A miserable drizzle of rain sprinkled down over Storybrooke. It suited Emily's dismal mood.

Ian hadn't taken kindly to her refusing his advances, but even he had his limits and he didn't force himself on her. But she knew that his forgiving mood wouldn't last long, so she'd waited until he'd left to attend Derek's bail hearing and packed what she could and fled.

For the last week, she'd been living in JJ's spare room, afraid that every knock on the door, every car driving by was Ian come to drag her back to his dungeon.

She'd filed for emergency divorce and a restraining order, but Storybrooke's antiquated legal system meant that it would take a couple of weeks to move through the courts. (Even if they were granted, though, who was going to enforce said restraining order?)

She refused to leave the apartment alone – she didn't trust that Ian wouldn't kidnap her in broad daylight...there was no one who could stop him, he'd already proven that. So, in spite of the fact that she hated having to ask for help, today she was accompanied by Clara as they approached the town's lone law office.

It hadn't been Emily's idea to involve the young girl, but JJ insisted that she was trustworthy and wanted to help. And, for whatever reason, Emily couldn't help but feel that the girl was one of the few people she could genuinely trust...even if she wouldn't be of much use in a physical fight should it come down to it.

As they entered the law office, shaking the rain from their coats, Emily dug some money out of her pocket, handing it to Clara. "Why don't you grab us some lunch?" she suggested. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but Emily insisted, "It's the least I can do to thank you."

Once she found herself alone in the waiting room, Emily suddenly felt very exposed and she almost wished Clara had stayed. She didn't have long to dwell, though, before David Rossi poked his head out of his office.

"You must be Emily," he said by way of greeting. He gestured for her to follow him into his office and take a seat.

She nodded. "Yes, we spoke on the phone about..."

"Ah, yes, your divorce," he finished for her. "I've got your file right here." (Apparently 'right here' meant somewhere within a pile of what had to be at least twenty files...)

"Actually, I'm here about..." she started to correct.

"Here it is!" he said triumphantly, brandishing the aforementioned file. Seeing her expression, he asked seriously, "Are you having second thoughts? Many people reconsider when they find out how difficult and arduous the divorce process can be, but believe me..."

"God, no," she interrupted to insist. "But first, I need to talk to you about Derek Morgan."

His expression became grave. "That's right, you're the victim in his case. I'm afraid I really can't discuss our defense strategy with you, for obvious reasons."

"I'm not a victim," she corrected.

"That's a very healthy perspective," he said. "That's the first step to dealing with the trauma you obviously underwent."

"What I meant was, I'm not his victim. I thought JJ explained the situation..."

He nodded gravely. "Well, be that as it may, there's an abundance of evidence against him, not to mention the fact that the arresting officer's statement will carry a great weight in front of a jury."

"You can't believe a word that bastard says!" she snapped, slamming her palms down on the desk. "He is the one who kidnapped me. He is the one who held me prisoner. He is the one who tried to..." She trailed off, shook her head. "That's not important. Ian Doyle is a lying bastard and he's been manipulating the system this whole time to keep me under his thumb!"

Rossi stroked his beard in thought for a few moments, absorbing what she'd just shouted at him. "And you're willing to testify to this?"

"Absolutely."

Seeing the fire blazing in her eyes, he nodded. "Alright, walk me through it," he said, taking a legal pad from his desk.

Thanking Rossi, Emily shook his hand. "There is one more thing," she said, pulling her cheque book from her purse. "I'd like to pay your legal fees on behalf of Derek."

He raised a brow. "That's very generous of you..." he said slowly as if trying to figure out what her angle was.

"He doesn't deserve this," was all the explanation she'd offer. "Of course, if he knew, he'd never accept – he's too proud. So, if you could keep this between us..."

He nodded. "Consider it our little secret."

Emily was deep in thought as she and Clara retraced their steps towards JJ's apartment. There was something about the girl that made maternal instincts swell up inside her in ways she couldn't explain, given that she had never been a parent.

"Where did you say you were born again?" Emily blurted out before she knew she was going to speak.

If Clara was taken aback by the sudden question, she didn't show it. She shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that I was found at the side of the road not far from here. I have no idea why my parents left me on a deserted stretch of highway rather than at a fire station or a hospital or something... I guess I'm lucky I got found at all."

Emily nodded slowly, solemnly. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Don't be," Clara insisted. "I got adopted, so I'm one of the lucky ones."

"I thought you were running away from your parents?"

She pursed her lips in thought. "Technically, I don't think it counts as running away if you're eighteen. And besides, I didn't say they were good parents, just that I'm lucky to have them instead of a series of shitty foster parents." Again, she shrugged. "That sounds bitter, but I'm really not. I'm sure my parents did the best they could..."