The atmosphere in the town hall's conference room was tense. The sunlight filtering through the tall windows belied the weight of the discussion at hand. Regina sat at the head of the table, her expression sharp but guarded. Snow White and David sat to her left, their hands clasped together for reassurance. Across from them stood Mother Superior, her serene expression betraying no emotion, while Mr. Gold leaned casually against the far wall, his ever-present smirk a reminder of his enigmatic role in everything that had transpired.

"We're here to unravel this," Regina began, her voice low and controlled. "I want to know how we went from Emma—" She faltered slightly but quickly recovered. "—to Emmett. And don't tell me it was an accident."

Mother Superior stepped forward, her voice calm. "It wasn't an accident, Regina. But neither was it malicious. What happened began long before any of us could foresee the consequences."

Regina arched a brow. "Then enlighten us. Start with the potion."

Mother Superior folded her hands in front of her. "It began with the magical tree Geppetto used to craft the wardrobe. The tree's magic was unique—it could bridge realms and provide sanctuary from the darkest of curses. After the wardrobe was completed, there were remnants of the tree left behind. Knowing how powerful they were, I gathered those remnants and distilled their essence into a potion."

Regina's eyes narrowed. "So you just had a potion lying around?"

Mother Superior shook her head. "No. I crafted it specifically to protect Emma. At the time, the Dark Curse was a looming threat. Snow and Charming were desperate for a way to save their child. The wardrobe could only carry one person, and we couldn't be sure Emma would make it in time. The potion was a failsafe—a way to shield her from the curse and ensure her safety in the Land Without Magic."

Snow White spoke softly, her voice tinged with regret. "I was the one who gave it to her. Mother Superior mixed it with milk, and I fed it to Emma when she was a baby. I didn't know what else to do. I was trying to save her."

Regina's lip curled in disdain. "And you didn't think for a moment that giving your newborn a magical potion might have... unforeseen consequences?"

David bristled. "Regina, that's enough. Snow did what she thought was best to save our daughter."

"Oh, I see," Regina shot back. "And what she thought was best just happened to create a new person entirely?"

Regina's eyes flashed with anger. "And look where your heroism got us. Emma fractured into two people—one of whom doesn't even know who hhe truly is."

"That wasn't the intention!" Snow shot back, her voice trembling. "I didn't know this would happen!"

"Didn't you?" Regina leaned forward, her voice rising. "You gave a newborn a magical potion crafted from a tree that bridges realms, and you didn't consider the potential side effects?"

David intervened, his tone firm. "Regina, Snow was trying to save her child. We all were. If you were in her position, you would've done the same."

Regina's eyes narrowed. "Don't presume to know what I would've done."

Mother Superior raised a hand, her tone placating. "The potion's magic wasn't designed to fracture Emma's identity. It was designed to protect her. But magic is unpredictable, especially when it's tied to a person's essence."

Regina crossed her arms. "So you're saying Emmett exists because of this potion?"

Mother Superior nodded. "The potion shielded Emma from the curse, but in doing so, it created a fragment of her—a version of herself that could adapt to the Land Without Magic. Emmett wasn't born of malice. He was an unintended consequence of magic doing what it was designed to do: protect."

Gold cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Now, now," he said, his tone mockingly conciliatory. "Let's not tear each other apart. After all, we're here to solve a mystery, not assign blame."

Regina glared at him. "If you know something, Gold, now would be the time to share."

Gold's smirk deepened. "Oh, I know many things. But first, let's finish the story, shall we?"

Mother Superior resumed, her tone placating. "When the curse struck, the potion activated. It shielded Emma from its effects and transported her to the Land Without Magic. But magic has layers, Regina. It's not always predictable."

"And what does that mean for Emmett?" Regina demanded.

Mother Superior hesitated. "The potion's magic was tied to Emma's identity. It protected her, but it also fractured her essence. Emmett wasn't born of malice—he was the unintended result of powerful, layered magic."

