February 19, 2012 Continued

"...Pinocchio?" Ada repeated, staring.

August smirked, "I grew out of the hat and overalls. Can I be untied now?"

Ada turned to look at Jefferson, who seemed almost calm at the revelation. Then again, he probably didn't spend a lot of the last 28 years watching Disney cartoons.

"How..." Ada trailed off. She unconsciously drifted her hand towards her bag, where the book rested against her hip. "How are you here? And not cursed? You only just came to town."

August sighed, "I should really explain this to Emma first."

Jefferson gestured with the gun, bringing their attention back to it. "You haven't done a lot of talking to the Princess in the month you've been in town."

August eyed the gun, "What can I say? I'm a coward."

"Is Geppetto-?" Ada cut herself off, shaking her head.

"My father? Yes."

Ada's hand once again came to massage her head as the headache built.

"OK," she sighed, "I am calling Emma. We will all discuss this," she turned to glare at Jefferson, "Preferably without the use of firearms."

Jefferson shrugged in a way that didn't seem to promise anything. Ada pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Emma's gonna kill me," she muttered to herself as she listened to it ring.


Emma hated conversations that began with Ada saying "Promise you won't get violent?" And yet, here she was, driving in the woods in the dark looking for some sort of mansion that Ada gave vague instructions on how to get to. Emma wondered how she could've already spent so much time in the woods of Storybrooke and somehow not come across a freaking mansion, but sure enough, there it was, just as huge as Ada had made it out to be.

At the top of the entrance's steps was Ada, messenger bag still slung on her shoulder, and fiddling with the strap of it.

"So you were a bit vague on the phone other than 'get here now' and 'don't be violent,'" Emma said as she walked up the steps.

"That was on purpose," Ada nodded, "There's...kind of a lot going on. And I'd really like to remind you of the don't be violent request once again."

Emma said nothing, but waited for Ada to lead her to wherever the action was. With a sigh, the redhead opened the front door and walked through.

"This is someone's house? It looks more like a hotel," Emma muttered as she eyed the various rooms they passed.

"It's part of the curse," Ada reminded her, "And this situation is...particularly bad."

"Yeah, about that- what did you mean when you said you found people who knew about the curse?"

Ada pulled on the ends of her hair, biting her lip, "I'm not sure how to explain, really- the guy who lives here, his curse was to remember who he is, and who everyone else is."

Emma's eyebrows flew upwards, "You mean...he's been sitting in this town for twenty eight years just..." she couldn't find the word she wanted.

Ada nodded. They had come to another door, this one shut, "I'm reminding you again," she instructed, "Don't be violent. It's going to look weird."

"Well yeah, with two guys who apparently know."

Ada opened the door slowly, but even so, the first thing Emma noticed was the gun, and before Ada had opened the door fully Emma had her own weapon trained on the man holding a gun.

Ada sighed, "I told you not to get violent," she muttered, "Emma, this is Jefferson. He remembers who he is, and this is his house. Please can we put the guns away?"

"I will when he does," Emma accused.

Jefferson placed the gun on the table by him, "It was mostly to keep him cooperating," he gestured with his head towards the tied up August.

Emma holstered her own gun, but kept herself at the ready. "And why is this man tied up? If we all know about the curse? Is he...a villain? Like the Child Snatcher or something?"

"Not a villain," August answered for himself, "Just not a hero either."

"Emma's here now," Ada said, folding her arms over her chest, "You said you needed to explain to her, so explain, Pinocchio."

"Pinocchio?" Emma repeated, staring at Ada, who shrugged.

"That's who he says he is."

"Please," August grabbed Emma's attention again, "Just listen, and don't be upset with my father for what you hear."

"Marco..." Emma began, but ran out of steam.

"Geppetto," August corrected, "But, yes, his cursed self is called Marco."

"I can't think why we'd be mad at Geppetto," Ada mentioned, grabbing a free chair to seat herself. "But let's hear it."

