Ever since Kathryn Nolan's car turned up abandoned on the side of the road, Emma had felt dread steadily mounting as the circumstances proceeded to get worse and worse. First with her suspicions circled cautiously around David who seemed genuinely distraught and confused by his estranged wife's disappearance in direct contrast to the evidence she'd discovered. It of course had been hypothetical until Ruby had unearthed a damned box with a real heart inside.

Then the relief of discovering finger prints on the interior of the chest was short lived when the results came back as the last person she'd ever want to suspect: Mary Margaret. She ran the comparison five times before working up the courage to go find the woman and bring her to the station. The sheriff strived to keep her professionalism as she snapped her mug shot but it was difficult when her roommate was looking at her with wounded eyes and questioning her motives. For now Emma just had to hope that Mary Margaret knew she had the best intentions as she lead her to an interrogation room.

They entered the dark figure already seated at the table turned to them. "Hello Ms. Blanchard."

The schoolteacher balked at the sight of Mayor Mills primly seated at the small table. She looked to Emma. "What is she doing here?

"She asked to be here as a third party to make sure I stay impartial." Emma explained. "It can only help you."

Her suspect took the seat across from Regina and Emma settled in next to her, trying to ignore the way her skin tingled with the other woman near. Mary Margaret proclaimed. "I have nothing to hide. Ask me anything."

With an unimpressed sideways glance from the older woman, Emma started the tape recorder. "The heart was found buried near the old toll bridge. It had been cut out by what appears to be a hunting knife. Have you ever been to that bridge before?"

"Yes. Many times." Tears already glistened in Mary Margaret's eyes. "It's where David and I like to meet."

"Mr. Nolan." Emma sought official confirmation.

"Yes." Came the tense reply.

The sheriff stood to retrieve something from the evidence locker along the wall behind her. "And you met there for what purpose?"

"We were having an affair. I'm not proud of what happened and I'm sorry. But that doesn't change the fact that I did not kill Kathryn." She spoke with soft conviction, seemingly only to Regina who had remained surprisingly quiet so far. Emma presented the unidentified box to the room.

"Have you ever seen this before?"

She stared for a second like she couldn't understand how the object came to be there. "Yes, it's my jewelry box."

"That's what we found the heart in…" Emma's stomach flipped as Mary Margaret's voice started to develop the shrill note of panic.

"Don't you see what's happening here? Someone stole that box and put the heart in it. I didn't have anything to do with it. I'm innocent."

"Ms. Blanchard." Regina caught a trembling hand, her tone low and soothing. "It's okay. I know what you're going through. I know what it's like to lose someone you love, to be publically humiliated. It put me in a very dark place, changed me. I can only imagine what losing David Nolan did to you."

Mary Margaret ripped her hand away, "I haven't changed. I'm still the same person I've always been, a good person. I did not do this."

Emma had been intensely observing Regina, the truth so breathtakingly evident as she talked about experiencing loss and being in the dark, a feeling Emma knew herself. There was still so much mystery about the woman she hadn't managed to unravel. A fresh pang of hurt echoed in her chest knowing she would never be able to know the story behind her. But she couldn't be concerned about that now, needing to remind Regina of her place in this interview. She asked flatly. "Can I speak to you in the hallway please?"

"I told you to leave the questioning to me." Emma said tartly.

Regina took a half step forward when there were already too close to begin with. "How do you know she didn't do it? If that box had been stolen from her as she claims, don't you think there would be signs of a break in? You're her roommate. Tell me; has there been a break in?"

Regina took her silence as defeat. "She is a woman who's had her heart broken and that- can make you do unspeakable things."

/

She really had no business being the town sheriff. Emma still didn't know all the protocol and rules involved in the position, mostly she was just going off the brief months she had observed Graham and some Law and Order reruns if she were being honest. But she had her intuition and experience with the law, albeit the blonde had been evading the law but that hardly mattered. That expertise was helping her now more than anything as she combed through her and Mary Margaret's apartment for signs of forced entry. She began by canvassing the building thinking how she would break in. The fire escape would have been the easiest route but upon examining the area she found nothing incriminating. Not even an errant shoes print that wasn't supposed to be there. Inside the apartment, she ran nimble fingers over edge of the door feeling for splintered wood. She looked for scratches around the keyhole to see the lock had been picked. As she began checking one of the windows a faint noise, someone was shuffling into the space, causing her to whip around.

"Henry?" Surprised to see the boy standing there, "What are you doing here?"

"You have to help Ms. Blanchard. She's innocent." He declared urgently, unsurprisingly already hearing the news of her arrest. Word spread like wild fire through town as it was. Taking the homely fifth grade teacher into custody for the murder of the wife of the man who she was having an affair with probably spontaneously combusted across town.

"I know Henry."

"Then why did you arrest her?"

"The evidence so far had been overwhelming. I can't ignore it or it will seem like favoritism." Her jewelry box buried at the toll bridge might as well have been a signed confession.

He chirped eagerly, "I want to help too."

