Chapter Six

After school, the following day, Emma ran home in hopes to beat Ingrid home, as she was at work, and get to the phone to call Regina before Ingrid returned.

Of course Michael, one of the older boys, had skipped school in the afternoon and was tying up the line talking to his girlfriend.

"Michael! I need the phone! It's an emergency!" Emma insisted, but Michael just kicked his leg at her from his bed and told her to get out. Emma turned in a huff and slammed the door, knocking a picture frame from the wall with the force and cringing when she heard it break on the hardwood floor below.

"Crap," she muttered to herself and she bent down to pick up the larger pieces of glass before heading off in search of a broom and dustpan. She had the mess cleaned up entirely by the time Ingrid returned home from work, and she braced herself for meeting the woman's rage when she found out. She'd yet to hear Ingrid yell, but she could only assume it was coming.

Instead, Ingrid just smiled and told her it was alright. "It's just a frame, Emma, and I'm sure it was an accident, right? Don't worry about it."

Emma narrowed her eyes in confusion, but wasn't about to protest not getting in trouble.

Still, she never got her hands on the phone that night. Or the night after. Or for the week that followed. Someone was either always on it, or Ingrid was taking her out. Emma didn't mind that, as Ingrid seemed to be taking a special interest in her in a way no other foster mother ever had, but still, she missed talking to Regina. She missed talking to Regina even more now that she had good things to tell her.

Finally, on a Thursday afternoon, nearly a week and a half after she'd last spoken to Regina, Emma took an alternate route on the walk home from school, and happened upon a phone booth. She didn't have any change, so she called collect.

Regina was just coming in the door from work when she heard her phone ringing. She recognized the Minnesota area code right away, but she didn't recognize the number, and her heart sank instantly, assuming that Emma had moved to yet another home.

"Hello?" Regina asked, as she picked up the receiver, and was met with an automated message.

"This is a collect call from….It's Emma!... Please press one to accept the charge…"

Regina pressed one without a second thought, and waited to hear the line connect. "Emma?"

"Hey," came the girl's voice through the other end.

"Emma, what's wrong? Where are you?"

"Payphone," Emma said, with a small laugh. "I can't ever get the phone at Ingrid's house anymore because Michael is always talking to his girlfriend."

Regina closed her eyes in relief and had to chuckle at the sound of pure annoyance in the voice on the other end of the line.

"How unfortunate," Regina said, sitting down on the couch and tucking her feet up under her. "How are things, otherwise?"

Regina opted to leave out the fact that she'd attempted to call on three separate occasions since speaking to Ingrid last time, and had met nothing but dead air on the other end of the line. It wasn't much of a stretch to guess that Ingrid had blocked her number. She had called the phone company to confirm that Emma could still make a call out to a blocked number, and decided there was no real reason to let this girl know what her foster mother had done.

After all, Emma stood a chance at a family with Ingrid, and that was something Regina couldn't possibly offer her, so who was she to throw up an unnecessary obstacle?

Regina listened as Emma told her about her new foster brothers and her new school and finally about her new foster mother.

"You like her?" Regina asked, most interested to know Emma's opinion on this woman.

"She's cool," Emma said, and Regina could hear the smile in her voice. "It's like… I dunno, she's like you, in a way."

"How so?" Regina asked. She'd spoken to this woman only briefly, but she didn't think they would have anything in common.

"She, like, listens to me, and stuff. Like you do. She thinks that things I say matter. Like maybe I matter, you know?"

"Of course you matter, Emma."

"Yeah, I guess, but… no one's ever really made me feel like I do, before you. And now Ingrid. I mean, it's like how I imagined a mom would be… well, not like my actual mom, since she dropped me off on the side of the highway."

Regina frowned, imagining what kind of mother could possibly leave her child on the side of the road. Couldn't she have dropped Emma off at a hospital or even at the police station? Somewhere where she would have been safe?

"I'm so sorry, Emma," was all Regina could think to say.

"It's okay. It made the paper, you know? There was this little boy, too. He was like six or so I think. He found me and carried me from the edge of the woods to this diner in Maine. He said he didn't know who I was, he just found me," Emma recalled.

Regina felt a knot forming in her stomach for a whole different reason. This story was starting to sound alarmingly familiar. It couldn't be…

"When was that Emma? I think I remember hearing about this," Regina said, attempting to keep her voice even.

"1983. October 22nd," Emma stated. "They said they thought I was only a couple hours old, so that's my birthday, I guess."