August's head turned downward, clearly uncomfortable looking at them for this story, "At first, when I learned about Henry's book, I thought I might grab it and put my story in it," he smirked a bit, "I've picked up a lot of odd skills, and bookbinding is one of them. But I thought you could read the story yourself without me having to...but you always kept the book safe, so I wasn't sure what to do. It all started when your parents heard about the curse. I don't remember things perfectly, but I remember one day all the adults started whispering and worrying. I didn't pay much attention, it was pretty scary sounding, and my father told me not to worry, and so did everyone else. But then, one day, we went into the woods for an enchanted tree. I remember, because my father had told me the story of how he had carved me from a similar tree as we walked. The Blue Fairy was with us, and we found the tree and it was...I don't know how to describe it, but you could feel its magic. And...and Father made a deal. He was so scared, and he and Jiminy fought- I remember that, because it was frightening. He was afraid, with the curse, I'd be turned back to wood and, even when it broke, there'd be no way for me to become a real boy again. So he told the Fairy he wouldn't build the wardrobe unless I could go through first.

"And we built it, and I went through. We received word Snow White was having the baby...you, early. The Blue Fairy told my father to not send me through, to forget the deal so Snow White and you could both go through. But he told me to go, and I'd have to stay and protect Snow White's baby until the curse broke. I'd have to help her believe in magic."

"And Emma came through after you, just born," Ada whispered.

August sniffled a little, "I waited by the tree I came through. It was dark and cold and, suddenly, I heard a baby crying and," he looked up, "I reached into the hollow of the tree we had come through and...and I found you, Emma," August's eyes were fixed on Emma's pale face, "You were...so so small, I didn't even have trouble lifting you out. And you were wrapped in your blanket. And I knew...I knew no one else was coming for us. It was just the two of us."

"You were with me?" Emma whispered.

August nodded, his face full of shame, "I was, for a little while. I walked through the woods until I found a highway. I'd never seen cars before; it was so...loud and bright even in the middle of the night. At first I tried telling the truth, but no one believed me, and we were sent to a house, with all these other children, and it was all so strange."

"Did you get adopted?" Emma asked. "I don't remember."

"I was gone before you were even a year old," August whispered, his eyes once again downcast, "I wasn't brave, true, and selfless. I ran away. A group of us all ran, and I left you behind. I knew I should've stayed with you, but...but I was scared."

"One of them could've come with me," Emma murmured.

Ada stared at him. At Pinocchio. He could've stayed with Emma. He could've been with Emma the whole time. Before she really knew what she was doing, she reached out and punched him.

August groaned, and then nodded, "I deserved that."

Feeling horrified, Ada left the room, hands shaking.

"You can untie him," Emma whispered to Jefferson, eyes unfocused, as she also left the room.


Ada sat at the piano bench in the room she had fled to. Aimlessly she plucked at the keys.

"Do you play?" Jefferson asked, startling her as he came up behind her with a tea tray. He placed it on the coffee table and poured two cups, carrying one over to her.

"Do you play?" he repeated, nodding towards the piano as he passed her the cup.

"No," Ada finally answered, "My father did, though. I remember him playing Disney music for me before he died."

"I've been watching, but I can't hear everything, how did you find yourself with Emma?"

Ada sipped the tea as Jefferson got his own cup. She'd never really tried tea, having fallen in love with coffee and rarely deviated aside from occasionally sharing a hot chocolate with Emma (with none of the cinnamon). Whatever it was Jefferson had used was sort of floral and smelled good at least. Ada let it linger on her tongue a bit, and mused on the past.

"I guess it all began when I first saw Emma," she smiled, "She was scared to be friends, but I had a feeling, and I kept at it until she felt safe. Then we started living together. She thought she was an orphan, abandoned by the side of a road by parents who couldn't even be bothered to put her somewhere safe. Honestly, a baby by the side of a highway? Everyone assumed whoever had left her there had tried to kill her. And then when her parents never came forward, it was assumed it was them. My parents died in a car accident when I was only six, so both of us had no family. And then, over time, we became each other's family." Ada laughed, "And then, on Emma's birthday, Henry knocked on our door. He brought us to Storybrooke, and told us about the curse. At first we didn't believe but then..." Ada sobered, "Then we had to believe. It was...so unbelievable. Magic? Curses? I still feel like I'm going crazy most days," Ada shook her head, taking another sip of tea.

"What's crazier than seeing and not believing?" Jefferson leaned on the piano as he looked at her, "I've been to a lot of worlds. Used to make my career out of it. This is the only non-magical world I've ever been in, though, and you know what the issue is with this world? Everyone wants some magical solution for their problem, and everyone refuses to believe in magic."

