Emma strolled down the block, eyeing the buildings that lined the street. There was the police department, a large gray stone building. Next to it was Mr. Gold's pawn shop. Across the street was the auto mechanic, and a few feet from that, Granny's Bed-N-Breakfast. Emma sighed, shoving her hands in her pockets. The wind played with the ends of her blond hair, tugging it behind her like a cape.

She still couldn't get over the sound of that voice. The way it sounded was almost angelic, with just the right amount of raspiness to it. She could say it almost reminded her of Steven Tyler's voice, the frontman of Aerosmith, but the two just weren't comparable.

Still, she thought, if it was that kid, then he sounded pretty good. The wind blew past, nipping at her nose and cheeks. Pulling her coat tighter, she looked around. No one was on the streets besides herself, save the children playing on the playground across the street at the school, ignoring the pleas of their parents and teachers to "Come inside! It's too cold!" Emma grinned as she watched them, coming to a standstill. Often she'd find Henry sitting on the swings or at the top of the wooden castle with his book of fairy tales. The one Mary Margaret had given him. Emma turned way front eh playground, eyes sat down at her feet.

"Excuse me, Miss," came a voice. The sheriff snapped her head up, finding herself face to face with a teenaged boy.

In fact, the same teenaged boy from the diner. She tilted her head at him, furrowing her eyebrows. The boy, in return, immediately kept his head down, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I-I need to open up shop, Miss…." he said sheepishly, "for…. Mr. Todd." It took Emma a minute to recall the name- where had she heard it before? She nodded her head, realization flooding her memory. He was the new resident currently staying at Granny's hotel.

"Of course," Emma smiled politely, side-stepping around him. He returned the favor, daring to look up at her with big blue eyes- or were they brown? She couldn't tell. Of course, it didn't really matter. Emma watched as he grasped the doorknob of the building- the one she stood in front of, it seemed. The wooden walls looked worn out, pockmarked with scratches and holes. There was a staircase attached to the side that lead to an upstairs apartment, made of the same old wood.

Overall, it looked quite unsafe.

"If you don't mind me asking," Emma piped up suddenly, noticing the small jump the teen made, "what's Mr. Todd's job?"

It took a second for him to answer.

"A barber, Miss."

Emma nodded, watching as he returned to the task at hand, fumbling with a set of keys he had pulled from a pocket somewhere on his pants. There was a whistle in her ears as the wind blew through once more, nearly yanking the boy's scarf from his neck, almost choking him in the process. His hair, which was shaggy and shoulder length, almost, looked like it was going to be yanked from his scalp, strand by strand, until he was bald. His shirt looked incredibly thin, nothing appropriate for this kind of weather.

"Hey, aren't you cold, kid?" she asked, taking a step forward. He watched her with tentative eyes.

"It's Anthony," he corrected her, immediately staring down at his feet. "I'm sorry, Miss." Emma raised an eyebrow at him.

"Anthony," she tried out the name, "got a last name?"

There was another pause before he said softly, "Hope."

Anthony Hope, Emma repeated the name in her head. It sounded pretty, had a nice ring to it. Shrugging, she tried again. A guilty look flashed through his eyes as he looked up at her again. It looked almost laughable, the way he looked at her, like a puppy caught digging under the fence.

"Well, Anthony Hope, why are you apologizing?"

"It's one of the things Mr. Todd said, Miss," his breath was a thick cloud as he head his chest, "not to… correct others while they speak." Emma was taken aback- the kid surely had some manners. It wasn't much she could say for her own son, henry, who just blurted out random questions whenever he felt like it. As she pondered his statement, she could feel the sensation of eyes boring into her, and she realized that Anthony was staring at her profusely, his eyes lit up with…. was it affection? She couldn't tell.

"Is something on my face…?" she asked hesitantly. Anthony chuckled to himself, averting his eyes to look at the playground across the street. He licked his full, pouted lips.

"No, Miss, I do apologize." He lifted the keys, rattling them in his hand, "I should probably open up shop. Mr. Todd dislikes when i dawdle…"

WHAP!

Emma jumped as a rolled up newspaper slapped Anthony in the back of his head, making him double over, thin fingers clutching his hair. The keys fell from his fingers, rattling and clinking as they fell on the cracked pavement.

"I told you to open up shop, boy, not gossip with your girlfriend!" the owner, a pale man with wild black hair scolded harshly. Nodding, Anthony kept his eyes on the keys as he bent to pick them up, gasping as he received a swift kick on the back of his knees from the old man.

