Emma adjusted her glasses, pushing them further up her nose as she bent over her tray of spaghetti and meatballs. The cafeteria was bustling with students as usual. Emma slipped her headphones on to drown out the boisterous chatter and laughter that filled the air. As the familiar notes of Only You by Yazoo started to play, she twirled her fork and gathered a tangle of spaghetti that was smothered in red sauce. She had first heard the song a couple years ago and fallen in love with it immediately.

x

It was the night before the first day of high school and Emma was rifling through her closet, trying to put together a good outfit for the next day. The boy who lived across the street liked to play his music loudly with his bedroom window wide open and the voice of Lou Reed floated straight from his room to Emma's. He was always listening to Lou Reed. His favourite song was Charley's Girl. Emma knew because that was the one he listened to most often.

She laid a white flower print dress and a denim jacket on her bed just as the final notes of Charley's Girl faded away. The next song that started playing was unfamiliar, a sudden break in the stream of Lou Reed hits. Emma didn't recognise the song or the artist but she liked the whimsical quality of the music and she nodded her head along to the beat. When she looked out her window, she could see directly into the house across the street. The music was coming from the upstairs window. The boy - Neal - was dancing around his room and singing into a hairbrush like it was a microphone.

Emma smiled as she watched him. He was facing away from the window so she couldn't see his expression, but his movements were energetic and carefree. The light in his room cast a buttery glow over everything, making his brown hair gleam and the tan skin peeking out from his white vest glisten.

Suddenly, the door to his bedroom whipped open as if blown by a strong gust of wind. Emma jumped back from the window, out of sight. The music stopped. Then there was yelling. She recognised the voice, feminine and slurred. This was not the first time Neal's mother - Milah - had gotten into a screaming match with her son late at night. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew that she had a drinking problem.

Eventually, the argument ended. After a few moments of quiet, Emma peeked through her window. Across the street, Neal's room was dark and his window was shut.

Emma gathered the dress and jacket from her bed and folded it over the chair by her desk. She switched the light off and then climbed into bed, wishing she could have asked Neal what that song was called. The few lyrics she remembered repeated in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

x

Emma hit the repeat button on her phone's music app and Only You started from the beginning. She pulled three cups of chocolate pudding from her jacket pockets. Technically, each student was only supposed to have one pudding but it had been too easy to steal the extra two while no one was looking.

Digging into the creamy chocolate treat, she looked up to see Neal weaving in between the rows of crowded cafeteria tables. Part of her hoped that he would walk straight towards her and sit down. There was no one else at her table. She could have chosen to have lunch with her friends - Lily from astronomy class or Regina from history class - but she preferred to spend the hour in solitude. Still, she wouldn't have minded if Neal chose to join her.

Of course he didn't. They didn't talk much at school or acknowledge each other with anything more than a nod or a wave. Their relationship was mostly sneaking through each other's window late at night, hands wandering in the dark, whispering things in the shadows that they were afraid to admit to anyone else.

Neal stopped at the table next to hers and started talking to another dark-haired boy. His name was August and Emma knew that Neal had a complicated relationship with him. They weren't exactly friends even though they hung out together sometimes. They were more like reluctant business partners, as Neal put it.

Emma set her pudding cup on the table and paused her music, so she could listen to their conversation. Neal met her eyes over August's shoulder and he raised his hand as if about to wave.

Emma started to wave back but then Neal's hand froze and she realised he wasn't waving at her. He was just trying to show August something on his wrist. Instead of waving, Emma reached for her ponytail and pretended to tighten it while she watched Neal. As the sleeve of his rust-coloured leather jacket rode up his arm, it exposed the expensive-looking gold watch Neal was wearing, which he had undoubtedly stolen.

Emma knew that Neal was a thief. It was something they had in common.

There were rumours about Neal being involved in some shady business. People didn't understand why he associated himself with deviants like August or why he had to steal when his father was one of the richest, most powerful people in town. Emma understood why. He had explained it to her on their first date, if it could be called that.

x

Emma was sprawled on her bed with her laptop open. She scrolled through pages and pages of popular travel destinations. Sometimes when she was alone at home, her mind would wander, and she would daydream about running away to some faraway place.

