At the Mills mansion, the mayor sat across from her daughter at the dinner table.

"Your lasagna tastes perfectly adequate, Virginia," said the mayor, in a tone that suggested she was giving out the compliment of the century. "Why have you barely touched it?" Virginia twirled the fork between her fingers nervously. "Is something troubling you, sweetie?"

Virginia took a deep breath and then cleared her throat. "You know what, Mother? I think we should…" The mayor raised her eyebrows and shot her daughter a glance that told her she'd better not say the wrong thing or else. "…I think we should go out more often!"

Cora frowned, looked at her daughter sternly, and set her fork down on the table.

"Virginia, sweetie…" she said in a voice dripping with honey. "We do go out. We go out almost every day."

"All we do is drive to City Hall too early in the morning to see anyone, and then I drive back and make dinner while you walk around and do…whatever." Virginia sighed to herself and tried not to show that her heart was pounding. Why was this so hard? Why did she have this utterly irrational fear of upsetting her mother?

The mayor's eyes narrowed. Whatever was going on, she hadn't counted on it affecting her daughter this way. Back in the Enchanted Forest, she would have dealt with it by using magic to clamp her daughter's hands to the table or bind her arms to her sides. But this was Storybrooke.

"Virginia…" said Cora. "Why are you being like this? Haven't I been good to you all these years?"

"I suppose you have," said Virginia carefully.

"And don't I keep you busy enough around the house and the office?"

"Yes, but…"

"Virginia," the mayor leaned in and placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Don't. Ever. Ask me that. Again."

Virginia gulped. "Yes, Mother." The mayor smiled and leaned back in her chair, proud that she had as usual succeeded in frightening her daughter.

Meanwhile at Granny's, a much less tense family dinner was occurring.

"My day was pretty boring, actually," said Henry. "All I ended up doing was helping someone who got lost in the woods. You probably know her…Her name's Eleanor."

"Oh," said Helena. Eleanor getting lost in the woods made sense. She did think she was a fairytale princess after all. "You know she has a boyfriend, right?"

"Why does everyone assume that I can't be alone with a woman for five minutes without being indecent?" asked Henry.

"Do I really have to answer that?" Helena retorted. "Excuse me. I'll be right back." She got up and left for the ladies room.

"Hey, Henry," Ruby greeted him cheerfully as she set down a plate with a burger and fries in front of Henry. "You alright?"

Henry smiled. "Never been better. Really. I'm okay. Thank you for helping them rescue me."

"Oh, it was no problem," said Ruby. "Actually, there was one point where you were in the mine talking, calling out for someone to help you, and I could hear you. I could even hear your footsteps, plain as day, but nobody else could. It was so strange."

"You have an unusually good sense of hearing? Do you have an unusually good sense of smell, too?"

"Now that you mention it...lately, I've been able to smell whatever Granny is cooking at the diner from the inside of the hotel if one of the windows is open."

Henry raised his eyebrows. If this girl who wasn't aware she was a girl who wasn't aware she was a werewolf still had animalistic tendencies, or was getting them back as the curse was wearing off, she could potentially be extremely useful. "How old are you, Ruby?"

Ruby beamed. "Eighteen in one week!" Henry and several other customers clapped.

"Well, if you ever get bored of working here at the diner," said Henry. "Graham and I just might have enough room in our budget to hire a part-time assistant."

Ruby squealed. "Oh my God, really? I'd love to! I've been wanting to get out of here and off the early shift for so long you have no idea!"

Henry smiled. "Actually, I think I do."

Sitting at the booth behind Henry was a family of two that included another person who had a lot more on his mind than he was discussing with anyone. One out of only a handful of Storybrooke's residents who had consciously watched twenty-eight years go by holding conflicting realities in his head, he was more eager to learn more about Henry and Helena than anyone could have possibly imagined.

"Papa?" his little girl tugged on his sleeve in her booster seat. "Ice keem? Pwease?"

