Author's Note – for the purposes of this story, everything leading up to the election results should be considered canon. Also, everything we've seen happen in the Enchanted Forest should also be considered canon. As for events in Storybrooke subsequent to the election, well, some things happened and some things didn't.
Chapter 5
"That was really impressive, kid," Emma said brightly. "Why didn't you tell me you could play that well?"
Henry shrugged, but he had just played something on the piano that was a lot better than anything SHE could do. Even on Guitar Hero.
"Henry is a gifted student," the man on the piano bench next to him said, adjusting his glasses. "He's learned more in two years than some of my other students have in four. Granted, he still has a long way to go if he wants to consider playing professionally some day, but – "
"Of course he's good," Regina interrupted. "My son is extremely talented."
Emma glanced at her.
"Our son," Regina muttered.
Henry's teacher looked confused.
"Thank you again, Mr. Linus," she added. "Until Tuesday?"
"Yes, of course," he said, showing himself out.
Emma felt uncomfortable. She was proud of Henry, and justifiably so, but she could tell from the look on his face that he didn't ENJOY playing piano. And Regina either didn't notice or didn't care. But the state wasn't taking people's kids because they made them take piano lessons, either.
(She knew all the reasons the state moved in. She'd heard them all.)
Still, she poked the tiger anyway.
"Henry, do you actually LIKE playing piano?" she asked.
"No."
"Henry," Regina said, looking startled. "You've never said you don't – "
"I've told you over and over again!"
"You say you hate practicing piano, but I thought you enjoyed playing – "
"How many times have you heard me play the piano for fun?"
Uncomfortable? Emma was practically squirming now.
"I wanted to try out for soccer," Henry added, "but she wouldn't let me."
"What? You've never expressed an interest in sports! You don't even watch sports on television! You've certainly never wanted to try out for it," Regina replied.
"She's lying," Henry said, shooting Emma a glance.
"I am not!" Regina insisted.
For an instant, Emma thought Henry had been right about time being frozen all along. Because the next few seconds seemed to grow impossibly long. She took in Henry's body language and the look of pure shock and dismay on Regina's face, and knew with certainty that he wasn't telling the truth.
And she could lie too. She could take his side. Christ, every instinct she owned was telling her to defend Henry and get in Regina's face like usual.
"Henry," Emma said softly, "are you sure you're remembering that correctly?"
Whatever he read in her face, it deflated him. And it killed her to put that slump in his shoulders, but she couldn't stoop to such hypocrisy, not after what she told Henry after the sheriff's debate. "Maybe not," he admitted.
Emma nodded. "Why don't you run upstairs? I'll be there in a minute."
Henry got off the piano bench and shuffled upstairs.
She sighed. Damage control time.
Regina sat heavily in a nearby chair. Too heavily, almost as if her legs had given way beneath her. Which, come to think of it, they might have. "Regina?"
"He hates me," Regina said.
Well, yeah, you hadn't noticed? Wisely, however, Emma didn't say that out loud.
"I thought, I don't know, it was just a part of growing up. Or that he just liked you better," she continued. "I certainly didn't think he hated me enough to lie, just to make me look like a bad mother."
Emma thought Regina looked dazed. She was probably in shock, because Emma couldn't fathom her saying such things to HER. "Look, uh, just wait here for a minute," she told Regina. "I'll go talk to the kid, see what the problem is. I mean, I'm sure it's fixable."
Regina didn't even answer her. She appeared to have found a spot on the wall that looked really interesting.
The walk up the stairs seemed to take extra long. She'd never been in this position with Henry before. She'd never been, well, the disciplinarian. Regina seemed to take to that role so easily. But she needed to understand where Henry was coming from. Children didn't hate their mothers THIS much for no reason. Children weren't so ready to believe their mothers were evil queens and witches and monsters. She'd been with them for over three days, and so far Emma had seen nothing that came close to explaining it.
Emma knocked on his bedroom door. "Henry?"
"Yeah?" He sounded listless.
She came in and found him sitting on his bed, staring at his hands. "Henry," she sighed. "What happened back there?"
"You were supposed to protect me," he said. "And you didn't."
"You lied, Henry. And you wanted me to go along with it."
"So? She deserves it."
"Henry, you JUST told me last week that there are certain things the good guys don't do," Emma reminded him as she sat next to him. "You said you were proud of me when I told the truth at the debate. Well, how was that different from what happened downstairs?"