It's not like her life in Storybrooke was so bad. She didn't have much to complain about but sometimes she would be struck with the feeling of being lost, like she didn't belong. Maybe it was because she was adopted and never knew her real parents. Maybe it was because her adoptive parents were hardly home. They were good people, well-respected in the neighbourhood, always attending charity events and participating in projects to help improve the community. Unfortunately, they were always so busy trying to help other people, Emma couldn't help feeling like she was never as important as the greater good.

It was the night of the school dance and her parents were out at some event again. A few people had asked her to go to the dance with them but Emma had declined. She didn't feel like making small talk and dancing to cheesy pop music.

Now she was staring at the framed map hanging on her wall, trying to decide where she would go. Her gaze drifted towards a coastal area and Emma imagined herself on a beach, enjoying the sun and the waves.

The fantasy was interrupted by a rap on her window. Sometimes birds pecked at the windowpane or the leaves of the tree outside blew against the glass on windy days, but this sound was different. Two quick knocks, a pause, and then another knock.

Emma jolted upright and closed her laptop. Nervously, she padded closer to the window. At first, it didn't seem like anyone was there, but then as Emma tilted her head to look at the tree that extended up along the side of her window, she noticed Neal clinging to one of the woody branches.

"Neal." She still whispered, even though she knew no one was home.

"Hey." He smiled, his eyes crinkling around the corners.

After her surprise at seeing him faded, Emma stepped aside to let him in. Neal dropped from the branch and slipped through the open window. He landed with a soft, practiced thud like he had a lot of experience with sneaking into places he shouldn't be.

Emma wasn't sure what to do. She needed something to do with her hands, so she adjusted her glasses and then smoothed her red checkered dress.

"Why aren't you at the dance?" Neal asked, brushing leaves and twigs from his jacket and pants.

Emma shrugged. "It's not really my scene." She answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Why aren't you?"

Neal looked around her room, his gaze bouncing from the map on the wall to her cluttered desk to the polaroid pictures taped to her mirror. Finally, his eyes locked with hers. "It's not really my scene either." He started to pad around her room, examining the poster of an old-school band on her closet door.

The band probably wasn't considered cool anymore. She had put the poster up years ago and never got around to taking it down. She was about to tell Neal that, but he spoke before she could. "Want to get out of here?"

Emma lifted her gaze to look at him while she thought about it. Her parents wouldn't be home until much later that night and they thought she was at the dance. The idea of sneaking out with this mysterious boy seemed dangerous and exciting. Before she could think about it too much, Emma nodded and stood up from the bed. "Yeah, okay." She put a black leather jacket on over her dress and then laced up a matching pair of black boots. "Ready to go."

x

The sun was just starting to set as they left Emma's house. All the almost identical white houses in the neighbourhood were coloured a faint orange in the fading light. They walked down the street side-by-side without talking. Emma could hear the sound of traffic in the distance and the synchronous echo of their boots against the pavement but it all felt muted, overshadowed by her too-loud breathing. Her heart was racing, not just from the brisk walking pace, but from excitement also.

When they were almost at the intersection Emma slowed a little and turned her head to glance at Neal. "So, where are we going?"

"To the record store." Neal answered. "I thought we could compare our tastes in music." He smiled, almost shyly, and raised an eyebrow like he was asking a question.

Emma stopped walking. When Neal realised, he swivelled and stopped too, so they were standing face to face. He ran a hand through his hair. "Or we can do something else." He said, lowering his gaze to the pavement.

Emma shifted from foot to foot, trying to find the right words. "No, Neal. I would love to do that, but I can't go to the record store."

Neal lifted his gaze to meet hers. His eyebrows scrunched together, confused or curious or both. "Why not?"

Emma's cheeks felt hot and she knew she was probably blushing. A moment of tense silence passed until she eventually continued. "I got caught trying to steal records a couple times. I'm not allowed to go there anymore." Before Neal could react, she looked down at her boots, at the lace that had come slightly undone. It was easier to focus on that than have to see the disappointed or judgemental expression that was probably on Neal's face.

"What records?"

The playful tone of his voice surprised her. Emma's gaze snapped back up to see Neal grinning. She pushed her glasses up on her nose, unable to hide her own smile.

She started to list artists and albums, pausing as she struggled to recall the names. It had happened about a year ago and the memories were hazy. She had mostly been concerned about her upstanding parents discovering that their daughter was a no-good thief, and the exact names of the records she tried to steal did not seem like very important details at the time.

