"We need to start decorating for Halloween," Emma said, walking into the kitchen.

"We do?" Regina asked. "Don't we have until the 31st?"

"But that's no fun," Emma said. "You have to decorate early. Plus you have so much house space that we could make a huge haunted house."

"That is a direct no," Regina said. "We are not going to scare young children."

Emma sighed. "You're no fun."

Regina shrugged. "I scared people long enough. I'd rather just do something completely basic."

"Do you have decorations?" Emma asked. "I feel like you don't because you never want to decorate."

"I have decorations," Regina said. "They're just probably very buried in the attic."

"You have an attic?" Emma asked. "Since when?"

Regina laughed. "You've been living here how long?"

Emma smiled. "3 years. But that's not important. This house is way bigger than it looks on the outside. It's deceiving."

"Sure it is," Regina said. "I'll go up there and look. I'm sure that they're around here somewhere."

Regina coughed as dust flew up in her face. "This is probably the one room I have never cleaned."

She pushed aside cobwebs, trying her best to look through the flying dust for Halloween decorations. She and Henry had used to celebrate this day, but he had decided that he was too old for it shortly before Emma had arrived in town.

Regina thought that she saw a mummy, so she headed in that direction, tripping over a box in the process. Looking over her shoulder, Regina looked in confusion at the postcards all over the floor. Where had those come from?

"Are you okay?" Emma called. "I heard a really loud thud."

"I'm fine," Regina called back. "But could you come up here?"

"I thought you said that you were fine?" Emma asked, climbing up the ladder.

"I am," Regina said. "I just found a box, but I don't know what it is. Which means that it's probably yours."

"You put some of my boxes up here?" Emma asked, joining Regina. She froze when she saw the box. "Oh. That box."

"So this is yours?" Regina asked. "I was beginning to worry that I had gotten a bunch of postcards without going anywhere."

"Maybe you did," Emma said.

"Don't even try that," Regina said, standing up and brushing herself off. "How do you have so many postcards? Are they ones that people sent to you?"

Emma laughed bitterly. "I didn't have a secure address. No one could send anything to me."

"So then where are these from?" Regina asked. "Some of them look like towns that I've never even heard of before."

"Maybe you should get out of town more often," Emma teased. "There's lots of postcards out there. Or you could make Storybrooke ones."

"Like you need another one," Regina said, looking at the pile on the floor. "So back to my previous question that you keep avoiding. Where are all of these from?"

Emma sighed. "Every postcard is from a place that I've stolen something from. It was either something little like a toothbrush, or something big like a car. I always took a postcard."

"Why?" Regina asked.

"So I would always have a reminder of all the places that I've been," Emma said. "You can never tell me that I haven't traveled a lot of places."

"True that," Regina said. "But why would you want a reminder of all of the things that you've stolen?"

"They're like trophies," Emma said. "And a reminder."

"A reminder?" Regina asked.

Emma nodded. "They're a reminder of the life that I used to live, and how much stronger that I am because of it. I don't regret anything, or the places that I stole from. It made me stronger."

Regina smiled. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Emma laughed. "The Savior who used to be a criminal is amazing? That seems a little off."

"Not at all," Regina said, kissing her gently. "You're amazing."

"Your opinion is also extremely biased," Emma said, chuckling.

Regina smiled. "Details."