Ada laughed bitterly, "You're not wrong there. And now magic is coming into this world, and it just seems to make more problems than it solves."

Jefferson nodded, "That's the thing- magic's just like everything else. Electricity, automobiles, all these things your world uses to make up for its lack of magic? They all create as many problems as they solve."

Ada sipped her tea, eying the hatter over the rim "You're very knowledgeable about this world for a man from another one and trapped in a cursed town for twenty eight years."

"I couldn't watch Grace all day," he shrugged, "And everyone did do the same thing every day, until Henry arrived at least. Then, time still wasn't moving but at least he caused ripples. If he went to the park and bumped into someone, then they were later getting somewhere else, and that caused a small change," he shrugged, "So," he waved his hand at the books scattered around, "This house has an extensive library. And a computer. I learned. Nothing else to do when I wasn't trying to make another hat."

"I shouldn't have punched him," Ada confessed.

Jefferson shrugged, "Can't say I don't understand the urge. If I knew someone had done something like that to my daughter," his eyes unfocused and he swallowed hard.

"He was a child himself," Ada shook her head, "In a world no one prepared him for. He was given an expectation too high for any child, and only had an infant who he was told he had to take care of."

Jefferson said nothing, drinking his tea.

Ada sighed, "I just...Emma and I were never going to be in the same foster home- she was found in Boston, so she was a ward of Massachusetts, I was from Pennsylvania," Ada shrugged, "But the idea of being able to be with her, be together through all those hard years. And he gave it up." Ada's brow furrowed, "But Emma and I, we're equals, August, I mean Pinocchio - he was an older brother, I guess. It would've been different." She looked down at her cup. "I owe him an apology, I guess. It's not fair to hold his actions when he was a child against him now as an adult. He's here now, he must be here to help Emma now that it's time."

"I can say," Jefferson added, "Being here, with his father not knowing who he is- that's hard."

Ada looked at him, recognizing that Jefferson would be able to empathize with that easily. She reached out and grasped his hand where it was curled around his cup.

"I need to talk to Emma about trying to make a hat, and I promise I will. This is just...huge."

Jefferson shrugged, his eyes a little manic, and clearly not meaning it when he said "What's another day?"

Ada stood up, "Thank you for the tea," she smiled, "And the talk."

Jefferson nodded, taking her cup and saucer away and carrying them back to the tray.

"Do you know where Emma is?" Ada asked, not sure where in the huge house Emma might have gone to lick her wounds.

"I saw her heading for the conservatory as I untied Pinocchio. He's stayed put," Jefferson added.

"Conservatory?" Ada questioned.

"Down that hall and straight through. Can't miss it."


The conservatory was dark since night had fallen. There were a few lights scattered throughout the room, and between them and the star and moonlight that filtered through the trees, Ada was able to see the wicker furniture, small fountain, and many plants that filled the room. She made her way to the fountain, which Emma sat staring at.

"One of them could've come with me, if Marco hadn't made that deal," Emma tonelessly pronounced as Ada took the chair next to her, pulling the pillow onto her lap and twisting its tassels.

"Yes," Ada replied, "But he was scared that even breaking the curse wouldn't save his son's life. What would you have done?"

"I'm not ready to stop being angry," Emma hissed.

Ada nodded, and fell into silence as the two sisters watched the fountain flow, the water glittering slightly with the ambient light.


Ada stood in the doorway of the room Pinocchio had been tied up in, her arms crossed as she eyed the man who sat, head in his hands, in the room that was growing increasingly dark. She wondered, idly, who had turned off the light that had previously lit up the room with a cozy glow.

"C'mon," she called, causing Pinocchio to look up at her in surprise. She noticed his lip was split with a twinge of guilt. She jerked her head, and, as if he was under a spell, Pinocchio rose and followed her to the kitchen. The tea set Jefferson had used with her was sitting in a drain board now, the man himself nowhere to be found. Perhaps he was watching Grace again. Perhaps that other man who she thought was her father was reading her a bedtime story, and Jefferson couldn't help but draw more blood from his own heart by watching.

Ada wondered if, on that first day of the curse, while Pinocchio was trying to tell a bunch of strange adults that his name was Pinocchio, and the baby he held was a Princess, Jefferson had woken up in this house to find the telescope already aimed at Grace and her false, perfect family.

It seemed likely, considering Regina's style.

