Charlotte stared at the photographs on her desk. The ones Rachel had given her as she was leaving Rachel's apartment last week. The first one was a fairly recent picture of Beth. Her daughter. She still couldn't believe she had a daughter, but then looking at the photograph, it was hard not to believe it. Beth looked just like her.

The second picture was, according to Rachel, the only picture taken of her with Beth. Though Rachel had claimed that she hadn't been there when Beth was born, perhaps her mother had given her a copy. Charlotte wasn't quite sure how all this added up. But seeing Beth, even just her photograph… Call it a mother's intuition. Charlotte just knew that it was true, that all this was real.

And if Rachel's mother had adopted Charlotte's daughter, what did that make them? Rachel was technically her daughter's sister. Charlotte supposed all she really needed to know was that she was Rachel's publicist and Rachel was her client, but all this seemed so much more complicated than that.

And Rachel was kind of her friend now, right? They seemed friendly…

But then Charlotte was really Quinn. Or at least she used to be. She hadn't had another memory of her former life since she'd slapped Rachel. Of course that had only made her stomach churn.

Charlotte thought about if she even wanted her memories back. The one she'd remembered had made her feel horrible. Had she been that kind of person? She couldn't have been, right? Rachel seemed to have liked her back then, and Rachel doesn't seem the type to have liked a violent person.

Charlotte sighed. Rachel had said that Santana would be able to answer more of her questions, but how would Charlotte go about approaching Santana. It's not like they'd talked since that first day. Did Santana recognize her? She must have. She has to know, right? At the very least, Rachel must have said something.

Charlotte heard they key in the lock, as Scarlet let herself in.

"What are you doing?" Scarlet asked.

"Thinking," Charlotte said.

"About?"

"Who I used to be," Charlotte answered.

"Are you still thinking about that Quinn girl?" Scarlet asked.

"Scar," Charlotte said.

"Charlie."

"I remembered something," Charlotte said.

"That's great," Scarlet said. "What did you remember?"

"Slapping Rachel… in high school."

Scarlet didn't respond.

"It's real," Charlotte said. "I'm really her."

"But…"

"I don't know what happened," Charlotte said. And she really didn't. "I just…"

Silence.

"That's my daughter, Scar," Charlotte said, pointing at the pictures she'd been staring at for the better part of her morning.

"Her name is Beth."

Silence.

And more questions filled Charlotte's head. Did Beth know about her? Did Beth think she was dead? Did Beth think she'd abandoned her? What was Beth like? Was she happy? Did Beth ever wonder about her?

"Do you think she'll want to meet me someday?" Charlotte asked. She wasn't really asking Scarlet, even though Scarlet was the only person there. It was more of a verbal thought.

"She'd be crazy not to," Scarlet said. She put her arms loosely around Charlotte, and Charlotte leaned on her shoulder.

Rachel could arrange that. She could meet her daughter and Rachel could help her. Rachel always helps her. Rachel who was beautiful and kind and talented and…

"Shit," Charlotte said.

"What?" Scarlet asked.

"Don't be mad, okay?" Charlotte said.

"Charlie."

"I think I like Rachel," Charlotte whispers.

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