Emma adjusted her red leather jacket as she walked alongside Henry through the quiet streets of Storybrooke. The town had a strange charm—quaint and picturesque, but there was an undercurrent of something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Everyone seemed… stuck, as though they were living in a memory they couldn't escape.

"Alright, kid," Emma said, glancing at Henry, who practically skipped beside her. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Henry said with a mischievous grin.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're not just dragging me on some wild goose chase?"

"Nope." He clutched the thick, leather-bound storybook to his chest. "You'll like it, I promise."

Emma chuckled but kept walking. Despite herself, she enjoyed spending time with him. There was something infectious about his enthusiasm, even if he seemed a little too convinced of things she couldn't wrap her head around.

"So," Emma said, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Tell me about this place. Storybrooke seems... different."

Henry hesitated, glancing around as if worried someone might overhear. "That's because it is different."

Emma smirked. "Oh, this should be good."

Henry stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression serious. "Emma, do you believe in magic?"

"Magic?" Emma let out a short laugh. "Not really. Why?"

"Because Storybrooke isn't just a town. It's cursed." His voice dropped to a near-whisper.

Emma tilted her head, studying him. "Cursed? Like, everyone here is cursed?"

Henry nodded earnestly, opening his storybook. He flipped through the pages and held it up to show her a picture of a castle shrouded in mist. "Everyone here is from another land—the Enchanted Forest. They're all characters from fairy tales, but they don't remember who they are."

Emma stared at the illustration and then at him. "You're telling me that this entire town is full of fairy tale characters?"

"Yes!" Henry's face lit up with excitement. "And you're the one who's supposed to break the curse."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Me? Why me?"

Henry turned the page, revealing an illustration of a determined-looking woman holding a sword. "Because you're the Savior. You're the only one who can break the curse and help everyone remember who they really are."

Emma crossed her arms, skepticism etched into every line of her face. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that? Wave a magic wand or something?"

Henry shook his head. "You just have to believe. That's how magic works."

Emma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, Henry, it's a nice story, but magic isn't real. People don't get cursed, and they definitely don't turn into fairy tale characters."

"But it is real!" Henry insisted, his voice rising slightly. "You've seen how weird this place is. Everyone's acting like they're stuck in time. They don't age. They don't change. Doesn't that seem strange to you?"

Emma hesitated, glancing around. He wasn't entirely wrong—there was something odd about Storybrooke. But magic? Curses? That was a step too far.

"So," Emma said slowly, "if everyone's cursed, does that include Regina?"

Henry frowned, his enthusiasm dimming slightly. "It's complicated. mom's... different."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"

"I don't know yet," Henry admitted. "But she didn't cast the curse. I know that much, but I haven't figured out everything yet."

Emma's skepticism deepened. "Henry, this is starting to sound like a conspiracy theory."

"It's not!" Henry protested. "There's a group like the villains, but there's more to it than that. I just need more time to figure it out. That's why I need your help."

Emma let out a long sigh, shaking her head. "Look, kid, I get that you're trying to make sense of things, but this… this isn't real. It's just a story."

Henry's face fell, and he hugged the book tighter. "It is real. You just don't want to believe it."

Emma crouched down so she was at eye level with him. "Henry, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, okay? But this is a lot to take in, and it doesn't exactly make sense."

"It will," he said quietly, his voice trembling with emotion. "If you just stay and help me, you'll see."

Emma hesitated, the earnestness in his eyes tugging at her heart. "Okay," she said finally. "I'll stay. For now. But I'm not promising anything."

Henry's face lit up again, and he nodded eagerly. "You'll see, Emma. You're the Savior. You're meant to be here."

Emma stood, her emotions a swirl of confusion and unease. She didn't believe any of this magic and curse nonsense, but there was something about Henry's certainty that unsettled her. Maybe it was just the passion of a kid clinging to a wild idea. Or maybe, just maybe, there was more to Storybrooke than she was willing to admit.

As they continued walking, Emma couldn't shake the feeling that the town was watching her, waiting for something. But what?