Henry looked at her. "Because it was me," he said quietly.
Oy. "Henry, you've got to be straight with me," Emma told him. "Why do you hate Regina so much? She's got her faults, sure. She's too strict and she doesn't listen to you enough. But when I was your age, I would have killed to have a family adopt me and give me the life you have. What aren't you telling me? I know she hasn't abused you."
"She's . . . " Henry sighed. "She's not my real mom. She never told me. I had to find out myself."
Emma nodded. He'd never said how he found out. And considering Regina didn't strike her as the kind of person who would tell her child that, this made sense. "How did you find out?"
"About a year ago," he told her softly, "I came to the mayor's office at City Hall after school, and she was having an argument with Mr. Gold. Something about all he'd done for her. And I realized they were talking about me."
His words chilled her. It seemed like every time she opened a door into the past in Storybrooke, Mr. Gold was lurking on the other side. Worse was the realization that Gold had "arranged" Henry's adoption, probably the same way he'd "arranged" for Ashley to give him her baby. Which meant the adoption probably wasn't entirely legal.
And that was why Regina was so paranoid. She was probably terrified that Emma would find out the circumstances of Henry's adoption. And if the adoption wasn't legal, then Regina had no right to Henry, and custody would revert back to . . . her.
Holy crap.
"So that Saturday," Henry was still saying, "I searched her study, and I found the adoption certificate in the back of one of her drawers. That was when I knew. She wasn't my real mother. She was a fake. My real mom was somewhere else." He glanced up at her. "I knew I needed to find you."
"Uh-huh," Emma said, unable to be more articulate because she was still reeling from her discovery.
"I knew Regina wouldn't tell me anything, so I had no choice. I went to the pawnshop and asked Mr. Gold who my mother was."
Emma stared at him, aghast. "You didn't make some kind of deal with him, did you?"
Henry shook his head. "He just gave me your information. He said something about my mother cheating him on an agreement, and helping me was just evening the score."
"Out of curiosity," Emma asked, an unwelcome new thought popping into her head, "did you start thinking Regina was the Evil Queen before or after you found out you were adopted?"
"After," he admitted. "Ms. Blanchard gave me the book a couple months later."
That was what she'd been afraid of. Not only had Gold procured Henry for Regina ten years ago, but also he had revealed the secret during an argument that had conveniently been at the right time and place for Henry to overhear it. AND he sold Mary the Book. Had he suspected Mary would give it to Henry? Maybe even planted the seed without her knowing it? It wouldn't surprise her.
Taken as a whole, it suggested that Gold had a very unhealthy fixation on Regina's relationship with Henry, almost like he wanted them to grow apart. But why?
Maybe he was hoping Henry would find you and bring you back.
No. It was unlikely, and WAY too disturbing to even consider. Regina was probably the only person in Storybrooke with enough power to break a contract with Gold and get away with it. He was probably trying to hurt Regina without her knowing it. If that were the case, he'd succeeded all too well.
"I guess I'm in trouble?" Henry asked.
Emma sighed. "It's not for me to say. If you promise me that you'll never try lying to me again, then you and me, we're good."
"I promise," he said quickly.
"Good. Why don't you just stay here and let me see if Regina is willing to let you off with an apology."
Henry looked a little mutinous at the suggestion of telling Regina he was sorry, but Emma shot him a look and the hint of rebellion disappeared.
Emma got up. "Just . . . try to sound sincere, okay?"
"Are you okay? You look a little nauseous."
"I'm fine," Regina said, trying to sound cool and dispassionate in order to hide the raging turmoil within.
A minute ago she'd been upstairs, listening. Whatever Emma might learn from her son, Regina wanted to know every word. She couldn't trust Emma not to hold some of it back, either for her own advantage or out of some misguided sense of pity.
What she'd heard had by turns alarmed and infuriated her. That gap-toothed, double-dealing IMP! Regina had never understood how Henry learned the truth about his adoption, and naturally he'd refused to share. To think that Gold had destroyed her relationship with her son with just two strokes – the little SHIT!
Much more worrisome was the fact that, assuming she had two brain cells to rub together, Emma had probably connected the dots and realized that Gold had been the "procurer" of a baby for Regina to adopt. Emma already knew that he bought and sold unwanted children in transactions of dubious legality. A half-decent attorney could take the facts in Emma's possession and easily persuade a judge that the adoption was invalid.