"What the hell?!" Emma cried, using to grab Anthony, pull him up. As she neared him, he shrunk away, slowly forcing himself into a sitting position. Now the he was looking up at her, Emma saw the slash of red on his face. Blood…? she thought, then pushed the thought away. Glaring, she placed her hands on her hips. Anthony slowly go tup, and Emma could practically hear his bones creaking, a scream echoing in the dark.

"Young lady if you'd be so kind as to step aside while I deal with this brat here," the man hissed, showing off a set of crooked, faintly yellowed teeth. He tucked the newspaper under his arm, snatching the keys from Anthony before muttering under his breath, "Insolent cad can't even open a door without getting distracted…" Anthony was silent as Emma looked between them.

Then it hit her.

"Mr. Todd?" she said with bewilderment, pursing her lips.

"What's it to you?" he snapped at her. There was a click as he turned the key in the knob, the door swinging open with a loud creak. Almost like a rag doll, Anthony was pushed through the door, all the while looking at Emma with big, apologetic eyes. Se could only watch as Mr. Todd then slammed the door in her face, a soft click muffled through the wood, signaling that their conversation was over and done.

Crossing her arms, she stood at the door for a few minutes, cocking her head as the click of the lock was followed by muffled voices. It's difficult to make out what they're saying… she pondered, cautiously stepping forward, pressing her ear to the door.

The wood was fought against her cheek as she strained to listen.

"You daft, blasted boy!" Mr. Todd was yelling, "I told you to open up shop!"

"Y-yes sir, I know…" Anthony's voice was almost too quiet to be audible.

"We won't have it again, y' hear?" Mr. Todd snarled with his angry British accent. Obviously, Anthony must have agreed because the next minute, Mr. Todd was sounding almost perky, saying, "Good. Now we need to clean up for any customers. Judge Turpin should be by soon- Ms. Lovett prepared the room for me already, so clean up here I guess…"

Emma's breath caught in her throat- who was Judge Turpin? And this Ms. Lovett? Part of the curse, maybe? she thought, pulling herself away from the door. The heels of her boots clicked along the sidewalk cement. Cracks zig-zagged along the edge of the curb.

She still couldn't shake the sound of the boy's voice. It sounded so childish and….

Scared, she realized.

In fact, he was probably terrified of Mr. Todd, seeing his reaction to the man. Emma started walking faster, her legs aching, muscles screaming at her to walk leisurely, slowly. She kept going until she got to the warm yellow building at the end of the street, with its dark brown shingled roof.

Dr. Archie Hopper's therapy clinic was something she thought she might need at the moment. Sighing heavily, she raised a fist to the door, rapping the wood with her knuckles. As she waited at the door, she turned around to gaze at the street, her eyes focusing brazenly on Mr. Todd's barber shop. The exterior looked menacing.

A menacing shop for a menacing man.

A gust of wind played with her hair as she watched the door- was it being opened? She squinted, focusing as best she could.

Indeed, it was. There was the faint tinkle of a bell as the door swung open carefully, and out popped Anthony Hope, inspecting the streets, wary if anyone was there.

"What the heck is that kid doing…?" Emma asked herself, watching as he fully emerged, running across the blacktop decorating with yellow and white lines. Thankfully, no cars decided to drive by, and he half jogged, half hopped to the other side. Emma could see he was carrying some sort of case- a guitar case, in fact, and extremely close to his chest, afraid of losing it. She didn't hear Archie's door open, the man standing in the frame.

"Emma!" he exclaimed, "this is a surprise!" She nodded nonchalantly, watching as Anthony looked around once more before climbing up onto the wooden castle playlet on the playground, where she and Henry sat after school- which she knew he'd be getting out of soon. Where Henry's book is, she realized.

The book of fairy tales Henry owned was buried at the base of the castle, under the wood chips and deep in the dirt. Hopefully Anthony wouldn't find it.

"Emma?" Archie's voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned to face the therapist- Jiminy Cricket, the Conciense back in the Enchanted Forest. In Story Brooke he was anything but a cricket. Here he was a middle-aged man who had balding red hair with glasses and wore pale green sweater vests. Pongo, his Dalmation, barked happily at her arrival.

"Sorry, sorry," Emma apologized, peering quickly over her shoulder at Anthony as he opened the case and pulled out a guitar. Archie stepped aside, ushering her to come inside.

"You look like you need to talk," he suggested. Emma nodded, stealing one last look at Anthony before going in.

She could hear him strumming the instrument, his voice warbling sadly on the wind.