Ruby had set the table in the dining room, and as people began to filter in, Regina decided it was best to take her lunch in her room. She didn't have to excuse herself - Ruby hadn't said anything after their conversation in the kitchen - and so she grabbed her plate and headed up the hallway stairs. She was about to round a corner when the sound of voices - Emma's in particular - drifted towards her.

"I thought we talked about this! We agreed that you were going to stay away from her!" Regina could tell that Emma was trying to keep quiet, but anger made her voice carry through the wide, echoing halls of the house.

"I didn't agree to anything!" Henry shot back, making less of an effort. He was met by a shush from his mother but he ignored her, continuing, "This isn't fair!"

"What's not fair is what you're doing to yourself!" This time the words were hushed, barely audible to Regina. "She's gone, Henry. You need to move on. Listen to me. Just keep your distance."

There was a pause, and then Henry hissed back, "She is not gone. She always finds a way. Why do you never believe me?" After that there was only silence, followed by the slamming of a door and Emma's hefty sigh.

There was a shuffling of feet and Regina ducked back a few steps as Emma neared.

"Oh...hey." Emma stuttered, uncharacteristically flustered. "I, uh…" She pressed a hand to her forehead, and when she dropped it she finally met Regina's eyes. "How much of that did you hear?"

Regina shrugged. Part of her, a surprisingly big part that ached something fierce for a reason she could not claw out of the fog that shrouded her mind, wanted to tell Emma she'd heard it all. Wanted to question her, to demand the truth, to -

She swallowed, pulling herself out of the wave of emotion. She'd only just met these people; Why should she care so much what they thought of her?

Instead, she only shrugged. "Not much. Sounded like a teenager," She offered Emma what she hoped was a friendly smile.

Emma didn't return it, instead opting to eye her with suspicion. Regina could see past the mask, though, and behind it there was only pain. "Right. Well," She began, shoving her hands into her back pockets, "If you did hear anything, you should take my advice too. Keep your distance," She added, and then brushed past Regina, elbow skimming Regina's arm as she did.

Regina drew in a deep breath, knuckles whitening as she tightened her grip on her plate. She knew she shouldn't, but… "Ruby told me about your ex." The words were out before she could stop them. Emma's footsteps came to an abrupt halt, and a pang of regret flashed through her chest. "I'm sorry for your loss," she continued, unable to force herself to turn around, the knowledge that she'd said the wrong thing, that was broaching a topic far beyond her bounds weighing heavy like a pit in her stomach. Her heart thumped in her chest as she waited for a response.

But her words were met with only silence, and then the heavy echo of Emma's footsteps as she descended the stairs, taking out her anger on the aged wood.

"I'm sorry about last night. I overstepped."

Emma's chin jerked up at Regina's words and she studied her with narrowed eyes. Just like before, there was a moment of vulnerability before the mask slammed back into place. She'd been hunched over a book at the kitchen table, though Regina had noticed that she wasn't actually turning the pages. Her fingers worried at the bottom right corner, where the paper and cover were starting to unravel. Emma swallowed, closing the book and placing it neatly in front of her. "It's fine."

"Was it recent?" Regina asked after a few moments of silence, deciding to push her bounds once again. "Your ex, I mean." Something had softened in the other woman since their last interaction, she could tell, if only slightly.

Emma shook her head, leaning back in her chair. "You're overstepping again," was all she gave by way of answer, and her eyes remained steely, but there was a smirk playing at the edge of her lips, and she didn't pick up her book again. "You're a brave one, Regina Mills."

Regina licked her lips and decided to take this as an opening. "I've been meaning to ask you something," She tried again, leaning back against the countertop and sizing Emma up. At least the blonde made eye contact now, however fleeting.

"And what's that?"

"That first night I was here, after your mother found me outside. When you were in the dining room. You said hello, Regina."

"And?"

Regina raised an eyebrow. "You knew my name. I hadn't introduced myself to anyone yet."

Emma shrugged. "Oh, that. Yeah, my mom went through your wallet." She laughed as Regina tensed. "Relax, I think she was trying to find an emergency contact or something." She paused, letting her eyes trail over Regina. "Clearly she didn't find one, since you're still here."

"Clearly not," Regina agreed, her stomach twisting once again. She peered out the window, once again eyeing the garage where her car was supposedly being fixed. The sun had dipped below the horizon and darkness was quickly falling, but she could make out the building by the artificial lights spilling from the windows. Her benz was her baby, and she wasn't too happy about it being in the hands of a stranger. One that she had never even laid eyes on, at that.