Regina had believed that, with time, she could win Henry back. Now, in the space of ten minutes, she felt like they were miles apart, with him moving farther still at increasing speeds. All Emma had to do was cut the last cord tying them together, the adoption papers that said he was her son, and it would be over. It was only a matter of time.
Unless, unless . . . unless Emma didn't.
Emma had sworn up and down for weeks that she had no plans to retake custody from Regina. And naturally Regina had not believed her. She still didn't. Not unless what Emma had done a few minutes ago had meant something.
Henry's lie had stunned her. Emma believing her had taken her legs out from under her. It was so completely unexpected. Emma had every incentive to take Henry's side, no reason to take hers. True, the moment held no true significance, it wasn't like they had some kind of wager. But symbolically, it had been an enormous shock. Enormous enough that for the first time, Regina was willing to entertain the notion of believing her.
Especially since the latest development upstairs. Emma now had the power to permanently sever Regina from Henry. If Regina threw up the walls between birth mother and son once more, Emma could bring those walls crashing back down again. She could kill Emma, but easier said than done without her powers. And her talents had always lain in manipulation, not brute force.
No, if she continued to allow Emma access to Henry, only now with her blessing, then the sheriff might be lulled. Why take the whole pie when you're already getting a piece? The vinegar hadn't succeeded; it was time for the honey.
It might work, even if Emma wasn't telling the truth when she said she wasn't taking Henry away.
And if she was, well, Regina wouldn't want to do anything to change her mind. It was ironic, but at this juncture, not trusting Emma was more dangerous than trusting her (a little).
"It's just a lot to take in," Regina added.
"Sure," Emma said. "Look, if he says he's sorry, can we skip the grounding part and move on?"
Regina chuckled. "What makes you think I have any power to keep him home anyway? Fine, if he apologizes and means it, I'll overlook it this once."
Emma nodded. "I'll make sure he understands that." She turned to head back upstairs.
"Emma, before you go?"
"Yeah?"
"I trust no one has repeated Mr. Gold's claims within your hearing?"
Emma suddenly looked very relieved. "No," she said. "No one said a thing today."
Regina smirked. "I told you not to believe him."
"I guess not. Still, why make up something like that?"
"Well," Regina replied, her mood darkening, "sometimes he just says things to hurt people."
"Emma," Dr. Hopper said, startled. "I didn't know you were coming by my office."
"Yeah, I didn't know until a little while ago myself," Emma said. "You got a minute?"
Once they were in private, Emma told him what Henry had shared with her. "He's told you all of that, right?"
Archie nodded gravely. "Yes, it was in one of our first sessions. It can be very traumatic for young children to discover they're adopted, especially when they learn the truth from something, or someone, other than their parents. I was just starting to help him process this discovery when he first began discussing the Book."
"The Book," Emma repeated in tones that were less than reverential.
"Well, suddenly that became a larger priority," he told her. "Having a child tell you he's adopted is one thing. Having him tell you that the entire world is a made-up construct, and that his mother is an evil sorceress, well, that's a different kettle of fish. Until I could convince Henry that Regina wasn't an Evil Queen capable of monstrous acts, he was never going to accept that she was still his mother, adoption or not."
"So you'd say the Book was particularly ill-timed for his treatment."
"Unfortunately, yes. He had begun reading it at a time when he felt that his mother had been lying to him his whole life. So his mind was particularly receptive to the notion that Regina was doing the same thing to the whole town." He paused. "Which has a few grains of truth, admittedly," he added dryly.
She chuckled. "She does fit the part, doesn't she?" Then she hesitated. "So you knew Mr. Gold was involved in the adoption process then?"
Dr. Hopper grimaced. "A singular man, isn't he?"
"Mary bought the Book from his pawnshop."
"Really?"
"Yep. A couple months before she gave it to Henry."
Archie looked at her very closely. "You're leading up to something here, aren't you?"
"Doc, doesn't it seem odd to you? Gold – one of only two people who knows the truth of Henry's adoption – has an argument with Regina about the adoption conveniently timed for Henry to hear it. At almost the same time, he sells Mary the Book, the same book which you've said came into his life at just the wrong time. It's almost like he was counting on Mary to give it to Henry."
"You're saying he's trying to drive Regina and Henry apart?" Archie asked. "It's a bit convoluted, don't you think?"
"He's a crooked man."
"Well, you're right, the timing is troubling. But what could be his motivation?"
Emma shrugged. "Henry did say that Gold gave him my identity because Regina tried to cheat him."
