After the last time I saw Killian, I began seeing his car follow me around.

My paranoia is normally far from calm at late hours. At first, I brushed it off, finding it ridiculous anyone would follow me.

But that was only the beginning.

The next seven days, the same car passed the diner the exact time I clocked in to the moment I walked out.

Black SUV. Polished to the touch. Tinted windows. No license plate.

I stopped heading home through my usual shortcuts.

I have very few experiences on what to do in these situations when it comes to stalkers. Well, this is rare case where I am the victim for once.

The minute I walk out the door, my weapon of choice is my good old pepper spray in the inside of my pants and my three-year-old sketcher sneakers.

I will lose at a fight. But I will conquer at a race.

My performance was going up and down between shifts. Every chance I get, my eyes go straight to that open window. A few times, I swear I saw the same SUV pass by, sometimes lingering for a moment too long before driving by.

I started to get less tips and more well-deserved attitude from diners. Granny started to bring me in to the kitchen to help with food prep. The transition gave me the ultimate relief. I was finally able to focus.

After another day of a long shift, I savored every minute before my shift ended. I threw on my hoodie and draped the hood low to shadow my face, tucking my hair deep inside to hide it from sight.

I stepped out the back, heading all the way down the alley until I reached the street.

I bowed my head low and began my long way home.

From the corner of my eye, I was mindful of each car that passed. But to my relief, the SUV was nowhere in sight. I still held my breath.

Almost there…

I counted each block.

My back is drenched in sweat. The belt around my waist was so tight it was indenting deep to my skin. The long walks on top of my crazy shifts have been making my clothes too big to wear. I have been drilling holes in my belt to keep my pants from falling.

I walked even faster as I neared home. Nothing would give me any sense of safety than being showered and curled up in bed with multiple locks on my trusted door.

I gazed straight ahead at my apartment with a wide smile.

Home, at last.

"So, this is the gutter you come from," a voice spoke from behind me.

I froze in place. I turned around.

Even without looking, I can just taste the familiarity of that voice. That annoying, ungrateful voice.

The Spoiled-Pinocchio-Brat Peter stood only inches away from me. He looked more nervous than when I caught my Henry perform an explosive science project in our only bathroom.

"..How did you even get an invite to a place like that?"

The same rage I felt that night he harassed Ruby is all coming back to me. But now mixing with the violation of invading my own privacy transformed me into a monster he is not ready for.

"I could say the same about you, kid. Who the fuck are you?"

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

"I was an invited guest, unlike you. You clearly snuck in."

I stepped forward. It gave me the smallest satisfaction when he took a step back.

"Why did you follow me, kid?"

"I asked you a question first. Answer that."

"I went there with someone who was also invited. Honestly, you need to go the fuck home if you were butt-hurt someone like me dared trespass such a place. You have some time in your hands to stalk a complete stranger. Get help!"

I spun around to take my leave. But he grabs me by the arm.

"How much?" he asked.

"What?"

He lets me go and opens his wallet, fishing out a couple bills.

My stomach dropped. I cannot bare to look at him anymore.

"If I had known you had a price to open those legs, I would have behaved much differently the first time we met."

I can see his shadow play out on the ground. He stretches his arm out, presenting a clutch of handful of bills on top of his palm.

I was barely healing from my recent experience when Miss Satan herself thought I was some whore on the clock. Coming straight out of the mouth from who is practically still a child is the end of me.

I tightly grabbed his wrist and ripped his hand off me. I tossed his hand back down.

"I don't do that," I hissed back at him.

I turn around and continued to walk away.

My reaction gave him an odd amount of confidence. He began to walk alongside me.

"No woman just magically ends up with Killian Jones. A whore is the only explanation how you managed to have your precious one night with the man."

I started counting my steps, keeping my gaze straight forward at my apartment building. It is the perfect distraction to keep myself from beating the living life out of this child.

"Admit it," he taunts me, stroking my cheek. "You know exactly who you are. There is really no shame in it. Just embrace it. Everyone like you just has a price."

His hand claimed one of my arms.

"Leave me alone," I hissed.

I was ready to make a break for it. But Grumpy appears out of the darkness with a bottle of beer in one hand and a loaded gun in the other.

Both Peter and I stopped in our tracks.

Grumpy squints from the dim street light. He scratches his head with the point of his gun.

My grip tightens on my bottle of pepper spray. I could only guess the bottle in his hand is not his first.

"This should be the last place for you to bring your 'special' clients. You have a kid for fuck sakes," he slurred.