She reached into the freezer and found an ice pack. Grabbing a tea towel hanging on the oven door, she wrapped the ice pack and handed it to Pinocchio.

"Do you prefer Pinocchio or August?" she asked.

"I haven't gone by Pinocchio in a long time, I'm not sure I'd answer to it anymore."

Ada nodded, "I'm sorry, August."

He shook his head, "I deserved it."

"No," Ada refuted, "You were a child, in a strange world, and no one had been able to prepare you for it."

"I'm supposed to be selfless, brave, and true," he explained, "That's the condition for me staying a real boy."

Ada gasped, "There are conditions?"

August nodded, "All magic comes with a price," he smirked a little, "Or do you think turning wood into flesh and blood was as easy as snapping your fingers?"

Ada blinked a few times, trying to adjust her expectations, "I guess that makes sense. Still," she brought her attention back, "I shouldn't have punched you for something that was very understandable that you did as a child."

August shrugged, "I've done more things as an adult that deserve a punch."

Ada shook her head, "Yes, but not to Emma, which is all I'm really worried about."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"I- well, I-" August stammered, and then went quiet.

"I like your dad," Ada confessed, then grimaced, "Well, at least his slowly-coming-out-of-the-curse self. Emma's going to be angry for a bit, but I think- you know Henry's hers? She'll understand after she cools down. It's just hard."

"You all should get going," Jefferson announced from the doorway, causing Ada to jump, "She might be watching, and she'll be wondering at least where the Savior is."

Ada nodded, her hand settling on her bag, checking the book was still there. "You're right. Do you have a phone?" she asked, and Jefferson nodded. "Let's check it for bugs, and then we'll know if we can communicate that way or if we'll have to be more creative. Did you know about the Queen's skeleton keys?" Jefferson raised a brow, "Of course you do," Ada sighed. "Well, be careful. Now show me that phone."

"I'll head back to Granny's," August said, tossing the ice pack to the side. Best we don't all show up back in town at the same time anyways. And I'm hungry."

Ada watched him leave, before turning back to Jefferson. "Now, that phone. Emma's better than me, but she's showed me a few pointers."

Jefferson waved her into the hall, "I look forward to the lesson."

"And a warning," Ada stepped out of the kitchen, "Emma's never done a sewing project in her life, so that whole hat thing? Going to be a very slow learning curve."

"I've waited this long."


Emma kept her eyes on the fountain as she stewed in her own anger. Ada had already put a crack in it, pointing out how far Emma would be willing to go to save Henry's life, but Emma wasn't ready to be done with her anger yet. Anger was useful. Emma had no idea how she was supposed to actually break this curse. So far she'd just been doing whatever seemed to piss Regina off most, and setting up whatever Henry declared as someone's happy ending. While that seemed to be working- Mary Margaret was becoming noticeably different, and Regina was certainly angry- it wasn't quite what Emma thought would be "breaking" a curse. No one had their memories back, and though Mary Margaret and David made odd faces and seemed a bit confused whenever a reference was made to their true selves, they still did not know they were Emma's parents.

Emma had fantasized about finding her parents for most of her life, and what she imagined over the years became more and more bleak. If you had asked her last year, she thought maybe someday she'd find her birth mother, who would probably be strung out on some sort of substance, no idea who Emma's birth father was, and bitter that leaving Emma on the side of a highway in late October hadn't been enough to kill her.

When she was younger, she thought perhaps it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe her mother was very young, and someone bad took Emma from her, said she'd be left at an orphanage or something, and instead tossed Emma to the side of the freeway out of bitterness to Emma's birth mother, who was young and naive and in a bad situation.

When she was very small, she'd have daydreams about her family finding her. Someone evil had taken her in the dead of night, and her family had been looking for her all this time, and finally had tracked her down and cried tears of joy just seeing Emma. She'd be whisked away from whatever home she was in, taken back to a house, a castle, a cottage, whatever was her daydream for that day, and she'd live there with her parents for the rest of their lives, and they'd be happy.

Never had Emma thought she'd grow up and find her parents to find they'd been cursed by an Evil Queen. That her own son would be neck deep in the situation. Was Henry in danger? How much danger? Her heart beat faster just considering the questions.

She could understand why Geppetto would bargain so desperately for his son's life.