The Council Room was one of the most imposing places in Storybrooke—a relic of an older time, with dark wooden beams that seemed to reach endlessly toward the ceiling and a massive oval table that could seat more than a dozen. It always smelled faintly of candle wax and cedar, and the walls were lined with shelves of leather-bound books, most of which looked like they hadn't been touched in decades.

Regina entered the room with her usual confidence, her heels clicking sharply against the polished wood floor. Her pack trailed behind her, Ruby at her right and the others fanning out in a semicircle as they waited for instructions. The opposing side of the room, occupied by the Keepers and their loyalists, bristled with quiet authority.

What surprised Regina, though, wasn't the tension between the two groups, the Guardians and the Keepers. It was the unexpected figure seated near the far end of the table.

Emma Swan.

The human looked distinctly out of place, her red leather jacket standing out starkly against the somber tones of the room. She sat stiffly, her eyes darting around as though she couldn't decide if she was supposed to be impressed or terrified. Henry, seated beside her, was fidgeting with his storybook, casting furtive glances at his mother.

"What is she doing here?" Regina's tone was sharp, and her gaze shifted immediately to Graham, who stood near the head of the table, his posture rigid.

"She was invited," Graham replied evenly, his expression carefully neutral. "The Council believes her presence is relevant to our discussions."

"Relevant how?" Regina demanded, her voice laced with irritation. Her magic stirred under her skin, restless and unsettled. She didn't like surprises, and this one set every instinct on edge.

"She's an outsider," one of the Keepers said from across the table, his voice clipped. "And yet she's clearly… significant. Her arrival here cannot be ignored."

Regina's gaze flicked to Henry, who was staring at her with an almost pleading expression. She inhaled deeply, catching Emma's scent—sunlight and something sharper, more electric. It made her stomach tighten and her magic pulse dangerously close to the surface.

"Henry," she said, her tone softer now, though still firm. "Why don't you go get some meal from Granny's? This is not a conversation for you."

"But, Mom—" Henry began, his eyes darting toward Emma.

"Now," Regina said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Henry hesitated for only a moment before sliding out of his chair. He cast one last glance at Emma before hurrying out of the room, his storybook clutched tightly to his chest.

Emma watched him go, her brows knitting together in confusion. "What's going on here?" she asked, her voice breaking the tense silence that followed Henry's departure.

Regina turned her attention back to Emma, her expression unreadable. "That's what I'd like to know. Why are you here?"

Emma opened her mouth to respond, but Graham stepped forward, cutting her off.

"The Council has reason to believe she's connected to the recent… anomalies in Storybrooke," Graham said, his tone measured. "We need to understand what she knows—and what she doesn't."

Regina's eyes narrowed. "And what exactly are these 'anomalies' you're referring to?"

"Unexplained disruptions," one of the Keepers said, his gaze fixed on Emma. "She's not from here, and yet her arrival coincides with certain… irregularities."

Emma frowned, clearly growing more uncomfortable by the second. "Okay, can someone please explain what's going on? Because I feel like I walked into the middle of a really weird episode of The Twilight Zone."

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Ruby shifted beside Regina, her own magic sparking faintly in response to the growing discord.

Regina clenched her fists, forcing herself to remain calm. She couldn't understand why, but the idea of the Council targeting Emma filled her with a fierce protectiveness she hadn't felt in years. It was irrational, unexplainable—and utterly infuriating.

"Emma Swan," Regina said, her voice low and controlled. "You don't belong here. And yet, here you are. Why?"

Emma blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I—I don't know. I just… Henry brought me here."

Regina's eyes narrowed further, "Henry?"

"He found me," Emma said, her voice faltering. "He said I was supposed to help him, but I don't even know what he's talking about."

A murmur rippled through the room, the Keepers exchanging uneasy glances.

Regina's jaw tightened. "And what exactly did my son tell you?"

Emma hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the Keepers before returning to Regina. "He said… he said something about a curse. About everyone here being stuck, not remembering who they are. He thinks I'm supposed to help break it."

