Hello, this will be a new story that will slowly be updated with about 3000-4000 words per chapter. This is the Prologue for the story, explaining the beginning. This is somthing that has been on my mind for ages and I just can't ignore it. I have decided that I will be updating The Thorns of Secrets in about a week, and Caving In will take longer since I promised a long chapter. this tory will be updated rather unregularly, but this is the one I will b working in the hardest I can, because this story does THINGS to my feels.

Dear Henry is about how Regina has written letters to Henry frm the day that he wasadopted to the day she died. In this story Henry is almost Eighteen and finds himself in Regina's house to sort through all her things when he stumbles upon the stacks and stacks of letters for him. This way he relives every one of his memorable moments through his Mother's eyes.

I hope you will like this story as much as I do myself and my friends who are proof reading it for me. Enjoy!

x R.

Dear Henry.

Prologue

It was the first week after her death. He couldn't even believe that she was actually gone now. Gone and never coming back. Tears were already welling up in his eyes as he unlocked the door of the enormous mansion.

God it looked haunted without his brunette mother waltzing around here. Saying he should hang his coat away and take off his shoes, because otherwise she would have to clean all the mud and dirt away they left behind.

The house was so quiet. Too quiet for him. And also there were no aromas wafting through the air with one if the new creations she thought of making to calm whatever nerves had made their way on the surface.

He had come to the mansion to clean his mom's stuff away and keep whatever he wanted to keep before throwing the rest away or giving it away to other people.

For some reason the study was calling to him, somewhere where he never actually was allowed to come. It was her private place. A place where she could relax and calm down after whoever had set her temper off this time. Of course he had been there before, he was a curious little kid, it was obvious that he would explore every little nook and cranny in the house when his mother was away.

He walked into the study and the scent there overwhelmed him. It smelled so much like her. The Apple scent mixed with vanilla and even a hint of lavender. The smell surrounded him and made fresh tear tracks appear on his cheeks.

She was only gone for one week and still the loss of her was already eating at him. Especially that she died all alone. with nobody there for her, but him being at home in the weekends. He already felt like there was now a hole in his heart. Something that couldn't be filled. Not even by his birth mother Emma, the mother he thought would fix everything years ago. That would show him that his adoptive mother never loved him, something he was so very wrong about and after he realised that always tried to fix.

And now, three weeks before he turns eighteen, here he is. In the house of a mother that loved him more than life itself. A mother that would do anything, and everything for him. God, he was so incredibly lucky to have been loved in such a strong and deep way. He was such an idiot to think that she hadn't loved him. He was such a brat to have screamed at her that she was evil, that she didn't love him and that he hated her. He still doesn't understand how he could have been so foolish. How he wasn't able to see the love shining in her beautiful brown eyes every time she looked at him, the hurt that shone in them every time she had to say goodbye to him, or when he did something hurtful to her. But still every time he came back to her, she forgave him and welcomed him with open arms and a soft kiss to his forehead. That would never happen again.

Because seven days ago Regina Mills died.

He sat down behind the desk and looked through the drawers, when he found one filled with letters. His eyes widened when he saw that every letter was addressed to him. Written in the beautiful cursive writing he recognized to be his late mother's. the whole drawer was filled to the brink with letters to him, something that made his eyes water again. He looked at the letters and saw there werestacks of them, and they were all numbered, and so he took the one with number one on it and with trembling hands, he opened it.