She only managed to remember two records. Although, the album cover of a third lingered in her memory. Maybe if she described it to Neal, he might know which record she was talking about.

Before she could speak, he took a step towards her and she immediately forgot what she was about to say. The watery memory of the album cover faded away completely. All she could see was Neal in front of her, his soft brown eyes turning gold in the sunset, his tousled hair stirring in the breeze. His lips parted, tongue darting along his bottom lip.

Emma took a step towards him. It was a small step, since there wasn't much space between them, but it was more of a hint. If he wanted to kiss her, she wanted to kiss him too.

Neal dipped his head, leaning closer to her. His breath fanned her lips and Emma realised just how close they were. She tensed when his hand came up to cup the side of her face. His touch was gentle, fingers lightly brushing her cheek. It was almost comforting but a prickle of nervousness creeped its way through Emma's body. She had never done this before and she wasn't sure what to do next. Her hands fidgeted awkwardly at her sides, itching for something to do.

Neal must have felt her stiffen because he started to pull back. Without much thought, Emma reached for his arm and he stopped moving. Her hand drifted higher up to grip his bicep and pull him closer.

Their lips met, and whatever awkwardness or apprehension she had been feeling earlier faded away. Her heartbeat quickened as they leaned into each other more. Surely, Neal could feel it thumping against his chest.

When his arm snaked around her waist, firm and reassuring, the memory of Neal dancing around his room played in Emma's mind. He moved with the same confidence and ease now. The fond thought filled her with warmth. Her nails started to dig into his leather jacket as she gripped his arm harder. Her other hand travelled up his neck, then settled on the back of his head, fingers tugging at his hair.

Their lips broke apart as Emma started to smile. Neal pulled back, letting go of her waist. His fingers trailed along her jaw lightly and then they were gone. He chuckled, breathlessly. Emma released her grip on his hair and arm. She felt a little unsteady on her feet now that she wasn't holding on to him anymore.

Neal ran a hand through his hair. It was even messier than before from Emma's fingers ruffling it. "There's something else I want to show you." He turned and started to walk towards the intersection, the way they had been going before.

It was getting darker. The sky had turned deep pink with only a few swirls of orange. "Everything's probably closed already." Emma called after him. She heard Neal laugh. It echoed down the empty street behind him.

She could follow him or she could turn around and go back home. If she went home, she would be all alone in an empty house, fantasising about running away. That depressing thought propelled her forward, running a little to catch up with Neal. Besides, she was curious to see what he wanted to show her.

They turned onto the main street, walking side by side again. Her stomach still felt fluttery. She was a little too giddy to think of conversation topics, so she was glad when Neal started talking. As they walked down the stretch of restaurants and shops, Neal pointed out places where it was easy to break into, identified different types of locks, and rated how hard they were to pick.

Closed signs hung in most of the windows. The street was deserted. It felt like they were the only two people in the world. Just Emma and Neal, his steady voice filling the silence, his arm brushing against hers as they walked side by side.

Neal was recounting a failed attempt at trying to steal pints of rocky road from the ice cream shop. "I did learn one thing though. You never break in somewhere unless you know the way out." He turned to glance at her, flashing a smile. His eyes looked darker, almost black, in the dusky light.

Emma wasn't sure how long they had been walking, but it had to be longer than it felt because the sky was dark blue and a few stars had appeared.

They stopped walking when they reached a store that was still open. Once inside, they headed straight for the vending machines at the back. The harsh fluorescent lighting and cheesy song that was playing reminded Emma of the school dance. She was glad she had decided not to go.

Neal fished some coins out of his pocket, inserted them into one of the machines, and then hit a few buttons. As soon as the coffee started to drip into the paper cup, the strong aroma wafted over Emma and she could tell it was the watery, almost flavourless kind of coffee, but she didn't mind.

While the second cup started to fill, she saw Neal reach for something on a rack of keychains. His hand hovered under a round blue pendant with a swan engraved on it. He closed his fist around it, slipped it off its hook and into the back pocket of his pants.

Emma turned to look around and make sure no one had seen. Disappointment washed over her when she noticed the cashier had left the cash register and was walking over to them. He looked young, maybe only a couple years older than them.