Her anger held on tenuously, mostly replaced by the fear that had been haunting Emma ever since she'd got the first inkling Henry hadn't gotten his best chance.

God, she was so scared.

"Emma?" Ada called her, and Emma turned to look at her sister. "We need to go. Regina might wonder," Ada stopped there.

"OK." Emma stood and followed her sister out of the mansion. Earlier she had been impressed by it- it was a beautiful house, filled with everything someone could want, enough space for a large family. Knowing now that a man lived here alone, left on the outside looking in of his daughter's life?

Suddenly it seemed hollow and echoing, filled with dark shadows and silence.


Emma walked into the loft, having dropped Ada off at her apartment without speaking.

"Oh, there you are!" Mary Margaret called as she walked into the kitchen, "I wasn't sure when you'd be back. I saved some dinner for you in the microwave," she smiled, and then frowned when she got a good look at Emma's face, "What's wrong? Something with Henry?"

Emma couldn't quite help herself, she reached out and hugged Mary Margaret. The school teacher was still for a heartbeat, and then wrapped her arms around Emma in return, leaning her head against Emma's.

"Oh, Emma," she sighed. Emma nearly cried.

Awkwardly, Emma pulled back, and blinked back some tears that had threatened, "Sorry, I just...I had a day. I'm fine, and Henry's fine. It was just-"

"A day," Mary Margaret nodded in understanding, "Well, eat some dinner and then we can have some hot chocolate," she smiled.

Emma looked at her mother, and wondered what sort of strength it took to send her child into an unknown world alone and know it was not just her baby's best, but only chance. Emma had given up Henry for his best chance, but she had done it under the knowledge (false though it was) he'd be adopted by a family who had been through a whole process to prove they'd be good to him, that he'd still be in the same world as her, that he'd be with someone who wanted him desperately, maybe with a yard and a dog and a white picket fence. She'd known there were other options, just one of which was Henry being in the system while she finished her jail sentence and went through the process of proving she'd be fit caretaker for her baby. That Emma couldn't guarantee she'd ever accomplish that process was enough for her to discount it as a choice at the time.

Snow White had sent her child into a world she had never seen and knew next to nothing about because otherwise Emma would have died before her first day of life was out.

Emma couldn't wait to actually meet her mother. For now though, she smiled at the cursed woman and went to get her dinner while Mary Margaret returned to prepping her school materials.


Regina examined the hearts in her vault.

Too much was happening. Her control over Storybrooke was slipping, just as her control over Henry was. Something needed to be done. Rumpelstiltskin had his memories back, and he seemed to be actively working with Miss Ward. Probably pulling the strings to slowly and surely undo all Regina's hard work.

Miss Swan and Miss Ward had to go. Not the least because they were bringing the outside world into Storybrooke. Earlier today Regina had received a collection of paperwork that boiled down to formal notice that Emma Swan was challenging Regina's rights to Henry. Instructions on how to send a response were included, and Regina had 20 days to respond.

Before he had his memories, Regina would have gone to Gold and had him crush such opposition like the irritating gnat it would have been. Now, now things were much more difficult. What should have been a gnat, easily squashed, was now a crow, pecking at her windows and following her throughout her day, cawing obnoxiously. Gold was no longer one of her puppets, but instead her old teacher, a fully capable player on the board Regina had ruled over uncontested for twenty eight years.

She had his Beauty locked away, and had used that chipped cup to lure him into admitting he had his memories. Perhaps she could use her somehow? But 'Stiltskin thought her dead currently, and it'd be a shame to give him hope with her life.

She stared at her hearts. When the curse first enacted she had been tickled to learn her address- 108 Mifflin. One hundred and eight- the number of hearts in her vault. Of course, now it was one hundred and seven.

She hadn't brought many of her Heartless with her to Storybrooke. They weren't of any significance, really, just men from villages who she selected as useful soldiers for the most part. She'd take any choice specimens while the rest of the village was slaughtered on her orders. It was harder and harder to get willing fighters as Snow White gained more and more power.

Besides, her Heartless were already under her control, so there was no delight in seeing them cursed, at least, not as much as seeing all those insipid royals who worked so happily with Snow White and had their True Loves, not to mention all the peasants who had helped Snow White claw her kingdom back from Regina during that awful revolution. Regina had the blood of royalty in her veins, and had put up with being married off to her King in order to ascend the throne. She had taken it right out from under Snow White, who was too much a bleeding heart like her father to reign properly. And yet, everyone seemed to want her in power.

