This chapter gets a little bit dramatic, but angst isn't really my thing. Hope you're liking this. I'm having a blast writing this one. XO

Emma's brain was officially on autopilot as her body took over, one foot following the other as Henry led them into Regina Mills house. Once or twice her mind screamed out a warning (Stop! She's going to eat you alive, you idiot!), but she found herself in the foyer of the mansion nonetheless.

She scanned her surroundings, in awe at its opulence and sense of style. Every surface was rich and polished, every fabric chosen with precision. It was stunning, and Emma felt completely out of her league in her sweaty running clothes and messy ponytail. And yet, her feet were still propelling her further into the lion's den until Henry came to a stop in front of a door.

"Mom?" he called, rapping his knuckles lightly against it. "Emma Swan is here to see you."

"Come in."

Henry opened the door, and stepped aside so Emma could enter first. Regina was regally seated at a grey table made of the thick, smooth marble toward the back of the large study, which was framed by a floor-to-ceiling window and stunning black and white drapery. She was perfectly dressed in a grey silk shirt and black pencil skirt, and her gorgeous, slender legs were crossed under the desk. She looked up from her paperwork with an impassive expression, almost as if she expected Emma to come running over.

"Well hello, Miss Swan. Lovely to see you again so soon. I see you've met my son, Henry."

"Yes, he's quite the gentleman," Emma said, offering the boy a quick wink.

"I just brewed some iced tea. Henry, would you mind getting some for our guest?"

"That's not necessary, but thank you," Emma said tersely.

"I insist. It looks like you've had a hard run. Must be about 6 miles across town to get here," Regina said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, uh… Wait, you know where I live?"

"Indeed."

She got up from her desk, walked over to Henry, put an arm around him, and whispered something in his ear. He smiled at Emma and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Regina moved to perch against her desk so she was standing in front of Emma and regarded her properly, looking more closely at the distress on the young woman's face. But to Emma's surprise, Regina's own face changed to one of concern, the veneer of disregard washed away.

"Now then, Miss Swan, what can I do for you?"

"Well, first, I wonder if you could call me Emma. I'm kind of a casual girl, you know?"

"No, I don't know. But I'd like to know," Regina said, one side of her mouth tilting up, adorably, Emma thought.

"Ugh! No, you can't be sweet to me! This is frustrating. You seemed so nice last night too, and then once again you slammed me in your review. What gives, lady?"

"You thought that was a slamming? There are about 150 chefs in the New England area who have received far worse treatment who would beg to differ, I'm afraid. I do have an Evil Queen reputation to uphold, after all. But I'm in the business of calling it like I see it. Your food is exceptional, Emma, but it seems to me you're still holding back. I thought that was clear in my words."

Regina's eyes burned into her—not with malice but with emotion—and Emma had to look away. Her eyes fell on the picture frames on Regina's desk. In one, her head was tented with a toddler version of Henry, and they were laughing, nose to nose, with each other. A second photo was a smiling Regina with Monégasque chef Alain Ducasse. Emma immediately recognized from her studies that they were at his famed restaurant, The Dorchester in London. The third photo showed Regina with her arms around someone Emma knew all too well, the ramifications of which made her feel woozy, confused, and sick.

David.

Emma faltered as she grew lightheaded, and she had to grab onto Regina to keep from falling back.

"Emma! Are you all right? Please sit down."

But Emma's brain finally kicked into full gear, and she began to seethe, the full implications of the betrayal clawing painfully at her heart.

"How do you know David?" she spat. And Regina's face was suddenly clouded with understanding.

"Oh, yes, I suppose I buried the lead there. If you'll let me explain—"

"No, I think I've heard enough from you today," Emma said, scurrying out of the room with Regina following closely behind.

"Emma! Please. I think if you'll just let me explain…"

Emma wheeled around on her so suddenly that Regina had to brace herself against Emma to avoid running her over. They were face to face, the blonde's green eyes burning with angry tears.

"You know what? I don't know what kind of game this is, but I have only myself to blame. When you have dirt kicked in your face before your old enough to crawl and the world makes it clear that you're an unwanted piece of garbage, you better learn fast to only trust yourself. But I somehow keep forgetting that. Why don't you put that in your next article?"

Regina gaped at her and could only watch as Emma turned on her heels and sped out the door.

Emma's phone continued to buzz in her pocket. She knew it was David, but there was no way she was talking to him. August texted a few times, wondering if she was ok and if she was coming into Saviors. She also had a few missed calls from Ruby. And there was one from an unknown number, which she presumed was Regina Mills.

Since she had run to Mifflin Street, it took her a long time to get home, but she was grateful for the isolation and the time to process her emotions. What the hell just happened, she kept asking herself. But even if she could come close to answering that, it begged the bigger, more illusive question, What the hell do I do now?

She finally got home around 2 p.m. and took a long, hot shower. She pulled on some sweats, poured herself some wine, and listened to one of David's messages.

"Emma. I don't know what you think you just saw, but I am pretty sure I earned the right for you to listen to an explanation from me. So here's the deal. Regina and I were very good friends—best friends—in culinary school. Something terrible happened to her while we were there, and it pretty much sealed our friendship forever. You know what? Can you just call me? I can't tell this whole story on a voicemail. And I need to know that you're listening. Call me. Bye."