Snow's voice broke. "I never wanted this. I just wanted to save her."

Regina's expression softened slightly, but her voice remained sharp. "Wanting to save her doesn't excuse the consequences."

Gold chuckled. "Oh, but the consequences are fascinating, aren't they? A fragmented identity. A new person, yet the same. Quite the paradox."

The room fell silent as the weight of Mother Superior's words sank in. Regina leaned back in her chair, her expression conflicted. Snow looked down at her hands, guilt etched into her features.

"This was all part of Cora's plan," Regina said finally, her voice bitter. "She must have known about the first potion's magic and used it to craft the second potion Emmett drank. She took what was already fractured and broke it completely."

Gold chuckled softly, drawing all eyes to him. "Brilliant, isn't it? A plan layered with contingencies. Cora always did have a flair for theatrics."

Regina's glare could have burned a hole through him. "You knew."

Gold tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Not everything, dearie. But I knew enough to see how it would play out."

Meanwhile, the waters off Storybrooke's harbor churned as Hook's ship glided silently into view. The deck creaked under the weight of years at sea, and the ship's tattered sails flapped in the breeze. Morwenna stood at the prow, her dark gaze fixed on the town ahead.

"We're here," Hook said, his voice gruff. "And now, we part ways."

Morwenna smirked, her lips curling into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, Captain, you don't think I'm letting you go that easily, do you?"

Hook turned to her, his jaw tightening. "I have no need for your schemes. Storybrooke has magic now, and I don't need you to defeat Rumplestiltskin."

"Don't be so sure," Morwenna replied smoothly. "Magic in this realm is... unpredictable. Without my help, you'll fail. And you know it."

Hook growled low in his throat but said nothing as Morwenna waved her hand, cloaking the ship in invisibility. With another gesture, she turned a nearby harbor worker who had spotted them into a flopping fish.

Granny's Diner buzzed with the cheerful hum of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the smell of freshly baked pies. The entire town seemed to have turned up for the "welcome home" party in honor of Mary Margaret and Emmett. Snow had insisted on the gathering, despite Emmett's evident reluctance.

Snow, as usual, flitted around the room, greeting guests with her signature warmth. Emmett, meanwhile, sat at a corner table with Henry, doing his best to stay out of the spotlight. Every now and then, he would glance toward the door, his jaw tightening each time it opened.

And then she arrived.

Regina stepped into the diner, her posture rigid and her chin held high. She was dressed simply but elegantly, her dark coat draped over her shoulders. Snow White greeted her warmly, but Regina's attention was focused elsewhere—on Emmett. His eyes met hers, sharp and cold.

"You shouldn't be here," Emmett said as he approached her, his voice low but cutting.

Regina tilted her head slightly, her expression neutral. "I'm here because Snow asked me to be."

"Henry isn't my son," Emmett snapped, reminding her, his tone rising enough to draw a few glances from nearby guests.

The words landed like a physical blow, but Regina refused to let her composure falter. "He's ours," she replied evenly, her voice calm but laced with quiet pain. "Whether you want to admit it or not."

Emmett's face darkened. "I don't know who you think you're fooling, but Henry is your son. Not yours. And this party isn't for you."

Regina's lips pressed into a thin line as she fought to maintain control. "I'm not here for myself, Emmett. I'm here for Henry—and for you, whether you believe it or not."

The tension between them crackled, drawing more curious looks from the crowd. Snow White quickly stepped in, placing herself between the two.

"Both of you, stop," Snow said firmly, her tone that of a mother scolding unruly children. "This is supposed to be a celebration, not a battleground."

Emmett scoffed and turned away, retreating to the corner of the room where Henry was sitting. Regina stayed where she was, her composure cracking just enough for Snow to notice.

"I'm sorry," Snow said softly, placing a gentle hand on Regina's arm. "He's... adjusting."