His lips are ruby red. His head slightly bobs to one side as if it is too heavy for him to keep it up. He eyes both me and Peter with the shake of his head.

Peter breaks out into a laugh. He clapped his hands together in glee.

"I knew it. You are such a liar."

Grumpy turns his focus completely at Peter. He throws his bottle at him. It misses, landing only inches away from Peter feet.

"You get the hell outta here! I don't tolerate sickos like you! Unnatural fucks like you are sick! Just sick! Get out!"

Peter raises his hand up. His other hand is still left unmoved on my arm.

"I don't mean no trouble sir. This isn't what it looks like. Really."

I nudged his hand off me.

"You're drunk again. Put the gun down before someone calls the police," I say with firmness.

But I know I am wasting my breath.

Grumpy cocks the gun and examines the weapon carefully in his hand before raising both his mad eyes and his gun directly at us.

"I don't allow your sick business in my building," he slurs back at me. "This is real low. You know? You lost yourself completely."

My mind is more alert to move then remember to breathe. The gun goes off. I grab Peter by his shirt and jump to the opposite direction. We land straight to the ground. The bullet missed but grazed the top of my right hand.

I roll to my back and tend to my wound. The blood is oozing out instantly from the deep cut.

"Fuck!" I shout.

Peter is more anxious than ever. He does not seem to know what to do, forgetting all common sense. I look to him and back at Grumpy who is inching closer to us.

"Run, kid! Just run!" I screamed in the top of my lungs.

Peter scrambles to his feet and run like the wind.

I block the blood from spilling with my hand. Tears pool my eyes.

Tonight might really just be my last.

Aside from my Henry, I am strangely more afraid of it all ending because of this man. Out of every obstacle and unfortunate event, I may have to accept mine will be over because of him.

I feel an odd chill in my body. My shirt is wet with my own blood.

I take a deep breath. It might as well be my last. And I sit up straight to once again face Grumpy.

Grumpy is five steps away from me. The gun is still in his hand. But he is no longer pointing it at me. He looks at me and laughs like a maniac.

I slowly realize why he is no longer threatening me.

Henry is right behind him, pointing a knife straight at his back.

"Henry! Don't do it!" I shout.

The pain no longer mattered. I stumble back to my feet. But I remained in place. I am torn to collect my son and run far far away from here, but it is at the risk we are both now in danger with a mad man with a loaded gun.

Henry holds the knife with both his hands, keeping the blade steady at his back.

"You leave my mom alone. Or else I will hurt you."

Grumpy laughs again.

"Can't you see your mom is just fine. I was only protecting her from her own recklessness. I can't have you in danger with the 'suspicious' guests she invites over."

"Enough," I say. "There is probably more than one witness who heard the gunshot. Let's all just walk away if you don't want things to get messy."

Henry holds the knife firmly, never daring to drop his arm. I walk ahead inside the building as he walks backwards. He watches with unblinking eyes at Grumpy until we enter.

Henry was white to the skin when we arrived home.

I was losing too much blood by the second.

I had a handful of incidents where any medical attention was strictly DIY.

With the little energy I have left, I scanned through the room to collect the necessities: half-filled bottle of wine, Tylenol, lighter and a needle kit.

"Why are we still here? You have to go to the hospital right now," Henry pleaded.

I could not bear to look at him in the eye. I was losing the grip of my anxiety. I needed complete focus to what I can fix – my wound.

"Get the first aid, Henry."

He quickly opened the first aid kit box and removed all the gauze we have left. He held it over my wound and pressed it tight with his hand. As I feared, the blood was bleeding through.

I gathered my supplies in the opening of my shirt and rush to the bathroom. Henry tries to follow me but I lock the door behind me.

"Henry, I am going to be okay! Just call Aunt Ruby for me! Okay! Tell her we can't stay here! Not tonight."

I forced down a couple Tylenol with a large swig of wine.

Henry bangs on the door with his hands. I could hear him start to cry.

"Please, mom. Don't lock the door."

"I'm going to be okay! Call Aunt Ruby right now! Right now, Henry!"

I collapsed to the floor of my bathroom. My body feels weaker and colder by the second.

The last time I did this Neal let me bite into his shirt from the pain. It felt like an eternity until I was finished stitching myself.

But the number of times I have done my little treatments were no longer giving me confidence I was going to be able to do this.

I opened the needle kit and pull out a needle tucked in a tube of thread. A piece of thread is already in the loop. I tie it in a knot.

I have the smallest hopes in a few minutes the bleeding will stop.

I held the gauze steady while also igniting the lighter at the same time, burning the end of a needle.