Well, Regina was in power here, and she'd keep it. And she'd keep her son.

But what string to pull?

It'd be so much easier if she could still take hearts. Each and every citizen was easy pickings with no memories of why they should not let Regina get too close. But having no magic other than what she'd brought with her was limiting, so Regina would have to work with what she had.

She briefly considered the heart of that little goose boy who had stymied her attempts to gain control over King Adhelm's kingdom. Regina had hoped that by simply being the woman holding the strings and letting everyone think that Aldric and Minna were ruling she'd be able to gain some real traction with her own power. After all, one needed allies, and if no one would ally with Regina willingly, well, she'd get them one way or another.

She'd been planning on leaving Erwin be until Henry was in the same grade as him, then she'd make them friends. She'd wished the stupid boy had been younger when she'd enacted her curse, then perhaps he'd have been a tool to distract Henry from learning about her curse for some time.

Maybe she should have gotten Henry a sibling all those years ago when he first, innocently asked her why only he grew up. She'd thought about it, but the thought of going through all the diapers and colds and potty training and all the other baby and toddler phases again seemed exhausting when she'd just gotten Henry out of them. Now she thought fondly on those times- Henry's total dependence on her, his unquestioning belief in her. Perhaps those few times she'd had the Huntsman babysit Henry were what did it. Perhaps leaving him in another's care, even if that other was under her total control, made Henry realize he wanted other people in his life. Maybe it was because he had no father-figure.

Perhaps a girl, someday, when Henry was older and over this silly rebellious phase.

Regina closed the drawer that contained Erwin's heart. No, a young preteen wouldn't do anything for her situation. At the time she'd taken his heart, he'd been so useful. Poor Princess Minna and Prince Aldric had been so desperate to save their adoptive son. Making Erwin spit vicious accusations at his adoptive parents had given her some entertainment when other pastimes paled.

Regina looked at the heart of one of her soldiers who she hadn't brought with her. Briefly, she wondered what had happened to the Enchanted Forest after her curse took hold, then she kept walking. Row after row of hearts, and none of them useful when she wants them to be.

'Stiltskin must want something with his little power play. But how long had he had his memories? From the beginning? Perhaps. It was originally his curse after all, she hadn't examined the magic as carefully as her old teacher taught her to. Of course, he probably counted on that and put all sorts of contingencies in place in case his student turned on him and included him in her curse. But why now? After all this time? Was he sensing weakness in her with Henry rebelling? Or was it just the arrival of the Savior putting things in motion? Had he known Henry was the biological son of the Savior this whole time?

Perhaps. It was all guess work. Either way, the problem remained. Now what to do about it?


So I was gearing up to use the heart that Regina plants to implicate Mary Margaret in "Red-Handed" in this chapter, but then I started researching it because I couldn't remember whose heart it was and I have found nothing to tell me we EVER found out whose heart that was. There's lots of theories and later Sidney claims he got it from the hospital during his false confession (but really- everything else was false so why would that be true?). Someone online suggested it might be the Flynn father's heart, preserved for 28 years (who sees Regina just dissecting that man and going "this might be handy later," with his heart? Cuz, I don't see it) BUT WHOSE HEART IS IT?

Also, we never really see any resolution on the 107 other hearts Regina keeps in her vault. We see Graham's crushed and we know that Regina even in the land without magic can control people through their hearts, so why doesn't she use it with more people when Emma's giving her such issues? I have a theory that most of those hearts are not from Storybrooke residents for the reasons I explore above. But who might she have still cursed even with their hearts in her control? Aside from Graham we never get any answers (or see Regina return any of the hearts in her vault). Presumably if the owner of the heart is killed (which I'm going with as a rule- you can kill people without their hearts- there's beheading, and five hundred other ways to die without touching your heart so I say that just makes sense, plus Cora made a zombie army using people's hearts AFTER they were killed so...it makes sense to me and I stand by it) you wouldn't be able to even tell judging by the hearts (and Regina has no clue what happened to the Enchanted Forest after her curse, just theorizes it could be a wasteland). So one of those could be used maybe? But the glowy part? How to disguise the glow?

So please, give me your theories on the heart from Red-Handed. Whose do you think it was? Where do you think it came from?