I sighed as I walked through my front door, dropping my briefcase to the floor wearily. It had been a very long day at work. With the loss of their sheriff and my mother on the loose, people were beginning to panic. It didn't help much when Leroy burst into Granny's yelling about how we were all doomed to anyone who had ears. As a result, I was now flooded with emails and paperwork that would take weeks to get through, and I came home every day utterly spent.

I hung up my coat on the hook and walked over to the sitting room. Usually I was a stickler over leaving shoes on the floor, but this past week I'd been so tired I didn't care. I kicked off my heels and plopped on the couch, putting my feet up on the pillow. I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. I was more than ready for a glass of red wine and good music.

But it didn't last. I'd only been sitting for a couple of minutes when I heard a knock at the door. I groaned in protest, but another knock motivated me to get up. I walked up to the door and peered through the peephole. Recognizing the visitor, I opened the door.

"David? What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm here to pick up Henry, like I have every day this week," he replied.

"Oh! I thought Mary Margaret told you: I had to work late today, so I asked her to take Henry home from school."

"Really?" David asked. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone to check. "Yep. It's dead." He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Are you okay, David?" I inquired, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he reassured me. "I'm just tired. The station's been really busy this week."

"Well, would you like to come in for a minute? I'm leaving in a little bit, but I'm sure you'd like to put your feet up."

"Honestly? That would be great."

I stepped aside and ushered David inside. Immediately, he walked into the sitting room and sat in one of the armchairs. I was constantly having to remind myself that David and I were a lot closer than I remembered. Even so, I was a little bit annoyed that he didn't even ask to sit or wait for me. He groaned loudly as he lowered himself into the cusions.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I just haven't sat down in a while. It feels nice."

I nodded. "Do you want anything? I have some apple cider I made yesterday."

"You got anything stronger?"

I chuckled. "Of course." I walked over to the table in the hallway and poured two glasses of the whiskey from the decanter. For some reason, I found David's request incredibly funny. Not neccissarily that what he said was humorous...but how he said it made me want to laugh. I couldn't figure out why, though. I shook it off, realizing that I was just standing by the table, not moving, while I had a guest waiting for a drink.

"Thank you," said David as I handed him his drink.

"You're welcome." I took a seat and started sipping from the crystal glass. We sat in silence for a minute, just sipping our drinks and looking off into the distance. Then I heard a faint clink and rustling, and I looked toward the sound. David had sat up and placed his glass on the coffee table. He was looking pointedly at a large scrapbook in the middle of a table.

"Did Mary Margaret give you that?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered. "She was hoping it might help with..." I trailed off. He understood.

"I see. Well, has it?"

"I don't know yet. I wanted to look at it with Emma."

He nodded in understanding. "Are you going to wisit her tonight?"

"Yes. I was actually going to leave in a couple minutes."

"Regina..."David hesitated. It seemed like he was trying to find the right words.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember anything? Anything at all since the curse was broken?"

"Oh." I scrunched my face in concentration, trying to pull every scrap from my memeory. "I remember my son. I remember that he had something to do with the curse being broken. I remember...Henry encouraging me to be good...I remember screwing up so many times I can't even count them. I remember my mother, Peter Pan...the Wicked Witch. I remember meeting Robin Hood, living with Roland..." I trailed off again.

"And do you remember how those things happened?"

I tried. I poked into the depths of my memory, into the radio noise. As I tried to break through, the noise got louder and louder in my brain. Sweat began to form on my brow as I fought head began to feel hot, hotter, hotter, until I thought my brain was going to explode. Finally, I let go, crying out in pain. David rushed over to where I lay limp on the couch.

"Regina? Regina, are you oay?

"I...I will be in a moment," I said, trying to sound calm. "Just...give me a second."

David ran into the kitchen. I heard drawers being opened and closed, and the water ran for a few seconds. When he came back, he brought a wet rag and placed it on my forehead. I had to admit, it felt nice. Suddenly, there was something cold against my lips. David had lifted a glass of water to my lips and was trying to help me drink. I sipped gratefully. As the cool, clear liquid ran down my throat I began to feel just a bit better. I began taking bigger gulps, feeling better with each drop. Finally, David took away the glass and set it on the table. I lifted a trmbling hand to put pressure on the rag, letting the cool moisure settle and clear my head. I sighed in relief.

