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Present Day – Regina's POV
Regina lurched forward in the seat as she slammed the brakes on her car. She threw the door open and leapt from the Mercedes, not caring that her car was slanted over two spaces.
She rushed through the door of the quaint diner and was only vaguely aware of the bell tinkling above her head. In the back of the diner, a box-dyed blonde head with graying roots snapped up, noticing the new customer. She tucked her book of crosswords back into her apron and rose to make her way to the waiting brunette.
"For one?" she asked Regina. "Booth or table?"
Regina's eyes, which had been scanning the half-empty diner, found the hostess' annoyed ones. Not seeing Emma, Regina blinked and shook her head a little.
"What?" Regina said. Her eyes glazed over the woman's nametag. Roxanne. "No, I'm here looking for my daughter. She ran away this morning." Regina pulled a polaroid from her purse, fighting to keep the tremor from her voice, and turned it so the hostess could see. It was her favorite picture of Emma, of her laughing in front of the docks at Storybrooke harbor.
Roxanne's irritated expression softened a bit as she leaned over to inspect the photo. She brought her gaze back to Regina's and was struck by the thinly veiled panic in the poor woman's eyes.
"She was in here," the hostess confirmed, and Regina felt her heart soaring. Her eyes darted around, searching for the familiar golden mane.
The hostess noticed the false hope she had accidentally instilled in Regina and quickly amended her statement. "She left a few hours ago," she added hastily. "I think Maisie served her. She's on break right now, but I'm sure she'd be willing to come talk to you."
Roxanne wasn't partial to caring about other people's feelings, but she hated watching the poor woman's face crumple, an outward showing of the tumult she must be feeling in her heart. Roxanne signaled to one of the waiters and placed a hesitant hand on the distraught woman's back.
"Have a seat, doll, we'll get you some coffee on the house," Roxanne said as she guided Regina to the nearest booth and upturned a waiting coffee cup. She could feel the woman trembling under her fingertips with churning grief and terror.
The dark-haired woman nodded appreciatively, her head bobbing up and down as if the effort of doing so felt herculean. She sniffled loudly. Roxanne turned and headed for the backroom to find Maisie, tilting her head in recognition as she passed Jonas on his way to fill up her coffee cup.
Present Day — Emma's POV
It had taken a few bus transfers and several questions to the poor drivers just trying to go about their routes, but Emma was finally in line at the Greyhound station to buy a one-way ticket to New York City. She bounced eagerly on the balls of her feet. This was her first time out of Storybrooke, and though the circumstances were less than stellar, she was looking forward to exploring the big city.
She shook her head quickly then, clearing her mind of that thought. She didn't have time, or money, for fun. Her focus needed to be on finding her birthmother. If she spent all her resources being a tourist, then what was the point of leaving Regina in the dust?
The line inched slowly forward. She sighed and stood on her tiptoes, craning her neck to get a better view of what was going on at the front. A middle-aged, balding man was engaged with what seemed to be an intense conversation with the ticketer. He gesticulated wildly, but the attendant seemed to only respond to his entreaties with resolute head shakes. Finally, the balding man threw his hands up in the air and walked away from the booth.
A clicking sound drew her attention, and Emma's eyes flew to the train schedule above the ticket counter.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Emma breathed when she saw the source of the noise. A woman in front of her exhaled an exasperated sigh and ducked out under the ropes.
Sold out. Her ride out of here was full, and the next bus to New York wasn't for three hours. She didn't have that kind of time to spend waiting. She knew Regina was on her tail; she could feel it, and if her mother caught up to her, she would never see the outside of Storybrooke again. She would probably never even see the outside of her bedroom again.
She didn't know what to do. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. Should she risk it and try for the later bus? Should she give up and go home?
The line continued moving as she considered her options. Before she knew it, she found herself in front of the attendant. He blinked at her expectantly.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, startled, when she realized she had reached the front of the line. The attendant stared back at her, unperturbed. She glanced back up at the Sold out sign.
"Are you sure there aren't any more seats left on that bus to New York?" she asked him hopefully.
He shook his head at her slowly.
Her eyes roved over the board, readying herself to admit that she couldn't do this. It was time to go home; this had been a terrible idea.
Just as she opened her mouth to let the words spill past her lips, her focus landed on the top right of the board. She didn't know why, but the location called to her. She knew nothing about the city, but for some reason, it felt right to her. She pulled a fifty-dollar-bill from her pocket and pushed it through the plastic divider.
"One-way ticket to Portland, please," she told the attendant.
Present Day – Regina's POV
Maisie cast her eyes downward.
"I'm sorry," she apologized to Regina. "She seemed upset, but I assumed she was just having a normal teenaged bad day. If I had known she was running away I would have called someone." Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
Regina toyed with the paper doily under her coffee mug. "I believe you," she said, the despondency evident in her voice. "Did she happen to mention where she was going? Or give any indication?"
Maisie sighed at the desperate hope she could hear creeping into the woman's tone. The woman — Regina, she had introduced herself — had sat up straighter when she asked the questions, as if the prospect of Maisie's answers were inflating her.
Maisie shook her head regretfully. "Only that she was looking for a bus stop," she answered sadly. "Beyond that, I'm not sure. I pointed her to the one across the street. I can't be sure, but I think she got on a few hours ago."
"Where does the bus go?" Regina's dark eyes bored into Maisie.
"It just circles around town, for the most part," Maisie replied, "but you can pick up other lines at certain stops."
Regina deflated back into her chair, sighing. Her breath lifted the strands of hair away from her face. "So, she could go anywhere," Regina stated.
Maisie shrugged wordlessly. She hated having to be the one to deliver bad news. This conversation was making her feel like a horrible human being.
"I suppose I should get started, then." Regina placed both palms flat on the table and rose slowly from the seat.
"I'm sorry I wasn't more help," Maisie tried. "And I'm sorry for not realizing what was going on — it should have been more obvious, in retrospect."
Regina held up a hand to stop her apology. "No," she said, "it's not your fault. I appreciate what you've done for me."
Maisie watched the lost woman take a final sweep of the diner, as if the teenager had materialized in the time the two women had spent talking. Failing to find her, the woman turned slowly and made her way to the exit.
"Wait," Maisie called for her. The woman stilled, her back still to Maisie.
Maisie reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a small wad of bills. She held it out to the other woman. "Here," she said. "Your daughter gave this to me. I don't feel right keeping it."
Having turned her head to see what Maisie was offering, Regina waved away the money. "Keep it. It seems my daughter was rather generous with you, which means you made her feel safe. Thank you." A tight smile graced her face.
Maisie nodded and wordlessly tucked the cash back into her apron. "Of course," she replied. "I hope you find her."
Regina turned her blank gaze back to the door. "Me too," she said before exiting the diner.