She jumped when she realized she was being watched, sloshing a tiny bit of her tea down her chest. There, in the window of the garage, was the silhouette of a man, backlit against the glass by harsh yellow lights. Regina could barely make out any features, but as she watched a lazy smile spread across his face, and he raised his hand in a slow, awkward wave that lasted just too long for comfort. Swallowing, Regina lifted her own in a weak response. A memory seized her and she shuddered, images of a man, his face barely held together, drooping at one side as he shuffled towards her, one hand trailing along a car - her car -

"Who are you waving to?"

Regina jumped again, yanked out of the haunting vision by the other woman's voice. Her chest felt tight and she shook her head, trying to clear the pictures from her mind. They'd felt so real, but...it was just the concussion, right? She turned to see Emma no longer in her seat, standing too close to her, with a protective hand hovering over Regina's arm. Her gaze was locked on the garage, and panic had laced her voice. Without waiting for Regina to respond Emma turned back to the other woman, ripping a paper towel from the dispenser. She took the tea from Regina's hands, frowning, and wiped the liquid from her chest, dabbing gently at Regina's skin. She was close enough that Regina could smell her light perfume, see the hazel flecks in her green eyes. Regina took in a sharp breath and at the motion Emma pulled back as if she'd been burned, and the moment was gone.

"Your car is fine. Stay away from the garage." Emma chucked the soiled paper towel into the trash can with far more force than such a simple action warranted. "Mary Margaret keeps her antiques in there. They're fragile."

That night, Regina slipped out of her room, turning the knob on her door as she went so the heavy wood would close with only a soft thump. The halls were lit with ornate fixtures reminiscent of gas lamps, bathing the paintings and filigree in a sickly yellow glow. She was determined to do some exploring. Something about this place - about these people, especially Mary Margaret - was off. A shudder ran through her as she remembered the way the woman's eyes had glazed over when they were talking, the way she seemed to fade back into her own mind at the mention of the past. And then there was that man in the garage. She shuddered as the images of a half-decayed face flashed through her mind once again. And why did he only wave?

Voices pulled her out of her thoughts and she ducked against the wall, relaxing when she realized they were down an adjacent hall from her, too far away to notice her. Mary Margaret stood outside her room, wrapped in a plush baby blue robe, feet bare against the carpet. Emma stood in front of her mother, still fully clothed in the same pair of tight jeans and a sweater even though it was well past one in the morning.

"She's a social worker?!" Emma's arms were folded tight to her chest. She was leaning in close to her mother, voice hushed but laced with anger. "You made her work with kids? Are you kidding me?"
"I thought it would make it easier for her to bond with Henry!"

"Well you were right! She's going to want to talk to him, and what do you think is going to happen then?" Emma shot back. "He's going to tell her stories like he always does, and she'll believe, and then we'll be right back here again. You're only making this harder on him." Mary Margaret frowned, eyes to the ground. "You're taking her away from him and then giving her back over and over again. It's not fair to him. If you wanted to make it easier on him you should be keeping them apart."

"He can handle it," Mary Maragaret began, voice barely a whisper, but Emma cut her off.

"He shouldn't have to! For god's sake, you know what she means to him! This is cruel! One time was bad enough, but four? Five? When will you stop?"

"I'll stop when she stays!" Mary Margaret snapped. Her hand shot up to grasp the locket around her neck, fingers worrying at the polished silver surface and fingernails clicking over the seam.

Emma took a step back. When she spoke the heat of anger had drained from her voice, replaced with a hard iciness. "We both know that's not really what you're after." Her eyes were locked with her mother's, searching for something. Her muscles relaxed as if she was accepting defeat, but her eyes still burned. "You're lucky I've had a lot of practice lying in my life. Henry hasn't. If you know what's good for him, you'll keep them apart." With that she turned, stalking off down the hall towards the bend where Regina was hiding. Regina ducked further into the shadows. She wasn't able to see the other women anymore, but she could still hear them. She should probably turn back before Emma noticed her, but -

"You'd be happier if you let her in, you know." Mary Margaret's voice was small as she called after her daughter. "Things could be like they used to."

When Emma spoke again, there was no more anger. Her words were soft. "No. They really can't, mom. Not after what you did." She didn't look back.

The silence hung in the air, the only sound the small click of the hinge as Mary Margaret popped her locket open and closed again, and then the soft click of a door as she slipped back inside her room. Regina waited, but there was no more noise, and figuring Emma must have turned down a different hall, she slowly removed herself from the wall.

"You should go back to your room."

She jumped at the noise, whipping around to see that Emma was still in the hall, leaning against the wall a few doors down from her mother's room with her arms folded and eyes locked to her feet. As Regina watched she kicked off the wall and met her gaze. "And stop snooping. It won't do you any good." With that she turned, ducking into the room to the left of her and slamming the door behind her. The noise echoed through the halls, rattling far too harsh in their skeletal walls for comfort.