Emma looked down at the phone like it was a dirty bomb, debating about what to do. But it dawned on her that she had no choice but to trust David. And August. And Ruby. Because she really didn't have anyone else in the world who had her back. So she pressed call back on his message and waited for him to answer.

"Emma?"

"Before you get into your whole spiel, can you just answer one question? Why didn't you tell me? When I cried to you over the first two reviews and then practically had a meltdown over the third, why didn't you just say, 'Oh, by the way, Cruella DeVille is my bestie?'"

"I thought about it, believe me. But I'll explain if you'll just hear me out. Emma, you know I love you and I've been like your big brother watching out for you for almost half your life."

"I'm listening," Emma said, her voice softening. She knew he was right. Emma owed him so much, but it was unbearable to think that he had been hiding something like this from her. Or worse, let her walk right into a bear trap.

"Ok, so Regina and I met through a mutual friend, my best friend, actually. A guy named Daniel."

"Yes, you've told me about Daniel. This was your friend who died rather suddenly," Emma said, trying to strain out the concern in her voice.

"Yeah, well that was Regina's boyfriend. She's very private about this, so I'm only going to share the broad strokes, but basically Regina was top of our class, but Daniel was a scholarship kid. Regina's mother called him a street rat."

Emma winced. She herself had been called that same name plenty of times.

"He was such a good guy, and they were in love. But she got pregnant."

"Henry," Emma whispered.

"Yes, and Cora basically made Daniel's life a living hell. She didn't want him to be any part of that baby's life. She threatened him and had him so tied up in knots that he started drinking, the kid barely slept—it was excruciating to watch."

"Anyhow, a few months into the pregnancy, he hadn't slept for like 48 hours, and he left to go to his job at the stables, and he flipped his car over a median and hit a tree. He died almost instantly."

Emma gasped, her heart breaking for Regina's younger self.

"Regina was… I mean, to say devastated doesn't cover it. So I made sure to look out for her and the baby too. We were close. Then a few years later, even though she lost her passion for becoming a chef—I think she saw too many ghosts in the kitchen—her family had given so much to the school, so they put her on the board of the New England Culinary Academy."

Emma felt the blood drain out of her, realization that these two people—David and Regina—had been instrumental in her dreams coming true, was almost too much to take.

"Holy shit."

"So when I got to know you and I saw what you were capable of, Emma, I reached out to her. I told her your story. I collected paperwork for her so she could make a case for you at the school. And she did. I don't want to say any more because I don't want you to feel guilty or indebted to either of us in any way, but let me just say that she looked out for you."

"Why?" Emma asked, incredulous. "Why would this stranger do all this for an orphan, a nobody?"

"Well I think that's a question for her, but I'll just say that a kid with such potential who was cast aside as a street rat is a story she could relate to all too well, and I think it meant so much to her to see you succeed."

Emma sat down on the couch, feeling at once like the tectonic plates of her life had suddenly shifted.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. She didn't want you to know. And she went out of her way in those reviews to try to be objective and to challenge you. She knows your potential, and so do I. Do you forgive me?"

"Yes, David, there's nothing to forgive. It's a little hard to get my brain around it, but I will. I'm just glad I know now. There haven't been a whole lot of chances in my life for me to feel grateful, but you've been responsible for many of them, and apparently Regina Mills has too. It's just hard to believe."

"I know, sunshine. I love you, Emma Swan, and I just want you to be happy, all right?"

"All right, Charming. We'll talk soon."

"Ciao, bella."

Emma had no idea how long she sat there, but it was dark before she finally got up and started rifling through the refrigerator for something to whip up. She spent most nights at the restaurant, so the options were pretty slim. She settled on goat cheese and arugula omelets when the she heard a knock at the front door.

She peered through the key hole, and there was Regina Mills. Emma's heart immediately started that racing thing it did every time the brunette was in her airspace. She opened the door and gave Regina a small smile.

"Hi," Emma said.

"Hello, Emma. Would it be all right if I talked to you for a few minutes? I don't want to intrude, but—"

"Yes, of course. Come inside. Let me take your coat."

Regina shedded her trench coach and handed it to Emma. Under the coat, Regina wore a simple button down white oxford and dark jeans, her hair pulled back in a loose braid. Emma was sure, stripped of her usual stylish, high-priced attire and makeup, she had never seen anything more beautiful.

"I was just about to open a beer. Would you like a glass of wine or something else?"

Regina smiled. "I would love a glass of wine."

"Red?"

"Of course."

Emma pulled a wine glass from the shelf and poured Regina a generous glass.

"It's an aged Chateau Latour Cab. You'll love it."

"I'm sure I will, dear," Regina said, swirling her wine around the glass, inhaling, and taking a generous sip.

"That's incredible."

"I know. One day I'm going to get to Bordeaux. It's on my bucket list."

"Mine too," Regina said.

They stood there in the kitchen of Emma's apartment, looking at each other with mutually warm expressions, letting the air between them thicken.

Then, they both started talking at once.

"Listen, Regina, I just want to—"

"Emma, I'm sorry that I—"

Emma let out a snort and Regina chuckled lowly in her throat.

"Ok, Regina. You go first."