Jefferson put his finger to his lips. His two-year-old daughter stared up at him with her round beautiful eyes and baby pump cheeks, making it impossible for him to say no. "Of course, my Grace," he said with a smile, patting her leg. He turned to Ruby long enough to order dessert from her.

For twenty-eight years, Jefferson's memory had reminded him of who he really was. He was a master of the hat who had served many rich and powerful people. He was a man who had lost the person he loved most in all the realms along with his pride. But most of all, he was a man who had come from a world with magic. But what the curse was causing him to feel like was a simple business owner who let his managers run the formalwear shop while he spent the days with Paige. The evil witch had not failed to give him a false identity or memories, but she had failed to take away the ones he already had. And to him, that felt like the worst curse imaginable.

"Here's your ice cream!" said Ruby cheerfully as she set it down in front of the little girl. "Do you want me to bring you the check?"

"Yes, please," said Jefferson. He quietly fed ice cream to his daughter while he listened carefully to the Stable siblings. They were having some trouble with their car not starting. The sister wanted to get out of town but the brother didn't, from what he gathered. The sister wasn't sure why the brother wanted to stay. Maybe the brother knew something about this town that she didn't. Whatever their purpose was here, they were definitely here for a reason. Other than the baby Mr. and Mrs. Gold had adopted, they were the first visitors Storybrooke had ever had.

For the past twenty-eight years, all Jefferson had done was put Grace in her stroller every day and take her for walks, to the toy store, to the park, and to Granny's. He had been trying to teach her to count to ten for twenty-eight years, but she could never make it past seven, always skipped four, and always said "fix" instead of "six". Her two-year-old brain was just as incapable of progression as everything else in this town. Until last Thursday night, when the clock tower started moving again. excellent use of a fragment Jefferson hadn't noticed it himself until the next morning and had been instantly filled with the strongest hope he had ever felt. Maybe, after all these years, time could be moving forward again. Of course, that hope had been crushed when he'd overheard Mr. Gold telling the mayor that he'd arranged for some acquaintances to stop by and fix it.

But then he had spotted the newcomers around town. He had observed them as best he could from a distance, and had heard Henry asking David Nolan and some other residents of Storybrooke questions. He had learned Henry was a detective and gotten the feeling from what he had heard of him that Henry was making it his personal business to keep tabs on as many people in the town as he possibly could. He had watched the clock tower keep running. keep running OR you have to say clock tower clock He had watched subtle changes in the lifestyle patterns of Storybrooke's residents. For example, on Friday, Mary Margaret taught part of her lesson outside when she normally only taught outdoors on Wednesdays. Then on Saturday, Granny had decided to make French toast the breakfast special instead of pancakes. On Sunday, he noticed David Nolan sitting next to Mary Margaret in church instead of next to his mother, and on Monday, Sheriff Graham had stepped out of the police station at a time that when he normally never did.

But most of all, on Monday evening, while he was in Grace's bedroom tucking her and her stuffed animals into bed, he had been counting her stuffed animals as he'd tucked them in. "One, two three..." he began.

"Four!" Grace had cut in with an innocent smile. "Five, Fix, Seven, Eight!" She had stared up at her father's shocked expression for two full minutes. "Papa, what wrong?"

"Nothing, Grace," Jefferson had whispered, scooping his daughter out from under the covers and pulling her into a tight hug, almost crying with relief. "Nothing at all."

Something in this town had changed. And as far as he could tell, the Stable siblings were the only variable.

"Are you sure that staying in town is even what's best for Kayla?" the sister said to the brother. "I understand why you want to be a part of her life, but you've got to make sure you're putting her needs first."

Jefferson's heart started pounding involuntarily. What did Kayla Gold have to do with any of this?

But just like that, the brother's guard went up again. "We're not talking about this now, Helena." He dropped some money on the table and walked away. "Have a good night."