Although he pretended to be examining the assortment of potato chips, Emma could feel his not-so-discreet gaze on them. Neal's shoulders were tensed. He waited for the coffee to stop dripping and then fitted both of the full paper cups with lids. He turned with a coffee in each hand and an easy smile on his face. "Here you go, darling." He said sweetly, handing one of the cups to Emma.

His arm snaked around her shoulder and he lifted his coffee cup towards the cashier in greeting. Emma felt his body relax against hers when the cashier shrugged and started to walk away. As soon as they were outside on the street again and the door had clanged shut behind them, a stilted sound - something between a sigh of relief and a laugh - broke from Emma's lips.

Neal laughed too. His arm dropped from her shoulder and they started to walk in step with each other again.

It was darker. The sky was black, peppered with lots of twinkling stars. Emma closed both hands around the coffee cup, relishing the warmth, and then took a sip. It seemed like Neal had forgotten whatever he wanted to show her and now they were just strolling aimlessly. Emma didn't mind, so she didn't say anything.

Suddenly, Neal stopped walking. "Here we are." He announced, turning towards the bar fencing that enclosed the area in front of them.

Emma stepped forward until she was almost touching the bars, trying to get a better look at what was beyond the fence. It was too dark, so she turned to Neal for an explanation.

"Hold this." He said, handing her his cup of coffee.

There was a break in the bar fencing, an entrance, but the wire gate was closed and secured with a chain and padlock.

Neal slipped two metallic sticks from his pocket. They kind of looked like sewing needles but when he crouched in front of the gate and inserted one into the lock, Emma realised they were lock picks.

Neal wiggled the pick in the lock, then jammed the other pick into it too and flicked his wrist upwards. The lock popped open. He unhooked it, unravelled the chain, and pushed the gate open.

Impressed, Emma handed Neal his coffee cup and then followed him past the gate. They walked a few paces in the darkness, then Neal stopped and pushed a big lever on the wall. Emma stopped beside him and they stood next to each other, watching as lots of brightly-coloured lights burst to life.

It was the amusement park. They were standing right in front of a carousel with swings suspended on chains. Neal bounded up the stairs to the platform. Emma was right behind him, as excited as if she were a little child again. Neal held the metal bar of a swing up so Emma could get on it. After she sat down and settled back in the seat, he lowered the bar to secure her in. Balancing his coffee cup in one hand, Neal manoeuvred into the seat in front of her.

Emma lifted her feet off the platform, gently rocking back and forth in the swing. "So what's your story, Neal?"

He twisted in his swing until he was facing Emma. "My story?"

"Well, there are a lot of rumours about you, and your family." Emma fiddled with the lid of her coffee cup, unsure if she was being too nosy, but she figured she might as well ask. "Why do you need to steal when your father is the richest man in town?"

Neal chewed his bottom lip, like he was trying to decide if he should answer or not, and then eventually released it. "I don't know what rumours you've heard but here's the truth. My parents got divorced when I was very young. My mother is a drunk who spends most of her time at the bar. My father got remarried to a college girl who is almost the same age as me." His expression was pained, forehead creased together, but he continued. "I haven't talked to him since the wedding."

Everyone in town had varying opinions about Rumplestiltskin marrying a girl half his age. People gossiped about others as if they were characters in a story, not caring about the very real consequences. It was one of the reasons Emma wanted to get away from Storybrooke.

She leaned back, crossing one foot over the other. "Do you not like Belle?" There were other questions she wanted to ask - like whether he missed his father - but it seemed too sensitive.

"She's nice enough, but she was always trying to bond with me." He scrunched his nose, like he had just remembered something unpleasant. "It was too weird having a stepmother who was almost my age." He tilted his chin up, draining the dregs of his coffee. "I don't approve of my father's personal choices or his professional ones. I never wanted any of his money and my mother isn't the most reliable provider, so I do what I have to do to get by." His shoulders were tensed like they were before in the convenience store.

Emma felt a little guilty for bringing the subject up. She wasn't sure which one of Neal's parents was worse. Rumplestiltskin owned most of the property in town but everyone said his business methods were less than scrupulous. Milah was known for overindulging in alcohol, getting into altercations with her deadbeat boyfriends, and causing scenes that became the talk of the town.

Emma couldn't think of anything comforting to say, so she just nodded and sipped her cold coffee.

"How about your parents?" Neal asked. "They seem like good people."