The murmurs grew louder, and Regina felt her magic surge dangerously close to the surface. The energy sparked at her fingertips, and her nails bit into the edge of the table as she slammed her hands down. The sharp sound echoed through the room, silencing the growing cacophony.

"That's enough," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Her tone held the weight of authority, one that brooked no argument.

"Regina—" Graham began, but she cut him off with a glare that burned with barely restrained power.

"I said this discussion is over." Her eyes glinted faintly red, a telltale sign of her alpha instincts surfacing. Even the Keepers, with all their arrogance, leaned back slightly in their chairs, discomfort flashing across their faces.

Emma stared at Regina, confusion and unease swirling in her expression. But there was something else there—something deeper, unspoken, that made Regina's chest ache in ways she didn't want to acknowledge.

Without another word, Regina turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Ruby hesitated for a moment, exchanging a brief glance with Graham, before following closely behind her.

The cool night air hit Regina's skin like a balm, but it did little to soothe the storm brewing inside her. She walked toward the edge of the square, her heels clicking sharply against the cobblestones. Ruby caught up with her as they reached the shadow of the clock tower.

"Regina… are you okay?" Ruby's tone was soft, her concern evident.

Regina exhaled sharply, rubbing at her temple. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She clenched her fists, trying to calm the crackling magic that stirred beneath her skin. "Something is… wrong."

Ruby hesitated, her gaze flicking back toward the council hall. "Is it the Keepers? Or…" Her voice trailed off, unsure how to phrase the unspoken question.

Regina shook her head, her jaw tightening. "It's not just them. Something shifted when Emma came here. I don't know what it is, but…" She let out another frustrated breath. "I need to figure it out before they do."

Ruby stepped closer, her hand hovering near Regina's arm but not quite touching. "You're not in this alone, Regina. You've got me, and—"

Before Ruby could finish, a sharp pulse of energy rippled through the air. Regina stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she turned back toward the council hall.

"What now?" she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. Without another word, she started back toward the building, her heels clicking with purpose.

By the time she reentered the council chamber, the tension inside had grown palpable. The Keepers exchanged uneasy glances as Graham stood near the doorway, his face tight with concern. Emma sat awkwardly in her chair, her hands gripping the edge of the table as though she was trying to ground herself.

Regina's eyes flicked toward the Keepers, daring them to speak. But before she could say anything, the sharp edge of her instincts flared. Her pack had felt her turmoil, and though they hadn't been summoned, she could sense them approaching from the edges of the square. Their loyalty was an ever-present comfort, even when unspoken.

Still, she didn't need them here—not yet.

Steeling herself, Regina strode to her place at the table, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She pressed her hands flat against the cool wood, her nails tapping lightly as she surveyed the room.

"Shall we continue?" she asked, her tone icy but measured, daring anyone to challenge her return.

The Keepers stiffened under her scrutiny, their confidence visibly wavering. Whatever they had planned, they were beginning to realize that facing Regina Mills, even without her pack, was no small feat.

"This meeting is over," Regina declared, her voice firm and commanding. "We're wasting time with speculation and paranoia."

One of the Keepers, a man with slicked-back hair and an air of smug superiority, leaned forward. "I disagree, Your Majesty. There's still the matter of her presence." He gestured toward Emma with a disdainful nod.

Regina's jaw tightened. "Emma Swan is irrelevant to this discussion."

"Is she?" The Keeper's voice dripped with condescension. "Her arrival coincides with anomalies we cannot ignore. We deserve answers."

"I decide what this council deserves," Regina snapped, her eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. "And right now, you deserve silence."

Emma blinked, startled by the sharpness of Regina's tone. She opened her mouth to speak, but the Keeper cut her off.

"We're not finished," he said coldly. "There are truths that need to be brought to light. For instance…" His gaze settled on Emma, his lips curling into a sly smile. "Your parents, Miss Swan."

Emma frowned, confusion flickering across her face. "My parents?"

"Yes," the Keeper continued. "Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan. Names that may mean nothing to you now, but I assure you, they are significant."

Regina's heart skipped a beat, though she kept her expression carefully neutral. She glanced at Emma, whose brows knit together in frustration.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Emma said. "I grew up in foster care. I don't have parents."