Regina closed her eyes. Of course. Of course that's who Emma was. She'd woken up in Storybrooke on October 23rd and the story about the little lost baby had been on the front page of the paper. She'd been found by a little boy, Regina remembered that all too well, as well, since one little boy was notably absent from her town: Pinocchio.

She wasn't sure exactly when the savior was supposed to return, or how, but she suddenly realized that Emma's initial phone call must have been anything but random. She had been directed by fate, to dial Regina's number.

And now she knew how to find her.

Could this be how the savior would return? She'd trace the Evil Queen's phone number and use it to track her down, come to Storybrooke, break the curse…

It wasn't fair. Regina had felt so drawn to this girl, inexplicably at first, and now it all made sense.

"Regina?" Emma asked, softly.

"Hmm?"

"You aren't saying anything."

"Sorry," Regina said, quickly, unsure of how long she'd remained silent on the line. "Yes, I do remember that story. I read about it in the paper."

"Yeah, um… maybe I should go," Emma suggested, sounding more than a little defeated.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I don't mean to be distracted," Regina said, quickly. Savior or not, Regina had still grown fond of this girl and she didn't want to hurt her feelings. "I had a stressful day at work, and you caught me just as I came in the door. Sometimes I have a hard time leaving it at the office."

"It's okay," Emma said, clearly buying Regina's hasty cover. "But I really should be getting home. Ingrid will start to worry."

"Yes, of course," Regina agreed.

"I'll call you again," Emma promised.

"Alright."

"Good bye, Regina."

"Good bye, Emma," Regina said, closing her eyes as she hung up the phone, quite sure this would be the last conversation she had with the girl.

It had to be.

She needed to protect her curse.

In the weeks that followed, Regina missed several calls from Emma. Or, at least, she hoped Emma thought she was missing them. More often than not, she was home when the phone rang. She deleted her voicemails without listening to them, quite sure she would break at the sound of Emma's voice.

It was better this way. She needed to protect her curse and her revenge, but, if she were being honest, she needed to protect Emma as well. What would happen if the savior returned to break the curse?

It was better to just end things. Emma would be sad, she was sure, but she still had Ingrid and a new life with better prospects ahead of her. She'd be just fine. Maybe Ingrid would adopt her and maybe Emma would forget all about Regina.

Though Regina wasn't quite so convinced she'd forget about Emma.

As the weeks went on and turned into months, the phone call attempts became less frequent. They dwindled from two or three a week, to once a week, to once every couple of weeks, until they stopped all together.

When Regina had realized that nearly a month had gone by since her last missed call from Emma, she found it bittersweet. She was sure this is what she'd wanted to happen, but at the same time, every time Emma called, it reminded her that someone out there was actually reaching out to her. Someone wanted her. Someone thought she was a good person.

Someone was very, very wrong.

Emma deserved a better friend and confidant than her, anyway, Regina reasoned with herself. No one escaped Regina's life unscathed, and loving her only proved detrimental to anyone who dared try. She wasn't sure Emma loved her, really, but she also wasn't so sure that she didn't love Emma.

In the fifth week that Emma hadn't called, Regina was startled awake in the middle of the night when her phone rang. It was an out of state number, one that she didn't recognize. It certainly wasn't a Minnesota area code, but something deep inside her told her it was Emma.

And something deep inside told she should answer it.

"Hello?" Regina said, tentatively into the phone.

"This is a collect call from….It'sEmmaPleasepickup!... Please press one to accept the charge…"

Regina bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment, before pressing one. Emma sounded truly panicked on the other end, and, curse or not, Regina had told her to call if she were ever in trouble.

"Emma," Regina said, her cracking voice betraying her nerves as she quickly cleared her throat and attempted again. "Emma. What's wrong?"

"You haven't picked up in months," Emma replied, quietly, the hurt quite evident in her voice.

"I'm sorry."

There was a long pause on the other end, and Regina had to wonder if perhaps Emma hadn't expected her to pick up at all. Of course she hadn't. Why would she? Regina really hadn't picked up in months.

She suddenly hated herself for it. Emma had been quite insistent that Regina had been the first person to make her feel like she mattered, and then she'd turned around and done something to show just the opposite.

And she couldn't even tell Emma why. She'd never understand, anyway.

"Emma?" Regina prompted, after a prolonged silence from the other end. She hadn't heard the dial tone yet, so she knew the girl was still on the line, she was just silent.

Regina heard a long sigh, and then: "Something happened."