— Ever since I’ve been mayor, the balancing act has been difficult. You must understand. You have a job, I assume?
— I have a job, — Emma said, ignoring the condescension.
— Well, when you’re a single mother, it’s like having two full-time jobs. And so yes, I do push for order. I’m strict with him. But it’s for his own good. I want him to be successful; I don’t want him to feel like he was handed everything. But I don’t think that qualifies me as evil, exactly. Am I crazy?
— He’s only saying that because of the fairy tale thing.
— What fairy tale thing?
— You know, his book. He thinks everyone is a cartoon character from the book or something. I mean, the kid thinks his shrink is Jiminy Cricket. So.
Emma, who’d been staring at her drink, looked up at Regina and was surprised to see her looking rather alarmed.
— I’m sorry, — Regina said. — I really have no idea what you’re talking about.
Christ, she doesn’t know about the book, Emma thought. She was crossing way too many lines. She had to get out of here before she found a way to blow up the whole town.
— You know what? — Emma said. — I’m just going to go back to Boston, I think. I’m in your way here. I’m glad he’s safe.
Regina stood as Emma stood.
— I am, too, — she said, holding out her hand to shake. — I appreciate what you’ve done. I do. I’m glad he’s back home and safe. Thank you.
Emma didn’t think she could bring herself to say good-bye to Henry, and so she went directly to her car. She opened the door and almost made it in without looking back and up toward the bedroom windows.
She saw him there, briefly, before the light in the window went out.
She was leaving him again.
You’ll get over it, she told herself as she drove to the end of town, heading back toward Boston. The feelings would pass. And besides, now she knew where he was, knew that he was safe. That was something. Surely the mayor would let her come by now and then to say hello? She should have gotten her contact information. She should have…
Emma’s eye caught something sitting on the passenger seat. She squinted and turned on her interior light. It was his book. You sneaky bastard, she thought. She couldn’t help but smile. She had an excuse to come back now, at least.
Still smiling, distracted by the book, she almost didn’t see the wolf standing in the middle of the road.
Emma gasped, braked, and twisted the wheel all at once. The last thing she saw was the animal, unmoved, casually watching as her car skidded out of control. It didn’t even blink its bright red eyes.
* * *
Within their chambers, as the billowing clouds of ghostly fog spread throughout the land, filtering through the forests and surrounding the castle, Snow White screamed through her labor while Doc attended to her.
Charming hurried to her side and took her hand. He had tried to convince her to get into the wardrobe during the early stages, but she had refused, and in turn had convinced him it was too late. Now the plan would not work.
— She’s close! — Doc cried. — One more push!
And then Charming heard the cries, and saw the baby in Doc’s arms.
He turned to Snow, who looked exhausted, but who smiled nevertheless.
— Now, — she said. — Take her.
Charming frowned.
— What do you mean?
— Take her, — Snow White said. — Take her and put her in the wardrobe. It’s the only way.
— No! — he cried. — We have to all stay togeth…
— It’s the only way, — she insisted, and she pushed Emma to him. He took her. He looked down at her soft, beautiful young face.
He looked at Snow. She had a bad, bad habit of being right.
— Keep her safe, — Charming said to Doc, getting to his feet. — I won’t be a minute. — He ran out of the room, the baby tucked into his arms.
* * *
Emma came to and spent a moment staring at a concrete wall, wondering why she was not in her apartment, wondering why she was dressed, wondering why it was light outside, wondering what the hell had happened. She thought of the dream — the dream of her son, the dream of the town…
She rolled her head and saw the bars.
Oh.
She was in jail.
In Storybrooke, Maine.
A lean man, evidently the sheriff, stood over by his desk, looking at some papers. When he saw that she was up, he nodded to her.
— Good morning, — he said. — I’m Sheriff Graham. And you’re under arrest.
— Why am I in jail? — was all she said.
— You had a bit too much to drink last night, it seems. — He made a phantom tipping motion.
— I crashed because of the wolf. It was an accident.
— The wolf? — Graham said, and he seemed genuinely amused. — Do tell. I’ve heard some good ones, but that takes the cake.
Before he could continue to chide her, Regina Mills burst into the station, eyes wide. She went directly to Graham.
Emma, groggy, sat upright.
— Henry’s run away again, — Regina said. — We have to…
She saw Emma in the cell. — What is she doing here?
Before waiting for an answer, Regina strode over to the cell. — I see. This is not a coincidence, is it? Do you know where he is? — she demanded.
— Lady, I haven’t seen him since I left your place, — she said. She found herself much less interested in civility than she’d been the night before. She looked at Graham. — I got an alibi. Two, actually. This guy and a wolf.
Graham nodded.
— Well, I can vouch, at least. She’s been here all night.
— He wasn’t in his room this morning, — Regina said, and Emma could hear the real concern in her voice.
— How about his friends? — Emma said. — You tried them?
— He doesn’t have any.
Emma frowned. She didn’t like to hear that piece of information. It reminded her a little too much of herself.
— Every kid’s got friends. What about his computer? Did you check his email?
— And you know this how?
— I find people, lady, that’s my job, — Emma said. — Don’t get all worked up. Let me out of here and I’ll find him. Free of charge.
Regina and Graham shared a look.
— Then I’ll go home, — she added. She looked at Graham for a long time, making sure he understood the deal.
— Computers aren’t exactly my specialty, — Graham said. — And she does seem to know what she’s talking about.
Regina, frustrated, turned on her heel and headed for the door.
— Fine. Bring her. I just want to find my son. I don’t care how.
They drove back to Regina’s house, Emma in the back, looking out at the town, none of them speaking. Once inside, Regina led them up to Henry’s room, and Emma went directly to the computer.
— Kid’s smart, — she said, after a moment. — He cleaned out his inbox. — She dug out her key ring and held up a little flash drive. — Lucky for both of you, I’m smart, too. Little hard-drive utility I like to use. — She inserted it into Henry’s USB port and watched as the mirrored files detailing his recent activity transferred onto her drive.
— Does Henry have a credit card? — Emma asked.
— He’s too young, — Regina said, apparently irritated that she was making progress. — Of course not.
— Well, he used one, — said Emma, reading from the screen. — That’s how he got his bus ticket. Who is… Mary Margaret Blanchard? — she asked.
Regina, arms still crossed, looked furious. — His teacher, — she said. — I’m going to kill her.
— Aw, I’m sure he stole it from her, — Emma said. She stood up, closed Henry’s computer. — Come on. Let’s go to the school, then. Maybe she knows something.
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