Emma's fingers tightened around the coffee cup. "Yeah, they are." She was going to leave it at that, but Neal was looking at her so intensely, his expression sincere and open. It made her feel like she could say anything without being judged. "They're always so busy with their volunteering and fundraising, it's like they never have time for anything else. They're hardly ever home." She looked down at her cup, surprised by her choice of words. "It's never really felt like home." She said it quietly, almost under her breath. Neal might not have even heard it.

It was quiet for a moment but then he spoke. "It's never felt like home for me either."

Emma wasn't sure if he was talking about his family or Storybrooke or both, but it made her feel better to know she wasn't alone. When she looked up again, Neal was smiling - a small, reticent smile.

Emma returned the smile. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing: how easy it would be to run away and start over somewhere else.

x

As Emma ate her cereal, she flipped through pages of homework. It was a quiet, still night. Her parents were out at a charity gala. They had left money for food, but Emma didn't feel like going all the way to Granny's diner, so she had settled for a bowl of sugary cereal for dinner.

Her astronomy textbook was open in front of her, but Emma wasn't really concentrating. She had read the first sentence over and over, losing focus every time. The memory of Neal in the cafeteria kept drawing her attention away from the solar system or asteroids or whatever the chapter was about. He had only looked at her for a second but it was clear something was wrong. She wasn't sure why they didn't talk at school, why they kept their relationship a secret. It wasn't her idea and it wasn't Neal's idea either. They had both just silently agreed to it. Now Emma started to wonder if she was reading into their relationship too much. Maybe all those nights sneaking into each other's room didn't mean as much to Neal as they did to her.

When she was finished eating the cereal, she lifted the almost-empty bowl up to her mouth and slurped the remaining milk. Then she put the bowl back down, closed her astronomy textbook, and stood up from her desk.

Her body felt stiff from sitting, her mind hazy from overthinking. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and then raised her arms above her head, stretching to ease some of the stiffness.

There was a rap at the window. Two quick knocks, a pause, and then another knock.

Neal.

Emma hurried to the window and opened it to let him in. Neal's boots hit the floor with a soft thud. The hood of his sweatshirt was up over his head but a few tufts of messy brown hair still stuck out form under it. There was a backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, Emma." He gave her a small smile, but it looked strained and faded quickly. "I have something for you." He pulled it out of his pocket and extended his arm so she could see the object on his palm.

When Emma stepped closer, she realised that it was a keychain with a swan engraved on the pendant.

"I took it from the convenience store that night we went to the amusement park together." He gripped the chain, so the pendant dangled in the air. Emma put her hand out and Neal dropped the keychain in her palm. "I guess it's a goodbye present."

Emma's fist closed around the keychain. "Goodbye?" Maybe she hadn't heard him correctly.

Neal nodded. "I have to leave Storybrooke tonight."

Stunned, Emma could only stare at Neal. After a delayed moment, she turned away from him and slumped back onto the bed, overwhelmed. "What? Why?" She unclenched her fist, letting the keychain fall onto her rumpled blanket. "Where are you going?"

Neal avoided her gaze, looking down at the floor. "I don't know but I have to get out of here." He paced around, eventually turning towards the window like he was about to leave. "I had a job at the jewellery store. A few days ago, I took a box of watches. The owner is a total scatterbrain. I didn't think he would notice if a couple watches were missing." Neal had his back to her so she couldn't see his expression but he threw his hands up, clearly exasperated. "August was supposed to sell them and give me half the money but instead he decided to keep all the money, rat me out, and then take off." He swivelled to face Emma and unhooked the backpack from his shoulder. "Turns out those watches were worth way more than I thought." He dropped the backpack on the bed, unzipped it, and produced a glossy, square-shaped box. When he lifted it up for her to see, Emma recognised the name of a really expensive watch brand embossed on the lid. "I could get into serious trouble. I thought my father might be able to help get me out of it but he refused." Neal opened the box and laid it on the bed. The box was separated into rows of compartments with cushions in them. Some had watches fastened around them and some didn't. "Luckily, I didn't give August all the watches. I'll figure out a way to sell them, and the money should be enough to get by for a while, but I have to leave." He sighed and put the lid back on the box. "I just couldn't go without saying goodbye to you."

