A/N: Okay, so this idea has been swimming around in my head for some time, and I'm just now starting to put the details together. Basically, Emma Ford is James' cousin, and this story is an alternate version of seasons 2 and 3. Boone and Shannon are alive, the raft was never launched, therefore Walt was never kidnapped, and instead of using Michael to capture Jack, Kate, and Sawyer, Ben instead uses Emma to get Jack to do the surgery. Make any sense? Hopefully it will. Someday. :) Anyway, enough rambling. This first chapter is more of a prologue, really, so you can get to know Emma a little bit before I launch into the whole thing. Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated.

"Emma Jane Ford, this court has found you guilty of prostitution. You are hereby sentenced to 30 days in the state penitentiary, along with a $5,000 fine and a lifetime of humiliation. What say you?"

"What? No!" Emma screamed as she was dragged off to her cell, "Please, this is a mistake, this can't be happening! NO!"

She jolted awake in terror, sheathed in a cold sweat, her heart pounding. Just a dream, Emma. It was just a dream, she told herself. Unfortunately, the words failed to make her feel any better. It was just a dream…for now. But she knew all too well that it could very soon become a reality. Four years of selling herself to get through med school was definitely getting to her.

Now that she'd graduated and earned a spot on the staff of Mass Gen, her life was finally about to start. She could finally escape the hell that had become her reality over the past few years, but she was harboring a secret that could ruin it all in a heartbeat. She had the feeling her patients wouldn't like to be treated by someone whose back story was entitled "I Was a Harvard Hooker". As if her family's name hadn't been raked through the coals enough already.

Sleep was an impossibility after waking from that nightmare. All Emma could do was think. Think about her life, about her secrets, about the events that had led her to commit acts of such desperation…

FLASHBACK

"Emma! Emma! Were you aware of your father's involvement with the mob? Are you happy they caught your father's killers? How do you want them to be brought to justice?" The reporters bombarded Emma and her mother outside the courthouse, shoving microphones in their faces, obnoxiously trying to pry information that Emma wasn't willing to give. She kept her head down, clung to her mother's arm, and walked briskly to the car. It was all a hazy blur. Somewhere nearby, she heard their family's lawyer repeat, "No comment, please, leave them be". Emma felt numb. Her father had two bullets in the back of his head, how the hell did these reporters think she felt? Sadistic morons.

The car door slammed, and Emma exhaled deeply, sitting back in her seat and closing her eyes the whole way home. Their Park Avenue penthouse felt empty now; the absence of her father was already weighing heavily on the former warmth of the household.

The next morning, Emma found her mother sobbing over a bowl of Kashi cereal. "They're taking it all, Emma." she said.

Emma's brow furrowed, "Who? Taking what?"

"The house, the cars, everything. The bank's taking all of it."

"Wh-what? Why?" Emma exclaimed in confusion.

"Your father owed a lot of money to a lot of people, apparently…"

"Wait, that's why you're crying right now? Not because daddy's dead, but because…we have no money?"

"I've already cried enough for your father, Emmaline." her mother said coldly.

"We can always get more money, mother, but we'll never get another one of daddy. I can't believe you! I always knew you were shallow, but this is a whole new low, even for you." Emma's coldness mirrored her mother's as she spoke. "Excuse me." she said in an icily disdainful tone, storming out of the house. She needed to take a walk through Central Park; that always helped to clear her head.

Emma returned a few hours later, feet sore, but head much clearer. Unfortunately, the feeling wouldn't last long.

She found her mother on the bathroom floor, an empty bottle of painkillers resting in her limp hand. "Mom? Mom! Wake up, please!" she begged, to no avail, shaking her mother's lifeless body and sobbing until she could no longer deny it. Not only was her father gone, but now her mother was, too, and it was all her fault…what the hell was she supposed to do now?

END FLASHBACK

Time had hardened Emma. She used to be just another Upper East Sider, just another girl with a rich daddy. She used to be carefree. Her biggest worries included "Will that cute senior ask me to formal?" and "Did I get an A on my calculus final?" She used to have so many friends she couldn't keep count, and now she was a loner. It was the only way to get by.

She'd survived four years of med school and prostitution, and now it was nearly time to begin her residency. Maybe she could finally put the past behind her once and for all. Redeem herself. Save lives. Make up for the ones she'd taken from her parents. If her father hadn't been paying all of her expenses, he'd never have owed so much money, and he wouldn't have been killed. If she'd just supported herself instead of relying on him, things would be so different now. She knew she couldn't escape what she'd done, but maybe there was still hope for her.

The day after she'd had her nightmare, just a few weeks before she was scheduled to begin her residency, fate intervened, in the form of a man named Richard Alpert. He told her he was with a place called Mittelos Bioscience, in Portland. He told her that some of her Harvard professors had recommended her for their program, and it was very prestigious. Emma was intrigued, but she couldn't help but have some reservations. "Mr. Alpert, with all due respect...I don't think I'm quite what you're looking for."

"On the contrary. I think you're exactly what we're looking for, Emmaline. What do you say? Just give it a few months, and if you don't like it, we'll fly you back home."

Emma paused. Maybe this was a good idea. Maybe she needed to get as far away from the east coast as circumstances would allow, and this was her shot. It could be a new life, a new beginning. A real fresh start. "I'm in."