This is ridiculous.
She thought being cursed might've rendered the part of her dad's personality that controlled parental authority obsolete. No such luck.
"But Dad…"
He arched his brow at her.
"Killian," she amended her whine, "what about the mission?"
How was she supposed to accomplish anything from the inside of a classroom, chock full of oblivious second graders?
"You're going to school, Elizabeth, and I'll not hear another word on the subject."
The door creaked on its hinges, announcing the late arrival of the new substitute teacher, but Beth didn't look up until he spoke.
"Morning, class—I apologize for my tardiness." He wore a brown blazer with elbow patches, and carried a book bag in his hand. His hair was slicked back, his face clean-shaven. Beth didn't think she'd ever seen him looking so professional—or so much like a nerd—in her life. "My name is Mr. Mills, and I'll be taking over for Miss Blanchard for the remainder of the school year."
Before she could stop herself, Beth raised her hand.
"Yes—" Henry looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Collecting himself, he consulted the seating chart left for him on Miss Blanchard's desk. "Jones, Elizabeth."
At least she'd been left her real name, in part.
"What happened to Gran—Miss Blanchard?"
"I wasn't informed of the circumstances surrounding her leave."
"Is she coming back?"
"No, I'm afraid she's not." Henry adjusted the tie Beth hadn't noticed during her initial inspection. Gods, he was like a grownup.
"Do you know where she is?"
"I'm sure the office has her information, if you wanted to send a card or letter or—"
"I don't want to send a letter—I want to see her."
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but that just isn't a feasible option at the moment."
Beth sank low in her seat and crossed her arms, one thousand percent done with this entire curse.
—
To her mounting surprise, Henry was competent—not that she'd doubted his ability for a second. Okay, maybe just one. But he worked through the lesson plan with ease, and was rather adept at corralling kids, no matter how unruly. Beth caught herself fighting a smile on several occasions. She was just grateful she'd remembered to call him Mr. Mills—mostly.
"Henry, he stole my paper."
He looked up from the pages on Grandma Snow's desk—his desk now, she supposed—taken aback. Beth cursed internally, and regretted even that much. She couldn't, in good conscience, accept payment from her loved ones for swearing if she, herself, was not also held accountable. But it wasn't like they'd ever know…
Elizabeth.
If only her dad would get out of her head. Wasn't it bad enough he couldn't remember his own daughter but could still read her mind?
"Mr. Mills, please, Elizabeth. And August, I'd appreciate it if you kept your attention on your own assignment."
The boy called August—
Wait a minute.
Red hair, freckles, clothes that looked as though he should be selling Toaster Strudel—
But he was almost Henry's age. Wasn't he?
She hoped her dad was making progress on Operation Second Breakfast—they needed to break this wretched curse before things got any weirder. What next? Was she to discover that Uncle Robin had morphed into a cartoon fox, or that Uncle Will had returned to Wonderland without his heart? How old was Roland if August had reverted to the same age as Beth? She hadn't the slightest clue where Uncle Neal was in all of this, or Grandma Snow. Grandpa David was back to working at the animal shelter.
Beth had nearly tackled him to the ground when seeing him yesterday. He was locking up for the night, and took the time to greet them with a kind smile. He'd wished them a good evening and walked away. Beth had stared after him, unable to stop herself. Unable to pretend she wasn't coming undone with every person who regarded her as a stranger—
"Is something wrong, Elizabeth?"
Henry stood over her, staring at her like she was a crazy person. And maybe she was.
She nodded, forcing a sane smile.
He lowered himself into a crouched position, balancing himself with his hands on her desk. Speaking in a soft tone, he said, "Come see me after class, okay?"
—
She tried to get lost amidst the crowd of people moving like a giant swarm toward the door. But Henry wasn't fooled.
"Elizabeth?"
She approached his desk, grumbling to herself as she went. "Beth." She said once arrived.
"I'm sorry?"
"My dad only calls me Elizabeth when I'm in trouble."
Henry smiled, waiting for the coast to clear before continuing, "I just wanted to check in with you—you seem to be having a difficult time. Do you remember coming by my apartment yesterday? Something about...being my sister?"
Beth hid her gaze amidst the stacks of papers on his desk. "Maybe."
"Do you want to tell me why you did that?"
Seeing his kind face, wearing the same expression to which he was prone when succeeding in convincing her to get ready in the morning where all others failed—patient yet unyielding—she ached from missing him. He was sitting across from her and somehow he was lifetimes removed.