Regina gave a tight smile, her eyes betraying the sting of Emmett's words. "I didn't expect this to be easy, Snow. But that doesn't make it hurt any less."

Snow hesitated before speaking again. "He'll come around. He just needs time to figure things out. He's... confused."

"Confused?" Regina echoed, her tone sharper now. "Confused is one thing. This—this is outright denial and on top of that he does not remember. He doesn't even see me as part of his life, let alone his family."

Snow's gaze softened. "You're trying, Regina. That matters."

"Does it?" Regina asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because from where I'm standing, it feels like I'm losing him all over again."

Granny's Diner buzzed with the cheerful hum of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the smell of freshly baked pies. The entire town seemed to have turned up for the "welcome home" party in honor of Mary Margaret and Emmett. Snow had insisted on the gathering, despite Emmett's evident reluctance.

Snow, as usual, flitted around the room, greeting guests with her signature warmth. Emmett, meanwhile, sat at a corner table with Henry, doing his best to stay out of the spotlight. Every now and then, he would glance toward the door, his jaw tightening each time it opened.

And then she arrived.

Regina stepped into the diner, her posture rigid and her chin held high. She was dressed simply but elegantly, her dark coat draped over her shoulders. Snow White greeted her warmly, but Regina's attention was focused elsewhere—on Emmett. His eyes met hers, sharp and cold.

"You shouldn't be here," Emmett said as he approached her, his voice low but cutting.

Regina tilted her head slightly, her expression neutral. "I'm here because Henry is my son. And because Snow asked me to be."

"Henry isn't your son," Emmett snapped, his tone rising enough to draw a few glances from nearby guests.

The words landed like a physical blow, but Regina refused to let her composure falter. "He's ours," she replied evenly, her voice calm but laced with quiet pain. "Whether you want to admit it or not."

Emmett's face darkened. "I don't know who you think you're fooling, but Henry is my son. Not yours. And this party isn't for you."

Regina's lips pressed into a thin line as she fought to maintain control. "I'm not here for myself, Emmett. I'm here for Henry—and for you, whether you believe it or not."

The tension between them crackled, drawing more curious looks from the crowd. Snow White quickly stepped in, placing herself between the two.

"Both of you, stop," Snow said firmly, her tone that of a mother scolding unruly children. "This is supposed to be a celebration, not a battleground."

Emmett scoffed and turned away, retreating to the corner of the room where Henry was sitting. Regina stayed where she was, her composure cracking just enough for Snow to notice.

"I'm sorry," Snow said softly, placing a gentle hand on Regina's arm. "He's... adjusting."

Regina gave a tight smile, her eyes betraying the sting of Emmett's words. "I didn't expect this to be easy, Snow. But that doesn't make it hurt any less."

Snow hesitated before speaking again. "He'll come around. He just needs time to figure things out. He's... confused."

"Confused?" Regina echoed, her tone sharper now. "Confused is one thing. This—this is outright denial. He doesn't even see me as part of Henry's life, let alone his family."

Snow's gaze softened. "You're trying, Regina. That matters."

"Does it?" Regina asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because from where I'm standing, it feels like I'm losing him all over again."

Regina stayed for as long as she could endure the awkward stares and the whispered conversations. She tried to engage with a few guests, but her focus always drifted back to Emmett, who seemed intent on avoiding her entirely.

Later that evening, as the party began to wind down, Regina stood by the door, ready to leave. Emmett intercepted her, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not trying to make this harder for you," Regina said before he could speak. "But Henry deserves to have both of us in his life."

Emmett's jaw clenched. "He already has you. That's enough."

"No, it's not," Regina replied, her voice firm but quiet. "You may not see it now, but someday you'll understand. Henry needs both his parents."

"Parents?" Emmett scoffed. "You mean me and someone I don't even know?" Emmett became angered a little more, "we have never been together, Regina."

The jab struck Regina deeply, but she refused to let him see her falter. "I'm not asking you to trust me, Emmett. I'm asking you to think about what's best for Henry."