She sighed, "It's nice that you're concerned about your teacher but you need to go home."

She put on her best serious-business expression, her lips drawing into a thin hard line and placing her hands squarely on her hips. Regina would really have her head if she found out she allowed her 10-year-old son to aid in a murder investigation. However, her intimidation tactics had little effect on him.

"Come on. What kind of trouble can I get to into your apartment?" He gave her his best charming grin, which immediately melted her resolve. He could be a manipulative little punk when he wanted to be. Plus, Regina still limited her contact with him to essentially nothing and she could bring herself to turn him away. She ruefully returned the smile.

"Alright, but just stay out of the way." Emma ruffled his hair as she moved to the window above Mary Margret's bed. She quickly found the glass was disappointingly whole and the latch firmly locked with no suggestion of tampering.

"What are you looking for anyways?"

"Broken glass, forced locks, anything that would indicate someone breaking in." She huffed in defeat having come up empty handed.

"So you think she is being framed?"

"It has to be the only explanation. The only problem is I don't know who would have motive to do that." She replied distractedly then paused, the photographs her roommate kept on her dresser catching her attention. Picking up the one in a solid, brown frame, the picture showed the humble, kind woman with a few of her students, Henry included. They were all holding up some sort of mobile that had been a class project that really seemed to be some junk on strings to Emma, but the kids were so pleased with the work, showcasing their wide, crooked smiles.

"The Evil Queen hates Snow White." Her eyes snapped up to him and she gave him an incredulous look.

"Your mom?"

"It's true." He shrugged. "You asked for a motive."

"Sorry kid, I don't think 'The Evil Queen hates Snow White' will hold up in court. We need actual proof." She said not bothering to point out how outlandish it would be for his own mother to be involved in the set up. Emma glanced back down at the picture. The kids were so proud of themselves but no one looked as proud or happy as Mary Margaret did. The blonde simply could not believe that this was the type of person to murder someone not matter what Regina said.

Settling the photo back in its place, the frustrated sheriff flopped back onto the soft, worn quilt of her roommate's bed, her mind unwillingly wandering to thoughts of the beautiful mayor. They still purposefully evaded each other, and when they did cross paths it inevitably ended in a simmering argument or barely veiled threats. Like when they had a tense discussion at the station while she interview Mary Margaret. She was surprised Mayor Mills had insisted on being present during the questioning, seeing as it violated the terms of their avoid-each-other-at-all-cost arrangement. The demanding woman forced her way into the interrogation room, proclaiming she was a non-biased three party observer. Emma didn't have a lot of leverage to say no but she establish the condition that she was to do all the questioning.

While the mayor had been surprisingly docile during most the the interview, she still managed to coyly sneak in her own version of events that heavily implied the schoolteachers guilt. Mary Margaret managed to maintain her innocence while Emma dragged the woman out to lecture her on who was in charge, which she flat out ignored. There was something she had said thought that still resonated in Emma's head. She's a woman who's had her broken heart, and that can make you do unspeakable things.

And what broke your heart so badly? The question had been on the tip of her tongue but she refrained. It would not be wise to provoke her temper under the tenuous situation. She needed to be focusing on finding the real perpetrator of the crime, if a crime had even taken place as she was still waiting on the forensics of the heart. For all she knew, and desperately hoped, it was and elaborate prank and Kathryn was safely and obliviously starting a new life in Boston. So running the investigation took top priority and she was still trying to get back in good graces to see Henry more. As much as she wanted to draw out Regina and get her into a fight, possibly get some real answers from her for once, Emma instead excused herself. Apologetically escorting her roommate to the holding cells and leaving her there to hunt for clues.

Searching for more clues was primarily her goal, but she had also needed to get out of Regina's presence and collect herself. The blonde hated it but she missed the fiery woman, the passion of their encounters and more than that, the feeling of belonging she had come to associate with her. In the dark hours of the night, she would lie awake in bed, feeling the painful pull in her chest, like a rope strung too tight and the cord was fraying, threatening to snap completely. While the brunette had been infuriatingly unfettered by their interaction, Emma was left feeling even more hopeless, feeling like she was suspended from a cliff not knowing when the line would break.

In the midst of her thoughts, Emma heard the familiar sound of the heat kicking on but it was accompanied by a strange muffled rattling sound. She sat up suddenly, glancing over at Henry in confusion as if he were the source of the sound. The boy was standing still and silent however, watching her perplexed. The sheriff quickly honed in on the origin of the noise, which was coming from the vent just at the foot of the bed. She noticed quickly that the screws were loose, having been haphazardly wound in. A couple of ease turns and the slatted, metal covering easily pulled off. Her hand disappeared down the shaft, coming into contact with a soft fabric, but she could feel it concealed a hard, solid object.

She lifting it from the hiding place, Emma saw the cloth was a floral handkerchief, not unlike one Mary Margaret may own but she'd never seen it before. Dread already filled her stomach, her fingers carefully pushing back the fabric until a large knife was revealed. It gleamed dangerously in her hands as she stared at it in shock. Things had suddenly become much worse.