I threw back a couple more gulps of the wine. I pulled the collar of my shirt in between my teeth and bite through it hard.

I made the first incision between the open wound. The pain was agonizing. My hand began to shake as I slowly pulled for the thread to go through.


~ I finally opened the door. I do not even know how long I was in there.

I no longer can stand on my feet. I knelt down to my knees and weakly looked up to Ruby passing the threshold.

Henry threw his arms around Ruby with tears running down his eyes. Ruby takes in the room, gently stroking his back in circles. She lowers her lips to the crown of his head.

"Henry, I need you to pack all your clothes and your homework right now. Pack everything you need for school. And do it fast. I'm taking you home with me."

Henry nodded. He released her and hurriedly began to look for his things.

Ruby calmly approached me. I can see the look of panic in her eyes held by a thread.

"This is it, Emma. Okay? You are never coming back here. For once, you have to do everything I say."

I only nodded.


~ Granny and Ruby opened their home since the night I got shot.

Ruby nursed me to health in her bedroom. If it were not for us, this is the most time she remained home with Granny.

For the first two days, I was forced bedridden. Ruby and Granny took turns looking after Henry, going as far to taking him to school and preparing his meals.

Henry refused to sleep without me lying next to him.

I cannot process how to approach to my own child of what happened between him and Grumpy. I feel so behind on parenting him on my own. The psychology of what to say to your child of almost killing another human being is far from my ability.

Time could not go by any slower. It was too difficult to rest and do nothing. With my mind awake, I had too much time to think about things against my control. I look forward to sleep. There truly not be enough rest a human body get each passing day.

By the third day, I forcefully tapped out from bedridden time by taking Henry to school myself. He was awfully careful not to touch me, not even my hand.

Ruby has been changing my bandages daily. I hate to look at it. I put a fingerless glove over it to avoid looking at it.

It almost felt normal to follow back on my normal routine. Henry did not turn away from my kiss before he stepped on the bus. I gave him a long one on the temple. He avoided eye contact from me and climbed on the bus without another word.

I stayed until the bus left.


~ Granny still forbade me to trespass both the motel and the diner. But I did not want to go back to bed.

The least I can do is surprise Henry a book to get his mind off things.

I headed to Once Upon a Time. I threw on my hood and watched my back every minute, especially if a dark car happen to pass by.

Two elderly men sat together to play a game of cards. Both of them are adorably overdressed in turtlenecks and homemade beanies. Their tiny table is parked outside an electronic store.

One exhaled a long drag of his cigar the smoke hit the display window, featuring the latest television set on sale. It played the local news to show the HD features of the picture.

A still picture appeared on the screen.

I stopped.

The picture is a headshot of Peter in a button-down suit looking like the sour-puss he is.

The picture changes to a recent footage of him exiting a building. A swarm of reporters crowded around him, bombarding him with mountain of questions. Two bodyguards stand between Peter to protect him as they move along.

I hear no audio. But the headline of the reported news circle underneath the screen in a shape of a ribbon.

The words "embezzlement" and "bankruptcy" appear in all caps.

A sudden pain in my wounded hand stroke through each nerve like lightening. I gripped on to my hand instantly.

I winced at the pain. It feels so gravely sharp, then slowly fade into a tolerable stage.

I looked down at my hand and watched it shake involuntarily.

It would have been me or him. I just wish I didn't try so hard.

I headed further down the street until I reached the bookstore.

A customer exited the store. Within seconds, Belle emerged out, attempting to stop the man with a thick envelope in her hand.

I can only observe him from his back.

He was an older man no more than his 50s. He carried himself well dressed down in a cool navy suit over a long brown coat. His hair was a mix of silver and brown left long enough below his ear lobes. He leaned against his silver cane to support his poor right leg.

"Rumple, I can't accept this much. Please take it back," Belle pleaded.

Rumple took her face and gave her a longing gaze.

"You absolutely can. And I will not take it back."

Her eyes softened. I swear she mimics Ruby's Bambi eyes exactly.

I neared closer and closer to see when Belle will notice me. When she watched longingly at him leave, she finally returned to reality. She nearly jumped when she saw me face her face to face.

Her hand went to her chest.

"Emma! You're ok!"

Belle threw her arms around me. I grimaced from the sudden pressure of my wounded hand closing in from Belle's body. She immediately noticed her error and took a step back.

"Sorry! Did I hurt you?"

I examined my wound. So far, no blood was seeping through the bandages. I nodded to assure Belle. The Bambi eyes were back almost as authentic as she presented to her little boyfriend.