With that, she turned and walked out of the diner, leaving Emmett standing alone in the doorway.

From a rooftop overlooking the diner, Morwenna and Hook watched the party unfold. Morwenna's dark eyes locked on Regina as she left the diner early, her head held high despite her obvious discomfort.

"She's not broken yet," Morwenna murmured. "But she will be."

Hook crossed his arms. "You have a lot of faith in your schemes."

Morwenna smiled faintly. "Faith has nothing to do with it."

The next morning, Regina stormed into Dr. Hopper's office, her face flushed with anger. "What did you say to Emmett?" she demanded.

Dr. Hopper frowned, clearly confused. "I didn't say anything. I would never breach confidentiality."

"Then what is he thinking?" Regina snapped.

"Regina," Dr. Hopper said gently, "he's trying to change. It's not going to happen overnight. But you can't let this make you lose faith in yourself and him too."

Ruby, passing by, overheard the exchange and made a mental note of Regina's turmoil.

The dim light of Dr. Hopper's office glowed faintly as the figure of Regina loomed over the therapist's desk. Her face was calm but devoid of emotion as she stared at him. Jiminy Cricket, now fully human, regarded her with a mixture of concern and fear.

"Regina," he began, his voice soft but steady. "You're not thinking clearly. You've come so far. Don't let—"

He didn't finish. Regina's hand shot out, dark magic swirling around her fingers as it wrapped around his throat. His breath caught, and his eyes widened in shock.

But this wasn't Regina.

From the shadows, a smirk curled on Morwenna's lips as her disguise melted away, revealing her true self. With a wave of her hand, she cast a spell that immobilized Dr. Hopper, leaving him frozen but very much alive.

"I'll admit," she said to his still form, "this is quite satisfying. You'll make the perfect pawn."

She turned to a small wooden chest hidden in the corner of the office. Opening it, she retrieved a lifelike magical mannequin—crafted from enchanted wood and enchanted to mimic life. Morwenna's magic surged through her, and moments later, an exact replica of Dr. Hopper lay lifeless on the floor.

"Not bad," she muttered, appraising her work.

With a snap of her fingers, she vanished with the real Dr. Hopper, leaving behind the scene of an apparent murder. She transported him to a hidden chamber beneath the docks where Hook's ship was moored, binding him with thick ropes and magical restraints.

"Now, stay quiet," Morwenna murmured as she sealed the chamber. "We wouldn't want anyone to suspect the truth just yet."

That night, the streets of Storybrooke were cloaked in an uneasy silence, the kind that whispered of secrets lurking in the shadows. Inside her mansion, Regina stood in her home office, staring out of the window. The soft glow of the town's streetlights illuminated her face, but the shadows under her eyes betrayed the exhaustion she felt.

In the room next door, Henry was fast asleep, his breathing slow and steady. Regina had checked on him twice already, unable to shake the memory of his words earlier that day—or Emmett's coldness at the party.

Her fingers absently traced the edge of the desk as her thoughts churned. She didn't know how to approach Emmett anymore. He was so different from the person she remembered, yet fragments of Emma still surfaced in his mannerisms, his stubbornness, his fierce protectiveness of Henry.

Was she supposed to treat him as a new person entirely? Someone with no connection to the Emma she once knew? Or was he still Emma in some way—a fragmented version of her who had simply lost her way?

Her heart ached with uncertainty. The connection they had shared, no matter how complicated, was now a void. Emmett didn't trust her, didn't even believe that Henry was her son. How could they rebuild anything when the foundation of their relationship had been shattered?

"I don't know what to do," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. The weight of her emotions threatened to consume her, but she straightened her shoulders, determined not to let it show—not even in the solitude of her home. Somewhere in the depths of Storybrooke, danger was brewing. And though she couldn't yet see it, she could feel it—a storm gathering on the horizon.