"Yes, and his little empire is practically built on paper," he replied. He hesitated. "Emma, you've clearly thought this through by yourself. Why are you asking me?"
"I . . . Archie, I want you tell me what I'm about to say sounds crazy."
"I'm a licensed psychologist, Emma. 'Crazy' isn't in my vocabulary."
"Right." She looked down. "What if Gold knew Henry would come looking for me? What if he wanted me in Storybrooke?"
Archie leaned back. "What?"
"I'm already entertaining the notion that Gold is trying to make Regina suffer by interfering in her relationship with Henry. Archie, no one has enjoyed my time here in Storybrooke less than Regina has. It's not a stretch to consider that he brought me here to accomplish just that purpose."
"But now you're Sheriff, and after what you said at the debate? Even if you're right, and that's a huge if, his plan seems to have backfired."
"No, it hasn't," she said heavily. "I found out afterwards that he wanted me to accuse him of setting the fire. He said it guaranteed my victory. And . . . I owe him a favor."
"Oh no, Emma, you didn't."
"I didn't have a choice! He was going to take Ashley's baby! So I swapped, her freedom for mine. I certainly never imagined at the time that I'd become Sheriff!"
Archie frowned. "But maybe he did."
Emma stared back at him. "Why? He couldn't have known that Graham . . . "
No. That wasn't possible.
Inducing a heart attack isn't so hard with the right poison. You've seen it before. Remember that one fugitive last October? Killed his grandmother for the inheritance?
"Tell me I'm crazy, Doctor."
Archie shook his head. "I told you, it's not in my vocabulary. And even if I wasn't a doctor . . . I might not tell you that anyway."
Dinner was as tense and awkward as the first night had not been. Henry may have technically apologized, and Regina had technically forgiven him, but there was a mutual hostility that lurked underneath the surface. Emma had problems of her own to mull over. She had reason to believe that Mr. Gold was meddling with Regina's family, helping to spread discord and strife. But she had no proof, and watching mother and son feud without being able to do anything about it made her feel guilty.
Plus, judging by the looks Henry was giving HER, he was a little disappointed in her. Which was fine, because she was a little disappointed in him.
All in all, dinner had all the right ingredients to be a nightmare even more perfect than Regina's stew.
"May I please be excused?" Henry finally asked.
"You may," Regina said evenly.
"I'll see you before you go to bed, Henry," Emma added.
"S'okay," he mumbled without enthusiasm before leaving the dining room.
Regina was up and out of her chair as soon as Henry was gone, startling Emma. She went right for the sideboard, filled a tumbler almost to the brim with cider that Emma knew to be stronger stuff than what the local farmer's market sold, and drank deeply.
"Regina?" Emma asked.
Regina paused. "Sorry," she then said. "Forgot you were there for a moment."
"Forgot, or wishful thinking?"
"Believe it or not, Sheriff, but you are not the person I am most upset with tonight," Regina replied.
If Emma hadn't been sitting there for the past hour, she wouldn't have believed it. "I can get out of your way – "
"No," Regina said, waving a hand downwards. "Stay. Otherwise I might drink myself into oblivion."
Emma stood up and walked over to where Regina was. "Then I guess I should remove some of the temptation," she said, pouring a glass of her own. "If it makes you feel any better, I think I've made up my mind about what kind of a mother you are."
Regina snorted. "The worst kind, apparently, if my son loathes me."
"Actually, I don't think you're that bad."
"Please, Sheriff Swan. One more surprise today and my chest might explode."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, you've got your faults," Emma told her.
"Do tell me what they are," Regina said wearily as she returned to her seat. "You know how highly I value your op – " And then oddly, she stopped and gestured for Emma to go on.
A bit mystified, Emma took a drink of her cider. Wow, it really did push back. "You won't ease up on him. He's ten, Regina. Sometimes you come across like Wicked Stepmother, not Evil Queen. You're not his jailer, and you're not his master. Have you ever tried using the carrot instead of the stick?"
Regina glared at her. "I expect the best from Henry."
"You expect perfection from Henry, and then you throw a hissy fit when you don't get it," Emma said, feeling her tongue loosen already.
"Hissy fit?"
Emma shrugged. "It's what I see. It's great you're giving him every advantage, but not if you beat him over the head with it if he doesn't measure up."
Regina took another drink, set her glass down, and folded her arms. "What else?"