"Granny only told me you were unwell. Are you alright now?"

I nodded once again. My eyes dropped to the envelope in her hand. She followed my gaze and immediately stuffed the envelope in the pocket of her apron.

She took my good hand in both of hers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"You have always been so kind to me. It is only right for me to offer if there is anything, anything at all you need, just please ask. I will happily assist you."

An idea came to me like a switch of a light bulb.

"Actually, there is. I need to move out of my apartment asap. I'll need a extra hand to vacate the place. Can you help out?"

Belle smiled ear to ear and nodded eagerly.

I can only guess this Mr. Rumple is a generous sugar daddy who supplies Belle enough to hand over her shifts without a single worry. I never thought Belle would be the type to get into such a relationship.

But if she wants to learn the hard way, my not so lovely tenants in my building will be perfect examples Belle can witness of what happens when a girl trusts a man of power like that too much. Grumpy is not the only maniac I warn my son to watch out for.

"By the way, I should let you know someone is waiting for you inside."

I arched a brow.

"Who?"

"Your friend who met you here the last time. Jimmy, I think. Strangely, he's been coming here every morning and stay until we close. He always asks me when you would come. I could never give an answer since I barely get to see you either."

Jimmy was the last person I wanted to face. But I felt slightly assured he was still somewhat the same Jimmy I knew. Jimmy from high school would never go past without the guilt of doing anything wrong. Hell, he would turn himself in for taking more than one sample at a grocery store.

Belle and I step inside.

Once again in tweed from head to toe, Jimmy was sitting in the same genre section he found me. He sat on the floor all by himself, quietly reading a book. By the guess of a small tower of other books next to him, I can strongly guess it was not his first book of the day.

When he sensed someone enter, he quickly looked up. He scrambled to his feet once he realized it was me.

I walked away from him. My reaction gave Belle the cue to excuse herself to the back, shutting the door behind her.

I started down the genre of religion.

Sure, I can convert to something today. What do we got today?

Jimmy appeared behind me.

"What are you doing here, Jimmy?"

"I-I'm sorry I never showed up. There is an explanation to my actions. I swear."

As I slowly walk down the aisle, I read each title, my good hand is in reach ready to pick the lucky one that catches my eye.

"Well, then say it already."

From my peripheral vision, I can see Jimmy look between his shoulders to check if we are alone. He draws in a deep breath and lets it out in a long exhale.

"Okay. Here it is," he whispered as softly as he can. "I am currently in charge of a high-profile client I am sworn to secrecy. But I feel obliged to tell you because you are strangely involved."

I stopped in my tracks. I pick a random book from the shelf. Daily Prayer with God by Florence Whitaker. Interesting enough. I flip the pages, barely seeing a single sentence.

It is the only way I can hide my sudden interest how the hell I am involved.

"I have been treating Jefferson Stan due to court mandates. This is 100 percent confidential. You must not disclose this in any form to the public. During our sessions, I recently changed to have Jefferson draw. Every drawing has always been of his wife, until recently, they resembled drawings of you."

My hands almost dropped the book. I shut the book closed and placed it back on the shelf. I raised my gaze at Jimmy. He no longer looked guilty. Instead, he looked anxious that every word he is about to share with me is the worst news of all.

"As it turned out, the drawings were you. He began to share stories of him meeting you, even describing how you looked and how you both interacted. So, I am here to warn you, Emma, you must stay away from him – "

"Do you think he did it?" I blurted out.

Jimmy stopped. He once again nervously looked around him to make sure we are alone.

"By my professional stand point, I strongly believe he is not a dangerous man. But the court can turn things around, making all the effort he made to reunite with his daughter to nothing. All that effort gone because he is caught dead with someone who resembles closely to his wife."

Droplets of sweat glistened on Jimmy's temple. His cheeks flushed hot. Once again, I truly do know this version of Jimmy.

I never felt right about Jefferson. But one thing for sure, I know better of what it is like to legally be torn apart from your own child. I would never want to be the one responsible for causing to any parent.

I only nodded and returned to scan through the books.

"Okay. I'll keep my distance."

Jimmy huffed a couple breaths as if he has been holding it this entire time. He dried his temple and continued to nervously follow behind me.

"Just out of curiosity, how did you end up meeting someone like him?"

"That story is too long to share right now, Jimmy."

"Then, can I suggest we can have lunch some time. I-I deserve if you decide not to show up, of course."

I chuckled to myself. It only made him more anxious.

"Oh I'll show up because you're paying, right?"

"Fair again."