Mary Margaret took a couple of minutes to pull herself together, and when she did, she shook her head at her behaviour. What was wrong with her? Getting all weepy and emotional over something as simple as child giving her a hug? Perhaps, she thought, she was coming down with something – she did tend toward emotional lability when she was sick or sleep deprived.
She lifted her head and found one of her students had noticed her minor distress and was watching her with concern. She smiled cheerily and waved at Nicole to prove she was fine. Nicole grinned and waved back before returning her attention to the girl at the head of the skipping rope line.
That taken care of, her attention returned to the student in her arms. The little girl had not made any attempt to move from her position in Mary Margaret's arms while she was attempting to rein in her emotional control. Her head remained pillowed on Mary Margaret's right shoulder, arms and legs wrapped around her in a monkey grip that had grown a little looser over the last couple of minutes.
Mary Margaret stroked the girl's back again, as she realised that she had been absent-mindedly doing that for a while now.
"Are you falling asleep on me, little one?" Mary Margaret queried softly, the affection she was feeling clear in her voice.
There was a sluggish pause before Emma responded.
"No."
Mary Margaret's lips twitched in amusement. She sounded half asleep, and she hadn't raised her heavy head from Mary Margaret's shoulder.
Clearly the child needed a nap.
Mary Margaret decided she would have to take her to the kindergarten teacher. She didn't spend much time at that end of the school, but she assumed they probably had mats or something of the like for the young children to have naps on as they were adjusting to the full day school routine.
Of course, Mary Margaret reasoned, she couldn't ask the child to walk. She was clearly too tired. She would simply have to carry the little girl to the class and endure the continuing cuddle. Just then though, the school bell rang to signal the end of recess.
Her class! Mary Margaret frowned; she would have to get them organised first. She weaved her way through the children running back to their classrooms and retrieved Emma's backpack from the ground where she had dropped it, squatting awkwardly to reach it with her arms full of Emma.
Emma gave a brief noise of discontent at the movement, thinking Mary Margaret meant to put her down. Mary Margaret hushed her and gave her back another comforting rub before grabbing the bag and standing. She hooked her arm through the shoulder strap so her hand was free to return to Emma. Four-year-old and backpack in tow, she headed for her classroom as quickly as she could without disturbing Emma.
When she reached her classroom, most of her kids were already seated, and the others quickly followed suit. Twenty-three pairs of eyes fixed curiously on the little girl their teacher had brought into their classroom.
"Welcome back everyone - let's get our reading books," Miss Blanchard instructed, and waited until they did so.
"Now open them to where we left off in chapter six."
There was a rustling of pages as the children found their places.
"Nicole," Mary Margaret crooked her finger and smiled as the girl jumped up from her seat, delighted to be picked. "I have to return this sleepy little girl to the kindergarten class, and while I'm gone, I need you to lead the class in reading. Do you think you could do that for me?"
"Yes, Miss Blanchard!"
"Do you remember what we did last time? One page each, row by row?"
Nicole nodded affirmatively.
"Okay! Thank-you very much Nicole."
To the class as a whole she added further instruction.
"I'll just be gone for a few minutes. If you have any troubles, please ask Mrs Marks next door to help you. And remember, Nicole's the leader today, let's all do our very best to support her."
"Yes, Miss Blanchard," came their reply.
Mary Margaret smiled and left her class to continue the story. She briefly stuck her head into Mrs Mark's classroom to ask her to keep an ear out for her class while she stepped out, and then continued on to the lower school.
She knocked on the kindergarten class's door and was shortly greeted by their teacher, Mrs Smith, along with a couple of her more curious pupils.
"Hello," Mary Margaret smiled at the small children and then to Mrs Smith she indicated her burden. "One of your little people is very tired today. Is there somewhere we can put her down to rest?"
Mrs Smith's eyebrows jumped in surprise, and she turned back to her class looking to see if anyone was missing. Her brow furrowed and she leaned forward to examine the little face on Mary Margaret's shoulder. She shook her head negatively.
"This isn't one of mine, Miss Blanchard."
She saw the confusion on Mary Margaret's face and added a suggestion.
"I think what you have on your hands is a little Houdini from the pre-school down the street."
"Oh, really?" Mary Margaret's eyes went round and wide at the thought. "Oh dear. I better call them."
Mrs Smith nodded in agreement.
"You can use my phone," she offered, and indicated the tiny office that adjoined the kindergarten classroom.
Mary Margaret thanked her, and went into the small room. She dropped Emma's bag on the floor and picked up the phone. Five minutes of conversation with a very confused pre-school teacher later, she put down the handset and dropped into the office chair. She wasn't from the school and the preschool wasn't missing anyone either… so where did she come from?
Mary Margaret took a deep breath and did her best to hide her concerns before she gently wakened the little girl.
"Hi sweetie," She smiled at the girl whose cheek was now imprinted with the lace pattern from Mary Margaret's collar. Emma yawned in response, and drooped forward, obviously not ready to wake.
"I know you're tired little one, but could you do me a big favour?"
The little girl drowsily nodded in response, and waited for the request.
"Could you tell me your name?" Mary Margaret asked, stroking the red lace patterned mark on her cheek.
A flicker of confusion ran across her face at Mary Margaret's question, but after a moment, the child responded.
"My name's Emma Swan!" the little girl whispered to her, as if confiding a very important secret.
Mary Margaret smiled at this adorable display, and responded in kind.
"Well, hello Emma, I'm Miss Blanchard," she whispered just as Emma had done.
Emma stared at her, the smile fading from her face gradually as she looked for something in Mary Margaret's eyes and failed to find it. Emma shifted her position in Mary Margaret's lap, leaning back as if trying to get a better view of her. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and her bottom lip began to tremble ever so slightly.
"Don't - don't you remember me?"
The deep hurt in the Emma's voice broke Mary Margaret's heart. She didn't understand how she'd caused it, but she desperately wanted to make her smile again. Mary Margaret's forehead creased as she searched her memory. She wondered where she could have met this child who was so convinced she should be remembered. She wracked her brain, but just couldn't recall ever seeing this little girl before today.
Emma could read the expression on Mary Margaret's face but she couldn't understand it. This was her Mommy. She had different hair now, but it was still definitely her. This was the woman who'd tried to save her from the bad man. The person who'd wanted her; who loved her. Emma had seen it when her mother had begged for her not to be harmed. She knew it was true.
So how could it be also be true that this woman had completely forgotten her?
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to find her Mommy and Daddy and they were supposed to love her and keep Bridget from ever taking her back to the group home ever again. Her Mommy wasn't supposed to ask her name and look at her like she was her a stranger.
Emma couldn't help it. She burst into tears.