"Oh, but you do," the Keeper said smoothly. "Mary Margaret and David are not ordinary citizens. David, in particular, works closely with us. He's one of the Keepers' most trusted agents."

Emma's confusion deepened, and she leaned back in her chair as though trying to distance herself from the words. "This is insane."

"Perhaps," the Keeper said. "But it raises a question, doesn't it? How does the daughter of two key figures from the Enchanted Forest end up here, unaware of her heritage? And why now?"

The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation hanging heavily in the air. Regina felt a surge of protectiveness rise within her—an instinct she couldn't fully explain. She took a step closer to Emma, placing herself subtly between the human and the rest of the room.

"Enough," Regina said, her voice low and dangerous. "This is not the time or place for baseless conjecture."

"Baseless?" The Keeper smirked. "You can't deny that her presence is unusual. As far as we know, she's just a human, and yet—"

"And yet you have no proof of anything," Regina interrupted sharply. "All you have are questions and assumptions."

Emma, still reeling from the Keeper's words, glanced at Regina. "What is he talking about? Who are these people?"

Regina hesitated, her mind racing. She couldn't let the meeting spiral further out of control—not with Emma's safety and the fragile balance of power at stake. "They're grasping at straws," she said evenly. "Pay them no mind."

"You can't protect her forever, Regina," the Keeper said, his tone laced with warning. "The truth will come out, and when it does—"

"Get out," Regina growled, her magic sparking faintly at her fingertips. The room seemed to darken, the air crackling with her power. "All of you."

The Keepers exchanged uneasy glances but rose from their seats, unwilling to challenge Regina's dominance. Their movements were slow and deliberate, as though gauging her every reaction. As they filed out of the room, Graham lingered near the doorway, his gaze flicking between Regina and Emma, clearly torn about whether to intervene.

Ruby stood beside Regina, her presence a steady reassurance throughout the tense exchange. She shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing as the remaining Keepers hesitated, their defiance lingering in the air.

Suddenly, the faint energy of the bond Regina shared with her pack rippled through her. It was a pull—a primal instinct that alerted her whenever her pack sensed her magic flaring in defense. She glanced toward the council hall doors, her expression softening for a brief moment as she felt their approach.

Footsteps echoed outside, and the remaining members of her pack appeared in the doorway, their postures rigid and alert. Mason and Fey were at the forefront, flanking the entrance like silent sentinels, their eyes scanning the room for threats. Their arrival was both subtle and deliberate, the weight of their loyalty unmistakable as they stood at Regina's back.

One of the Keepers, an elder named Efron, stepped forward, seemingly unfazed by the pack's arrival. His pale gray eyes bore into Regina, cold and calculating. "You don't decide when this meeting ends, Queen Alpha," he said, his tone laced with derision. "Not when there are... anomalies we can no longer ignore."

Regina straightened, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. Her red lips pressed into a firm line, the glow of her authority unwavering as her pack's presence reinforced her resolve. "If you're referring to the human who has no place in our affairs, there's no anomaly to discuss."

Efron's lips curled into a thin smile. "Do you take us for fools, Your Majesty? Something has shifted. The magic within Storybrooke stirs like never before. And it happened the moment she arrived."

Regina's eyes flickered, but her composure remained intact. "And what, exactly, do you suspect I've done, Efron? Enlighten me."

The air in the room grew colder as another Keeper, a woman named Lumina, raised her hand. Tendrils of faint silver magic danced around her fingertips. "We suspect you've been tampering, Regina," she said, her voice smooth and sharp. "Perhaps with the very curse that holds this town together."

"I have done no such thing," Regina replied evenly, though her voice dropped into a dangerous growl. "And you would do well to remember who you are speaking to."

But the Keepers weren't listening. Lumina's silver magic expanded, twisting in the air like searching vines, while Efron began muttering an incantation. The Guardians standing behind them added their own power, their combined magic weaving into a shimmering barrier that enclosed Regina.