And then a lightbulb went on in Jefferson's head as he signed the check and handed it to Ruby. He smiled, scooped up Grace, and walked over to Granny, who was behind the counter chatting with Marco.

As soon as Granny saw Jefferson and his daughter, her face lit up and she turned her full attention to the little girl, completely ignoring Jefferson. "How are you doing, lil' munchkin?" crooned Granny. The child waved shyly.

"Ms. Lucas, would you mind babysitting tomorrow afternoon for a couple of hours?" asked Jefferson. "I'll pay you."

"Oh, sure!" said Granny.

"I won't take too long," Jefferson tapped Grace's nose and she giggled. "Daddy just has a couple of errands to run."

The next morning, Henry and Aurora were sitting on a park bench exchanging observations about the town.

"If Ruby still has the werewolf abilities of smell and hearing, she might also have tracking abilities," said Henry. "As soon as she starts working for me, I'm going to use her to try to locate the mayor's vault of hearts and anything else she might have."

"I wish I could be of help finding those things too," said Aurora regretfully. "It's just that I haven't been here awake very long…"

"It's fine," Henry assured her. "If you had, you wouldn't remember who you are anyway."

Aurora nodded. "Yesterday I saw a man who was once a member of my father's royal guard," she said. "The last time I saw him, he was a soldier who had recently overcome a pathological fear of war and saved many lives. My father admired his spirit and made him a knight. But now he's afraid again. At one point I saw him run screaming out of a bar just because two men started yelling at each other. And my Phillip, God bless him, he isn't half the man he used to be. The prince I left behind when the sleeping curse struck had more courage and heart than it appears Kevin ever could."

"Maybe when they all get their memories back, he'll become Phillip again," Henry suggested sympathetically.

"I hope so," whispered Aurora with a longing look in her eyes. "But my point is, I think the curse did more to all these people than just give them false memories and make them forget about magic. I think it returned them to a former state of being. A state in which they weren't fully themselves yet."

Henry was silent for a moment. The only person he'd interacted with so far here who he'd really known before was James, and David certainly didn't have the strength James had had. "I think you're right," said Henry. And he couldn't help but wonder…what effect had that had on his parents?

Helena entered the sheriff station with a box of donuts. She looked around and saw only Graham. "Henry's out on patrol right now," Graham explained. "But if you really need someone to take those off your hands, I'm available."

Helena half-smiled. "Actually, I was just going to offer each of you one. They're for the animal shelter. I'm volunteering there."

It was then that Graham noticed the "Volunteer" badge Helena was wearing. Helena took the lid off the box and held it out. "You want one?"

"Of course." Graham peered into the box. "Mmm, bear claw."

"The bear claw is mine," Helena half scolded, swatting swating? his hand away. Graham pretended to hold his hands up in surrender for a moment and then chose a different donut. Helena walked over to Henry's desk to set the one she knew he'd like down on a paper plate.

"Oh, shit," Graham whispered.

"What?" asked Helena.

"Mayor Mills is coming up the front steps," said Graham. "I think she's found out about Henry being trapped in the mine after she told us to stay away from it."

Helena's jaw hit the floor. "What? He told me he didn't do anything interesting yes-"

"Shh! Let me do all the talking!"

Helena quietly stood by Henry's desk and looked the other way while the mayor burst in the door.

"What can I do for you, Mayor Mills?" said Graham in the most humble tone he could muster.

"I'm just here to make sure that you're aware of the fact that the mine collapsed on itself again last night," said the mayor.

"I was aware that was a possibility that could happen, yes," said Graham. "Rest assured that every precaution is being taken to ensure that none of Storybrooke's citizens go anywhere near that mine."

The mayor smiled. Helena noticed out of the corner of her eye that the mayor was smiling with her mouth but not her eyes. "Excellent," she said. "That's what I like to hear. I'm going to be out of my office all day long for a meeting to discuss what to do with the mine site, so please don't come to bother me for any reason."