She went back and forth in her mind about whether or not it was a good idea to clue him in. He was the Truest Believer, after all—that wasn't the sort of thing that disappeared with age. Like her mom being the Savior—sort of a birthright, Beth had always thought.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to rip off the Band-Aid. "You are my brother, you just don't remember. We have the same mom but different dads, but you never treated me like I was anything less than a full sister." She could see she was losing him already, but once she started, the flood of information couldn't be contained. "Mom gave you away when you were born because your dad abandoned her in jail, and you were adopted by Regina, who raised you until you were ten, when you left Storybrooke to find Emma, and you guys broke the first curse with True Love's Kiss after you ate a poisoned apple that was meant for her. And then Mom and Grandma Snow fell through a portal to the Enchanted Forest, where she met my dad, and they climbed a beanstalk and bested a giant, and—"
Henry held up his hand to stop her, shaking his head. "Hold on—"
"I know it's a lot to take in, but it's true. If you can remember Mom and she can remember you, then the town can be saved, and things can go back to normal—"
"Beth…"
Her heart sank at his tone. "You think I'm crazy."
"I don't—"
"Yes, you do—and you should understand how that feels more than anyone."
A knock at the door called their attention.
At the threshold stood a woman about Henry's age, if Beth had to guess, with blond hair and a welcoming smile. "Hi," she said, "I'm looking for Elizabeth Jones."
"Who are you?"
"My name's Grace." She crossed into the classroom. "Are you Beth? Your dad sent me to pick you up."
"Why?"
"Work ran a little late—he asked me to watch you."
Work?
Beth eyed the woman from head to toe. "Can I see some credentials?"
Henry laughed before getting to his feet and introducing himself to the person presently trying to snatch her. "Henry Mills," he extended his hand, which Grace accepted, "Beth's teacher."
"It's nice to meet you." Turning to Beth, she said, "I could give him a call, if you'd like."
"He doesn't have a—" Her statement never reached completion, as Grace retrieved a cell phone from her purse, dialed, and held it out to Beth.
"Sheriff Swan." Came a voice over the line.
"Mom?" Beth took the phone in hand. "I mean, Emma. It's Beth. Jones—you helped me find my dad."
"Hey, kid. Everything okay?"
She heard a faint noise that sounded like rushing water. "Is my dad with you?"
"Yeah he's right here."
A moment later, there was a whispered, "Bloody hell," followed by, "Hello?"
"Dad?"
Beth sensed his want to correct her, and his realization that they had an audience. "Aye. What is it, Love?"
"What are you doing with Emma?"
"Er…it's rather a long story."
"Did you send some strange woman to pick me up from school?"
The rushing water grew louder, nearly drowning out her father's voice. "Ah, yes. The nanny."
Beth gasped. "I don't need a nanny."
"You're seven."
She glared at Grace, waiting complacently for the call to end. "Where did you even find this person?"
"I assure you, she came with the highest commendations."
"From who?"
"Killian!" Her mom shouted in the distance.
"I've got to go, Love."
"Dad—"
The line went dead. Beth stared at the screen for a long moment before handing it back; the wallpaper was a white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and top hat, which made her wonder if this Grace person had some connection to Wonderland.
"What did he say?"
Beth grabbed her backpack and stomped into the hallway without a word, but not before observing the less than subtle glances between Henry and the woman her dad had hired. If her brother could refrain from flirting with every female in town, it would go a long way toward preserving her sanity. At least she could be certain of one thing: her gag reflex was in full working order.
—
She couldn't believe it. She'd been pawned off. While her dad was doing gods know what with her mom. Correction: Captain Hook was doing gods know what with Emma Swan. They weren't their true selves, or…present selves, or…
Beth didn't know what they were, but they weren't the Killian and Emma Jones who'd loved her.
This must've been what her dad felt during the year he was stuck in the Enchanted Forest and her mom was in New York with Henry, cozying up to a flying minion of the Wicked Witch.
I won't last a year.
"So, Beth, what do you like to do for fun?"
Beth tried her hardest not to roll her eyes, or to deliver a response dripping with sarcasm. But she couldn't exactly answer with the truth—that she adored magic above most things. That she looked forward to lessons with Regina the way most kids looked forward to Christmas.
Second favorite would have to suffice. "I like riding horses."
And swordplay. And falconry. And listening to stories about my mom, the Savior. And my grandparents, Snow White and Prince Charming. And my dad, Captain Hook.
What sort of world didn't believe in fairytales?
"Horseback riding." Grace smiled. "It seems we have something in common."
Wonderful.
"We'll have to add that to the list."
"List?"
"Of things to do after school, or on weekends—whenever you need someone to hang out with."
You mean whenever my dad wants to get rid of me.
"I know we just met, and this is all new to you, but I'm hoping we can be friends."
And I'm hoping to make it through this conversation without owing myself a fortune.
Beth put on her best smile and prepared to lie through her teeth. "I'd like that," was on the tip of her tongue when they came upon the library, and revelation struck like lightning.
She pressed her face to the glass. "Can we stop in here?"