"What was that?" David asked, concerned.

"It won't let me through," I answered. "It won't let me remember."

David's eyes widened in realization. "That's what happens when you try?"

I nodded.

David shook his head. "Oh my god. I'm sorry. I had no idea. If I'd known-"

"David, it's okay," I tried to reassure him. "It's not so bad at this point. I've gotten...accustomed to it."

"Accustomed to it?" he asked, surprised. "How often do you try?"

I shrugged. "About every night."

"You do this every night?"

"Yes. It's not so bad. I'm completely back to normal in less than an hour."

David shook his head and smiled. "You know, you never cease to amaze me."

I laughed. "Really? Should I be insulted?"

David chuckled. "I should hope not." Suddenly he grew serious. "Regina, I know you may not remember it..."

Uh oh.

"...but regardless, I am your father-in-law. We have been family for almost a year now. You already know that I want to help you with anything you need. But also...I know you might rather just talk to Henry or Mary Margaret, but if you ever needed someone to talk to, for anything, I'm here for you. You are like a daughter to me now, even if it's just by law."

I was moved. I'd never felt this much acceptance from him before. Well, at least that I remembered. I couldn't blame him, after hunting him and his wife down for years.

"We've really come full circle, haven't we?" I said.

"Yeah. I suppose we have."

"Well, I'm feeling a lot better. I should probably go see Emma before it gets too late."

"Are you sure you're alright to drive? You seemed really shaken up."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry, I wouldn't drive if I thought I couldn't.

"Alright," he said doubtfully. "Just be careful, alright?"

"I will. And David?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. For everything."

He smiled his charming smile. "Of course, Regina." Then he left. I followed close behind, grabbing the scrap book on my way out the door.

I tromped through the forest with nothing but the scrap book and a flashlight. The dark trees towered over me, their sillouettes only discernable from the lines where the stars ceased to shine. Twigs and leaves crackled and snapped beneath my feet, making me increasingly anzious with each step. There was a faint wind, which rustled and moaned through the trees. I shivered as I felt the cool air caress my neck and make my hair stand on end.

Suddenly I was startled by a sound behind me, like the ghostly call of a woman. I jumped and whipped around, shining my light towards the source of the sound. I heard the frantic flutter of wings and saw a small, brown shape fly away, disappearing into the trees. "Pull yourself together, Regina," I said to myself. "It's just an owl." Then I realized how insane I sounded, talking to myself alone in the middle of the woods. It was so silent, though; it was erie. Any sound at all, even the sound of my own voice, helped dispel the nervous feeling creeping up my spine. I tried to shake it off, and continued walking towards the blonde who was waiting for me.

I finally made it to the clearing. As I approached Emma's sleeping figure, I saw the lamp that David had set up near the stump. David had been visiting Emma, as well. I would pass him on the road sometimes as I left to pick up Henry after my visits. I couldn't imagine what he said to her every night, but every time I visited there was a new flower in Emma's hands.

I walked over to the lamp and turned the knob, watching the bulb slowly come to life. The soft, yellow glow fell on Emma's smooth, pale face. Her hair shone on the light, seeming to shimer as if it were made from pure gold. No matter how many times I saw her, I was always stunned by her beauty. I took a few minutes just to look at her, like I did most days. And it helped me to think of what to say to her.

Finally, I sat down and spoke. "Hey, Emma. It's Regina again. Um...Oh, so Henry called me at work today. He told me he got an A on his English paper. I read it before he turned it in; he's really good. His teacher says that he could be a writer some day. Henry was so excited when I told him. He wants to write our story for us, isn't that sweet?"

Suddenly I remembered what was in my hands. "Mary Margaret gave me this scrap book, too. She thought that maybe it could help me remember. I haven't looked at it yet. I thought...I thought it would be nice to look at these with you. Also, this is the only 'alone time' I get nowadays. There's always someone there, even when I'm working. So, I hope you don't mind if I look at this here."