"Henry does activities based on what you want him to do, not what he actually likes to do."
"Is this that piano again?"
"He's been playing for two years, and you never realized he didn't like it?" Emma asked incredulously. "How did you miss that? Oh yeah, and that reminds me. Henry says you leave him alone in the house for hours every Saturday. What is that about?"
"What is WHAT about?" Regina replied. "I'm the mayor. I have a very busy schedule, including Saturdays, and – "
"You're lying. If you were lying any more badly than that, your pants would be on fire," Emma said.
Regina's face grew pale. She glanced down. "If you must know, I was with Graham."
"Graham?"
"Yes, Emma," Regina said, her cheeks turning from white to red in a heartbeat. "Should I spell it out for you?"
Emma sucked in a breath. She'd already known about Regina's midnight trysts with her predecessor. Why would it surprise her that Saturday was also Regina's weekly booty call?
"Well then," Emma finally replied, seeing Regina had nothing to add. "I guess you can spend Saturdays with your son again, since you obviously won't be spending any romantic afternoons with the Sheriff anymore."
"Didn't you know? It's a job requirement. I hope you have prior experience."
Emma had prior experience with a lot of things. She'd experimented with one thing after another as a teenager, whether it was alcohol, drugs, women or men. Emma figured it had nothing to do with sexuality, and everything to do with aimlessness and boredom. "Don't even joke about that," Emma said. "Not if you don't want a mental image that'll give you a worse headache than your hangover tomorrow."
Regina smiled nastily. "True. You're probably lousy at it."
"We were talking about our son, not our sex lives."
"Right," Regina muttered. "Yes. Continue telling me how much better I could be at mothering."
"That was basically it," Emma told her. "Stop riding him like he's supposed to build the Pyramids. Let him try some activities that HE wants to do. Be his friend a little more, and his boss a little less." She took another drink and then said something she wouldn't have said two days ago. "And maybe do a better job of hiding the Book next time."
Regina's eyes widened. "Henry wouldn't be happy if he heard you saying that," she said slowly.
"Well, maybe if you let him try a few things that he might like, his world wouldn't revolve around that Book and we could have a conversation about something else besides it."
Regina set her glass down, having polished off the dregs. "I never considered that," she admitted. "But it's out of my hands now. HE'S done a much better job of hiding the Book than I did. I can't find it anywhere." She looked Emma in the eye. "I thought maybe you had it."
Emma frowned. "Well, I don't."
"Hm."
"You don't believe me?"
"Where else would he hide it?"
The castle. But that was a betrayal of Henry's trust that Emma couldn't abide by. "I'm not sure."
Regina shrugged. "He'll outgrow it eventually."
"And you're okay with 'eventually', even if that's another year or two of him believing you're the Wicked Witch of the West?" Emma asked.
"What's a couple years in this town?" Regina said cryptically.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you should have a second glass."
"Knock, knock."
"Who's there?" Emma muttered to herself. The local sociopath. The local sociopath who? The local sociopath you owe a favor to.
Mr. Gold strolled into her office and took a seat opposite her desk. "Slow Friday morning?"
"Slow every morning. I don't see many criminals in Storybrooke," Emma said pointedly.
"We are a peaceful hamlet, Sheriff," he agreed with what she supposed was a happy smile. She hated it.
"Can I help you with something?"
"Yes, you can," he said. "You can stop believing I'm something I'm not."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
He tapped on the floor with his cane. "I'm told you had a very interesting conversation yesterday with the good Dr. Hopper."
She stared at him. "What makes you say that?"
"Oh, I heard something. I've got ears everywhere, Sheriff Swan."
"Or you saw me go into his office."
"Or that," he admitted. "Still, I hate that you think I have some personal vendetta against Mayor Mills. Or that I would stoop so low as to sabotage a child's relationship with his mother."
Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Anything I discussed with Dr. Hopper was a private conversation. Only he and I would know what we talked about."
Gold shrugged. "And yet I seem to have an inkling as well. Since we both know you never said anything about it to me . . ."
He was implying that Hopper had ratted her out after she left his office yesterday. It would be patently false if she could think of an alternate answer to how Gold knew what was said.
"I don't like what you're suggesting, and I don't like you," Emma said.
"Now, don't say that," he replied, looking hurt.
"You're smug, you're arrogant, your smile is so creepy that it probably scares children, everyone in this town is afraid of you, and oh yeah, you buy and sell babies," Emma shot back. "If I wanted to have dealings with someone like you, I would have stayed in Boston and sought out the Irish mob."
