Amy looked over the crib. The crib of her new baby. Her daughter. Her baby fussed and cried. Amy lifted her up. "Shh, shh," she hushed, "There now, Lily. Mommy's here."
The front door opened, and in came Kyl. "Honey, I'm home!" he said.
Amy rushed to greet him. She gave him a big hug, so big he nearly fell over on her.
"Woah, woah!" he laughed, "Groceries!" he held up a bag of food.
"Right, sorry," said Amy. She took herself off of him.
A smile was on Kyl's face. "Don't be, honey."
"I'll take those to the kitchen."
"Alright. How's our little Lily doing?" Kyl asked as he followed Amy into the kitchen. Amy placed the bags onto the counter.
"Oh, she's darling," she replied with a smile.
"Did you hear about Henry?"
"No. What about him?"
Kyl sat down at the dinner table, and inspected his nails. "Well, dear, that teacher of his—Mary Margaret Blanchard—she was given this book by Mrs. Flake, or Fjordine, or whatever Elsa's last name is now. It had all these fairytales and creepypastas in it. Miss Blanchard gave the book to Henry. Now Henry thinks we're all characters from it."
Amy became very interested and sat down as well. "Who's who?" she asked.
Kyl smirked. "Well, uh, let's see—he thinks Miss Blanchard is Snow White, the nuns are fairies, Judge Hopper is Jiminy Cricket, and—get a load of this—the mayor, his mother, is the Evil Queen!"
Amy laughed. "No way! That's…" her tone became sad, "that's a little sad. To think his own mother is evil."
"Yeah, just wait 'till you hear who we are," said Kyl.
"Who?" she asked.
"He thinks…" he said, "He thinks I'm the Rake. And you…you're Ariel."