County Court, 316 Fayetteville Street, Raleigh, NC 27602 on Friday, August 1 at 13:00.
B: "What does this mean? The parents on record were sent a notice? No one sent me any such thing!"
R: "Does it really matter? One of your assistants probably signed for you and thought it was junk mail. When was the last time you opened your own mail? Focus, Davis. This tells you exactly where to be on exactly what day and at exactly at what time to fight for your son."
B: "Raleigh courthouse, 1pm, August 1st. Wait, that's tomorrow!"
R: "You may as well live on the company jet. Hopefully the pilot had enough time to refuel."
B: "Pinch me."
R: "No way. You bruise too easily."
B: "Just want to make sure I'm not dreaming."
Smiling, Rachel looks up at Brooke.
R: "It's really happening, Brooke. Now, go get your son back."