"No problem, Madame Mayor," said Graham sincerely.

The mayor glanced at Helena and frowned. "Who's that girl?"

"I'm just here to deliver the donuts he ordered!" said Helena, perhaps a little too quickly and cheerfully. "See you next week!" She exited the building as quickly as possible.

"So what do I start with?" asked Helena as she polished off the last bite of her bear claw. "Do I walk dogs or something?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could run an errand for me," said David sheepishly. "I hate to ask you to do this on your first day, but since there's no one else here I figure that it's better to send you out than to leave you in charge of the whole building."

"Oh, that's no problem," said Helena. "A little fresh air never hurt anyone."

"Glad to hear that, because you'll be going to the stables," David explained. "Someone called here this morning asking for a volunteer." He handed her a map he'd scribbled for her on a scrap of paper.

"Why would the stables call us asking for a volunteer?" asked Helena. "I don't know anything about horses."

"Me, neither," David admitted. "Apparently one of their mares died giving birth a few hours ago, and they need help feeding the foal. I'm sure they'll explain to you how it works."

Helena arrived at the stables about twenty minutes later. The entire facility consisted of one small twelve-stall barn managed by a kind man in his late fifties.

"I appreciate you stopping by," he said in a kind voice that reminded Helena vaguely of Virginia. "I hope you understand how important this is. The foal needs to be fed every four hours around the clock until she's old enough to wean, and I'd wear myself out trying to do it all on my own on top of everything else."

"I'm not sure how many times a day we'll be able to make it out here," Helena admitted. "I'll talk to David about it later."

"Thank you," said the worried old man. "The bottles of goat's milk you'll be feeding her are in the fridge next to the feed shed and the foal is in the third stall down."

Helena wasn't sure he'd heard what she said, but she went and got the milk to give to the foal anyway. The little horse was standing in the back of her stall facing the corner. Helena hesitantly entered the stall, walked up to the horse's shoulder, and patted her to get her attention. The foal turned her head as soon as she realized there was a bottle of milk and began to suckle. Helena smiled and stood as still as she could holding the bottle. The filly's large brown eyes looked into hers. She was chestnut colored with a thick brown stripe down her face.

After the foal had finished drinking, she let go of the bottle and nudged Helena playfully. Helena smiled and patted her shoulder firmly. The foal nudged her again, this time hard enough to have knocked her over if she hadn't been standing right up next to the wall. Helena bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Bad horsey!" The foal stepped back and shook her head like a wet dog, then stomped one hoof impatiently. Helena smiled and went closer to her and continued petting her for several minutes.

"Did she take the bottle from you?"

Helena looked up and saw the barn manager standing in the doorway. "Yeah."

"Good," he said. "I hope you can manage to send someone down here a couple of times a day and for at least one of the night shifts. I just hate to see her spend so much time alone, you know. I don't have any nursing mares that could take her right now, so without her mother she's got nothing."

"I'll definitely stop by at least once a day," Helena promised. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Can't say that she does," said the old man. "Let me know if you think of something."

Helena continued stroking the horse while she thought through what might be a good name for her. She didn't really know much about horse names other than the ones that Henry had told her about in his fairy tale, the one about their real parents owning a stable. The names, along with most details of that story, had stayed consistent over the years. Rocinante, Gallant, Excellence, Nickers, Fireball, Flutterdash, Firefly, of those sounded like an awful lot of name for a horse the size of a large dog, Helena thought as the filly nudged her lightly and began rubbing her head against her leg. But Nickers might be cute.

Then Helena realized what she was doing and nearly kicked herself. What was she thinking? She couldn't get attached to a horse that lived in Storybrooke. It was bad enough that she was getting attached to some of the people here, and those she could theoretically keep in touch with after she left.

