How many times will this happen again?

She watches as Gold fiddles with his magical tools, and wonders if this will ever end, this constant of her life – hurting the people she loves most, with her mistakes, with her past actions, with her darkness.

She feels the burn on Henry's hand, like it is on her own – all because of me, because I wanted to end the Savior, and now he has nightmares. Oh, Henry, I'm sorry.

She wonders if she'll ever stop asking for Henry's forgiveness. If someone has to suffer, it should be me. Not Henry.

I'm sorry.