Cliffside Home Addiction Recovery Center. Dr. Thomas has three exit questions for Charlotte. Number one: "Do your thoughts often feel clouded or confusing?" Not since she stopped using. Number two: "Do you believe that you can see or hear things others cannot?" Charlotte's bad at this game. She starts to rail about the fact nobody can see her father's machinations that have kept her locked up against her will. Knowing full well she's losing, Charlie demands Dr. Thomas ask the final question. "Do you believe others are plotting against you?" Well... shit. Charlotte: "..."
Ems comes back inside Casa Emily to find Nolan calling her over to the surveillance laptop because WHM is in the middle of paying Victoria a visit. He's impatient because he's kept the Initiative off Victoria's trail for months and he's upheld his end of the bargain. WHM tosses her a manila envelope with two passports. The photos are of her and Charlotte with the names being Veronica and Samantha Clarke. Cute, WHM. Emanda tells Nolan she won't allow Victoria to escape with her sister. Half-sister, Ems. Half-sister. WHM isn't too pleased to hear that Victoria can't afford to pay him for his work until Charlotte gets her hands on her inheritance. He snatches Victoria's fake passport, reminds her that it's really easy to dispose of a woman who's already dead and a drug addict and leaves. Emanda thinks the punishment should fit the crime. Victoria took away her mother, so she'll take away the Queen's daughter.
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Docks. Declan cleans up The Amanda when he's met by some kid who looks like he's straight out of an American Eagle catalogue. He's Trey Chandler from study hall. Trey throws out an invitation to come sailing with some classmates to a beach where there'll be cute girls in bikinis, but Dec is forever burdened with the working man's life. He declines. "Sucks to be you," Trey throws at Dec as he walks away. Declan's well aware of how much it sucks to be him. Trey's overly friendly smile fades into a stare of daggers into Dec's back when he walks away. What could he possibly want with our favorite grease puddle?