"I'll see you tomorrow, horsey," said Helena as she patted the foal's side firmly. She walked out of the stall and closed the half-door firmly to keep the foal from following her. She froze when she saw the nameplate that was printed on it.

Nickers.

Before Helena had a chance to take in how strange a coincidence it was that the only name she'd thought of for the filly had apparently been her mother's name, she looked around at the nameplates of the other stalls around her.

Rocinante. Gallant. Excellence. Fireball. Flutterdash. Firefly. Starlight.

"Are you done with her for now?" asked the barn manager, who was standing next to Starlight's stall feeding him a bucket of grain.

"The…the names of the other horses," Helena stammered. "How did you come up with them?"

The barn manager shrugged. "They've had those names as long as I can remember. Why?"

"I…see you later."

At 11:13 p.m. on every Wednesday afternoon, Mr. Gold left his shop to harass Mother Superior about the rent for approximately thirty-two minutes before going back to town to eat lunch with Belle at the library. Jefferson hoped that this Wednesday would be no exception. It was, but fortunately Mr. Gold was only three minutes off from his usual schedule. At 11:16, he limped out of his shop and drove off, and at 11:20, Jefferson was able to sneak into the shop using one of the keys he had copied a few years ago just in case he ever needed it.

Once inside, Jefferson searched for something, anything, that could be storing the documents he was looking for. He didn't have to look very hard. They were lying in an unlocked drawer in Mr. Gold's office in a file folder clearly labled "Kayla-official paperwork, 1994". It almost appeared that Mr. Gold didn't even care who looked at these papers, as opposed to many other things in here that were kept under lock and key. Jefferson eagerly took the folder and opened it. There were two pieces of paper inside. The piece of paper The one on the top of the stack was Kayla's birth certificate which had been issued after her adoption, in Storybrooke. That read "Kayla Belle Gold" and listed Mr. and Mrs. Gold as her mother and father. The other piece of paper was Kayla's original birth certificate and merely read "Baby Girl Stable". Her parents on that birth certificate were listed as "Henry Stable and Aerona". No surname on the mother. Just "Aerona". But Jefferson already had all the information he needed. He was already choking with rage.

Jefferson shoved the folder's contents back into it, slammed the drawer, and exited the pawn shop without bothering to lock up.

"Please understand, Miss Ginger, we can't come by your house every time you hear a strange noise," Henry paused as the elderly woman went on about the howling she was hearing outside her house. "That sounds like a dog to me. Toss a cookie out the window and see if he calms down. Okay? Yeah, you, too." Henry hung up the phone just as a man he recognized as Aurora's prince walked through the door of the police station.

"Can I help you?" asked Henry.

"Yeah, hi," said the man. "My name's Kevin. Eleanor's boyfriend?"

"Nice to officially meet you," Henry shook the other man's hand firmly. Kevin averted his eyes.

"You and Eleanor are pretty good friends, huh?" asked Kevin.

Taken aback, Henry shook his head. "Not really. I've helped her when she's gotten lost a couple of times, and she likes to stop by and ask me questions about the town." He realized what Kevin was getting at. "If you're worried that there's even remotely anything going on between us, don't."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Henry assured him. "It's not like that at all. She loves you. And I would never intentionally go after someone who was dating someone else. Ever."

Kevin hesitated before nodding and accepting Henry's explanation. "Okay."

Moments later, the door opened again, and in stormed a strange-looking man with curly hair and a bizarrely elegant outfit.

"Hi, can I help you?" asked Henry as the stranger strode up to him.

The stranger stood still on the other side of the desk for a minute, staring Henry down so hard that Kevin backed out of the way to avoid him. "What's your problem?" asked Henry. He'd never seen the guy before in his life. That was when the stranger's fist made contact with Henry's left cheekbone.

"Hey!" yelled Henry. 'What the hell was that for?"

"Yeah, Jefferson!" said Kevin as he stepped further out of the way.

Without hesitation, the stranger replied calmly, "Sleeping with my wife."