When Bitsy came to the next morning, she found herself in a strange yet familiar room of her grandfather's house. It took a bit of looking around for her to realize that this was actually Daisy's old bedroom. She had no recollection of coming in here last night nor did she remember any of the last few hours before she'd fallen asleep.

Bitsy just lay there and felt a dull ache throbbing in her head as she tried to piece together what had happened the night before. The memories were blurry and fragmented, like a puzzle missing vital pieces. She recalled snippets of conversations, flashes of faces filled with shock and disgust, and the sensation of being lifted out of the hot tub by Helen. Bitsy shook her head slightly, trying to clear away the fog that clouded her mind but to no avail. No matter. She would have to figure out what happened later.

Bitsy slowly rolled over in bed and noticed that there was a glass of water and some painkillers waiting for her on the bedside table. She gratefully gulped down the water and swallowed the pills, hoping they would help with her headache. As she lay there, trying to gather her thoughts, she heard voices coming from downstairs. What on Earth were they saying?

"You know, I can't help but worry about your granddaughter, Mr. Ryan," Adela could be heard saying. "I think something serious is going on with her."

"I couldn't agree more," replied Ruairí's disembodied voice. "Between what happened last night, her drug use, and her running the Brandenham to the ground, it seems to me that she might be heading down a dark path."

"I would hope not. As if Emma and Kaiki dying within two years of each other wasn't devastating enough, imagine how much more painful it would be if Bitsy were to die just after Queenie."

"I've tried not to think about that. I really have, but it's too difficult. There has to be a way for me to help her, but how? Maybe if I come clean to her about our family history, it might push her to confront her demons and turn things around."

"Wait, are you sure about that? How do you know it'll help her and not push her even further down into a downward spiral?"

"That's the thing: I don't know. Still, it's worth a shot anyway."

Bitsy tried to eavesdrop further, but gave up after the voices downstairs gradually faded away. She felt a pang of anxiety at her grandfather's words. What did he mean when he said she was "heading down a dark path"? What did he mean when he said he wanted to come clean to her about their family history? And who was Emma? Bitsy tried to push aside her growing unease and focus on getting up. Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, feeling slightly unsteady. She decided for the time being that she would try to keep busy by rummaging through Daisy's closet.

And rummage through the closet, she did. She sifted through the contents, her mind swirling with endless questions and concerns about the whole thing. She tried and failed to shake off the weight of Ruairí's words and the enigmatic reference to Emma. Who was she and why did he make her out to be important? Only one way to find out, she supposed. As she ran her fingers over the fabrics of Daisy's old clothes, a sense of unease had settled inside her. What secrets could be hiding within the Ryan family? And why did everything seem to be spiraling out of control?

Lost in thought, Bitsy eventually stumbled upon a vintage Hartmann wardrobe trunk tucked away at the very back. Curiosity now fully piqued, she carefully pried it open and went through all four interior drawers. In the first drawer, she found a stack of faded photographs inside. Images of faces that had long been forgotten stared back at her and triggered a flood of memories she didn't know she even had. They brought with them a wave of emotions that overcame her. She couldn't help but find it strange that they could evoke such strong emotions within her without even physically being there.

Among the photographs, one stood out to her. It was a toddler with striking red hair and features she seemingly inherited from both Queenie and Ruairí. The brown eyes, the buff-colored skin… they all came together to make this child. Bitsy flipped the photo over to see if anything had been written on the back. Sure enough, the name "Emma" was scrawled across the other side in elegant cursive. Beneath it was "1927", presumably when the photo had been taken. Bitsy felt a chill run down her spine. Who was this child, and what connection could she possibly have to her own existence?

Bitsy wasn't sure if she wanted to know right now, so she stashed the photo away into her pocket for later. Besides, she was starting to realize that someone downstairs was calling her name, so she had to come down and socialize.

"Feeling better, Bitsy?" Ruairí asked his granddaughter as she descended the stairs.

Bitsy just nodded. "Much better. So… what exactly happened last night?"

"Well, long story short, you made an ass of yourself in the hot tub. Let's just Adela had to clean up a lot of vomit afterwards."

Bitsy wasn't sure that she liked the vagueness of that answer, but she decided to take his word for it anyway. She tried to shake off that strange mix of emotions that had been clinging to her since she'd discovered those photographs, but to no avail. They persisted even as she entered the kitchen and joined Ruairí and the Kahôkûokalanis at the kitchen table.

Bitsy sat down at the kitchen table with them, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of the mysterious child in the photograph. As she sipped on a cup of hot tea that Adela had just made, she still couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to her family's history than she had ever known. Ruairí noticed her distracted expression and decided that now was the time to break the silence.

"Bitsy, I think it's time you learned the truth," Ruairí began to speak. "I'm… not your grandfather."

Bitsy's expression soon made way for wide-eyed shock. "You're not?"

Ruairí shook his head. "I'm actually your great-uncle."

Bitsy's expression then changed from wide-eyed shock to confusion. "What do you mean you're my great-uncle? Did Grandma cheat on you with Uncle Philip to have Mom or what?"

"No, no, it's actually way more complicated than that."

"…do tell."

Ruairí took a deep breath before launching into the intricate family history that he'd kept hidden for so long. He explained how Daisy had found herself pregnant at the age of twelve by his brother Philip (who was the same age as her, give or take a few weeks). Then, when Daisy's condition became obvious, she had to be sent off to stay with Queenie's parents, Kahananui and Beiyu, until it was time for her to have the baby. Once she'd given birth, she was promptly sent home, and then Ruairí and Queenie decided to raise the baby as their daughter. He further explained how Daisy's pregnancy had to be kept a secret from the rest of the community in the interim, with only a few trusted individuals (including the Kahôkûokalanis and some of the Kahananuis) knowing the truth. The whole time, Bitsy's mind raced to process this newfound information, but there was still something within her that yearned to be asked out loud.

"So... what happened to the baby after that?" Bitsy asked. "And who's Emma?"

"Emma would be your mother, of course," Mele replied on Ruairí's behalf. "That's who Daisy's baby grew up into."

"What are you talking about? Mom's name was Myrtle."

"Yes, but that's because your father had her legally change her name to Myrtle. Her actual name was Emma Kahili Hōkūokalani Kahananui Ryan."

After she'd processed the bombshell revelation about her true family history and her mother's real name, Bitsy felt a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She couldn't believe how many secrets had been kept from her all these years. As she tried to wrap her head around this new information, she couldn't help but wonder about the implications this could have for her own identity. Was she still the same person she thought she was, or did this newfound knowledge change everything? The weight of these revelations settled heavily on Bitsy's shoulders as she grappled with the idea that her entire life had been built on a foundation of lies and half-truths.

"I..." Bitsy trailed off for a moment before finding her voice again. "I think I'm ready to go back to the hotel."

"Without even eating anything?" Konala asked, slightly surprised.

"Yeah, I don't know if I'm ready to accept all this yet. Besides, I don't want to miss the breakfast buffet."

"Oh... okay. Ruairí had a feeling that this was how you'd react."

After gulping down the last of Adela's tea, Bitsy jumped down from her seat and started heading for the front door. Konala, Mele, Ruairí, and Adela all exchanged glances at each other as she left. They knew that Bitsy was feeling overwhelmed and needed some time to process everything. Even so, Ruairí just sighed and shook his head, wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake doing this.