His smile barely twitched, but his eyes darkened with hostility. "You won't get votes if you talk that way to all your constituents, Sheriff Swan."
"Is there a purpose to your visit, or are you just here to make my skin crawl?"
He picked imaginary lint off his sleeve. "I just wanted you to know that you're completely wrong about me, and that if you continue spreading false accusations about me, you may find out just how incredibly wrong you are."
Emma got up from her chair. "Are you threatening me?"
"Threatening you? Sheriff, I'm only giving you some information. Oh, and speaking of which . . . " He reached into his inside jacket pocket. "I thought you might like to know that I've decided how you can repay me."
Emma's hand dropped to her holster. "Maybe you should take your hand back out of your pocket – slowly."
"My goodness, Sheriff," Gold replied. "I'm certainly not going to harm someone who owes me a debt. Seems wasteful." But he did as he was told, removing a white index card as he did so.
"What's that?" she asked.
"A customer. You'll be delighted to know, by the way, that I won't ask you to compromise your office OR your morals. Actually," he said, "the one doing a favor here is me." He handed her the card.
Emma looked at it. There was only a name and a phone number. "Mallory Audley? Who's she?"
"Ms. Audley is one of Storybrooke's several practitioners at law. She has an office near City Hall, for obvious reasons."
"Why the hell would I need an attorney?" Emma asked suspiciously. "I thought you said I wouldn't have to break the law."
He chuckled. "Actually, criminal law is not her specialty, Sheriff. Ms. Audley is perhaps the best divorce lawyer in town."
Emma was even more bewildered by this turn of events than she was bothered by the dread gnawing at her belly. She didn't like this one bit. She might even have preferred being asked to look the other way while he committed some crime. Why the hell would she need to speak to a divorce lawyer? The only married couple she even knew were David and Kathryn.
"I can see I will have to spell it out for you, Sheriff," Gold said. "Tell me, what kind of disputes do divorce lawyers most often resolve for their clients?"
"Well, the division of property," Emma answered slowly, "and . . . "
And child custody agreements.
"There goes the light bulb," Gold muttered as a look of dawning horror spread across her face.
"You want me to call an attorney who specializes in family law," Emma said.
"No, I want you to make an appointment to see her at her office. Today. Lunch, maybe?"
"And Regina will find out about it."
"I imagine so. She seems to know everything."
And when Regina learned that the unmarried Emma Swan spent her lunch hour in the office of a family law specialist, her conclusion would be that Emma had gone there to discuss filing for custody of Henry. Hell, anybody would come to that conclusion, it was the only logical one. But Emma had promised Regina twenty times that she wasn't in Storybrooke to take Henry away from her. Regina would think every one of those promises had been a lie, that her paranoia had been completely justified. Her vendetta would flare up even hotter than it had ever been before, her anger fueled by betrayal and desperation.
"I'll tell her it had nothing to do with Henry," Emma told him.
Mr. Gold smiled at her. "And she will believe you – why exactly?"
Her dismay grew, because he was absolutely right. Regina would assume that any explanation was another lie. And if she'd known about what Henry had told her just yesterday afternoon, her credibility would be even more nonexistent. "Why? Why are you making me do this?"
"Well, Sheriff, maybe I'm feeling a wee bit regretful for my involvement in the mayor's adoption," he said. "Clearly she's not the one who was meant to raise him." He paused. "Or perhaps Storybrooke just doesn't feel the same without you and the mayor at each other's throats."
"So what, I'm your decoy?" Emma burst out. "You think we'll be so distracted by this that we won't pay attention to whatever you're up to?"
"Child custody disputes can turn SO ugly, Sheriff," he replied, standing up. "You'll be too distracted to remember to brush your teeth."
"There will BE no child custody dispute," she pointed out, "because I'm not going to retain this woman."
"Then the mayor will retain her, and she'll preemptively take YOU to court, and she'll win, and you'll never see the boy again," Gold responded. "Take my advice, Sheriff. This is going to happen. You should begin planning strategy with Ms. Audley today."
Helplessly Emma watched him leave. She wasn't even ready to raise a ten-year-old boy! She could barely handle being in one place for so long. She'd make a total botch of it, she knew it. Assuming Regina didn't kill her first.
There had to be another way.
But by the time Emma reluctantly left for her appointment, she couldn't think of one.
To be continued . . .