Emma listened to everything Neal said quietly, never looking away from him, watching all the emotions - the frustrated furrow of his eyebrows, the apprehensive set of his jaw - transform on his face.

When he finished talking, the reality of what he said crashed over her in a wave. Neal was leaving and he wasn't coming back. Emma stood up from the bed. "I'll go with you."

Neal stared at her like he didn't quite understand. Then he shook his head. "Emma." His voice was almost pleading. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I want to go with you." Emma closed the distance between them in one short stride and hooked her arms around Neal's neck, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I love you." The words came out effortlessly. It felt right and easy, but then a moment passed, and anxiety started to bubble in her stomach. Maybe Neal wouldn't say it back. Maybe he didn't feel the same way.

Sensing his unease, she started to pull away, but Neal's arms settled around her waist before she could. He licked his bottom lip and then swallowed. "I love you too." He whispered softly.

Emma exhaled a breath of relief. They kissed for a brief, electric moment, then broke apart almost immediately after their lips met, both smiling, Before Neal could pull away, Emma rested her forehead against his. Neal pushed back, gently leaning into it - a silent communication.

Emma squeezed his shoulders and then stepped back from him. "Then let's run away together." Excitedly, she turned towards her wardrobe and started to rifle through the selection of clothing. It would be easier to pack if she knew where they were going and what kind of clothes would be suitable. Pausing with her hand on a red leather jacket, she turned to look at Neal over her shoulder. "Where are we going to go?"

Neal's forehead creased at the reminder that they still needed a destination. Emma didn't like the hesitation on his face. She worried that he would change his mind, tell her she couldn't go with him.

Neal's gaze flittered around her room and then fixed on the framed map hanging on the wall. He lifted it from the hook and tossed it on the bed. "Close your eyes and point." He said, gesturing to the map. "Whatever spot you pick, that's where we'll go."

Enticed by the idea, Emma padded towards the bed and peered down at the framed map. With her eyes closed, she let her hand drift over the map in swirling arcs and then eventually pressed her finger against the glass covering the map. She opened her eyes, leaned down to read the name of the place she had chosen. "Tallahassee."

She looked back at Neal to see his reaction.

"Tallahassee." He repeated, smiling. "We got a winner."

With fresh determination and a picturesque destination in mind, Emma went back to packing, picking out light layers and beachwear and stuffing them into a tote bag.

By the time she was done, Neal had his backpack slung over his shoulder again, ready to go. Emma hastily scribbled a note for her parents and left it on her desk. She slipped her stockinged feet into boots and shrugged a denim jacket on over her dress. As she crossed the room to Neal, she picked up the swan keychain from the bed and stuffed it into the tote bag that was hoisted on her shoulder.

She clasped Neal's hand, fingers intertwining, and then they were on their way.

It was a warm night, dark except for the glow of streetlights. Hand in hand, Emma and Neal scurried across the street towards his house. There was a yellow car parked beside the pavement in front of his house. Emma had been looking out her window at that very spot for years and she had never seen that car there before. She hadn't asked how they were going to get to Tallahassee. She knew Neal well enough to assume he had a plan.

Just as expected, he released her hand and walked over to the driver's side door. He unlatched it and slid into the driver's seat like he owned the car. As Emma did the same on the passenger's side, she wondered if he did somehow own the car or if he had procured it by other means.

Neal threw his backpack on the back seat. Emma mirrored the action with her tote bag. Sitting in the passenger seat, she looked down at the space below the steering wheel and saw a bunch of different coloured wires tangled together. "You hot-wired this thing?"

Neal let his hood fall back. His hair was messier than usual, sticking up in all directions. "Yeah. I'll teach you how, if you want."

Emma nodded, already looking forward to that lesson. "Tallahassee." She whispered excitedly.

Neal's hand came up to her cheek, pulling her in for a kiss. "Okay. We've got to go." He mumbled, drawing back. As he started to turn towards the steering wheel again, Emma pecked him on the forehead and then settled back in her seat.

Eyebrows drawn together in concentration, Neal fiddled with the wires until the engine sparked to life. "Tallahassee, baby." He said wistfully, glancing at her. Emma nodded. They were both smiling, carefree and delighted, like little kids. Then they pulled out of the parking spot. As their childhood houses became hazy blurs in the distance behind them, Emma was filled with a burst of hope and excitement. Storybrooke was never really home but maybe Tallahassee could be.