I took a deep breath, and opened the scrapbook. The first page had nothing but a title, written in Mary Margaret's simple, elegant hand. The Charming Family Album Vol. 3. "Not very creative with her titles, is she?" I chuckled. I flipped the page. The first picture on the page stopped me in my tracks. Half of the town seemed to be in the picture. David was sitting with his arm around Mary Margaret on the right side of the table, Henry was on the left next to me. Granny, Ruby, the Dwarves, and Katherine were behind all of us, all with wide, genuine smiles (well, except for Leroy's strained attempt). I sat right in the middle of the picture, next to Emma. We were both grinning from ear to ear, but that's not what caught my attention. Emma and I both had our left hands lifted up, displaying the bright diamond rings on our ring fingers. I decided to read the caption out loud for Emma. "Emma and Regina's engagement announcement. The whole town came by to support them. They've come so far since this whole thing started, both the town and my girls.

"'My girls?'" I laughed. "I didn't know that I was one of Mary Margaret's 'girls' now." I examined the picture futher. "Everyone's so happy here. I don't remember everyone being this happy all at the same time. You have a beautiful smile, you know that?" It made me smile just looking at it. I decided to keep going. There were so many pictures to sift through, over a year's worth. There were pictures from what seemed like every situation in life. From dropping Henry off at the bus to fancy dinners at the one nice restaurant in town. There were four whole pages dedicated to our wedding pictures. Most of them I'd already seen strewn around my house. Although, I was tickled by a picture of Emma and I sticking our tounges out at each other with frosting on our noses. The traces left on our fingers was evidence of our guilt.

I laughed audibly at the series of pictures of us baking cookies in my kitchen. The first picture was very clean and homely, like an add for kitchen appliances. The next pixture, in comparison, was chaos. I was covering my face in defense as Emma, laughing, was about to throw flour at me. We were both already covered in flour handprints, some of them in some interesting places. Another picture showed me with the upper hand, flour in both hands and aiming at Emma, who was turning to run. Henry was hiding behind the island, a handful of flour in his hand and a mischevious smile on his face. "Oh my God, Emma, listen to this one: Baking with the family at Regina's place. When the cookies go in the oven, the war begins.

"That's probably the most accurate caption I've read yet!" Suddenly my smile fell. I closed the scrapbook and turned to gaze at Emma's peaceful face. "It's not working, Emma. I can't remember, Emma. I can't remember any of this. No matter what I do, I can't break past this wall. And just look at me...every picture I'm so happy. Who's this happy all the time? I can't remember ever being this happy. How could I have ever been this happy? How could I have forgotten this?" I was on the verge of tears, but I forced them back before they could fall. I sighed. "Henry and Mary Margaret keep telling me to have hope, but I don't know how much longer I can hope, when I don't know what I'm hoping for! I can't seem to get anywhere, nothing is changing, except now I feel like I know less and less about my live, my son, and myself every day. It's driving me crazy!" I lowered my head sadly. "I wish I did remember, though," I said in a low voice. "I wish that I knew who you were. I mean, look at us together. The looks we give each other in these pictures...I'd give anything for someone to look at me like that." I sighed agian. "Oh, well. I guess I'll just have to keep on trying. Thank you, by the way. I know you don't really have a choice, but I just needed to tell someone what I'm going through. So thank you." Then I stood, leaned down, and kissed Emma's soft, pink lips.

Suddenly, behind my closed lids, I saw light coming from everywhere. Then a picture slowly began to form: There was a fuzzy image of what seemed to be my ceiling fan. I was laying on my bed at home, with early-morning sunlight streaming through my window. The view turned so that I was looking at the other side, where there was someone laying with their back to me. I could see a fuzzy yellow shape on the pillow opposite mine. The picture sharpened just a fraction, but it was enough to see the blonde curls cascading down her back and spilling in a pool on the sheets. My hand reached out to stroke the woman's silky hair. Her shoulders moved slightly and I felt her head leaning into my touch. "Good morning, Regina," I heard the sleepy voice say. Her voice sounded throaty, which was normal for someone who'd just woken up. It was actually pleasant to listen to. Then the figure started to turn over to face me, but I couldn't make out her face...

Suddenly, I was back, staring wide eyed at Emma's sleeping face. What was that? Was that a memeory? I was certain that the woman in my vision was Emma. But how had I remembered? Unless...

I studied Emma's sleeping figure, looking for something: a movement, a twitch, anything. But there was no sign of her being any more awake than she was before: not even the petals of today's flower rustled in her hands. My shoulders drooped in disappointment. For just a moment, I'd hoped. But something had clearly happened here, something was changing. Perhaps there was hope after all...but would it be enough?