"What is the meaning of this?" Regina snarled, her hands sparking with red magic. Her pack behind her began growling louder in unison, their feral instincts rising to protect their queen.

Efron's voice was calm, detached. "If you are innocent, then you have nothing to fear. But we cannot allow your actions—whatever they may be—to go unchecked. We will uncover the truth, one way or another."

The silver tendrils shot toward Regina, aiming to pierce her defenses. Her eyes burned crimson, and her magic erupted in a violent wave, meeting their assault head-on. The air crackled as red and silver collided, sparks flying like shattered stars.

"You dare to attack me in my own town?" Regina's voice thundered, her magic intensifying as she pushed back against their combined force. Her pack stepped closer, their growls filling the room, but she held up a hand to stop them.

"Stay back," she commanded, her gaze never leaving the Keepers.

The barrier trembled as her magic surged, consuming the silver threads and forcing them to retreat. Efron staggered, his face pale, while Lumina hissed in frustration, her magic dissipating.

Regina advanced, her power blazing around her like an inferno. "If you ever try to touch me with your petty spells again, I will remind you exactly why I am the Queen Alpha and why this town remains under my protection."

The Keepers exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier confidence shaken. Efron finally spoke, his voice strained. "We are simply ensuring the stability of the curse. This is for the good of everyone."

"Do not test me, Efron," Regina said, her tone icy. "Your actions have been noted. Now, I suggest you leave before I reconsider letting you walk out of here—or before my pack ensures you don't."

The Keepers hesitated but eventually withdrew their magic, the tension in the room easing slightly. Regina's pack relaxed but remained alert, their eyes trained on the Keepers and Guardians as they reluctantly shuffled out of the room.

When the last of them had gone, Regina turned to Graham and Ruby, her breathing heavy but controlled. "Ensure that they don't pull a stunt like that again."

Ruby nodded, her jaw tight. "Are you okay, Regina?"

Regina waved a hand dismissively, though her expression betrayed a flicker of vulnerability. "I'm fine. But they've made one thing clear: they're more desperate than I thought. We need to be prepared for whatever comes next."

Ruby glanced at Graham, her brows furrowing as unease flickered across her face. "Desperate Keepers are the most dangerous kind," she muttered. "They'll come back, won't they?"

Regina nodded curtly, her gaze fixed on the door where the Keepers had exited. "This was just the first move in whatever game they're playing. But next time, we'll be ready."

Her pack nodded in unison, preparing to leave as well, their loyalty unwavering. Graham lingered, his expression troubled as though weighing whether to speak. Regina gave him a sharp look, and he pressed his lips into a thin line before stepping back.

The faint hum of Regina's magic began to fade, the tension in the room dissipating like a storm receding. But as her power dimmed, a gnawing unease settled in her chest. The Keepers and Guardians had exposed their cards tonight, but it was clear they were far from finished. And whatever their next move was, it would involve Emma—of that, she was certain.

Regina took a slow breath, steadying herself before turning toward Emma, who stood by the doorway, her expression a mix of confusion and defiance.

"Are you alright?" Regina asked, her tone softening as her sharp edges melted away, replaced by something gentler.

Emma nodded slowly, though her face was pale. "I… I don't understand any of this."

"You're not supposed to," Regina said, her voice gentler now. "Not yet."

Henry burst into the room, his storybook clutched tightly in his hands. "Emma! Are you okay?"

Emma forced a smile for his benefit. "Yeah, kid. I'm fine."

Henry turned to Regina, his eyes wide with worry. "You didn't let them hurt her, did you?"

Regina crouched down to meet his gaze, placing a hand on his shoulder. "No one is going to hurt her. I promise."

Henry nodded, his trust in her unwavering. Regina straightened and looked at Emma, her protective instincts flaring once more.

"Come with me," she said. "We need to talk."

Emma hesitated, glancing at Henry. "What about him?"

"He'll be safe here," Regina said. "Ruby, stay with him."

Ruby nodded, stepping forward to stand beside Henry. Regina placed a hand lightly on Emma's back, guiding her toward the door.

As they walked out into the cool evening air, Emma glanced at Regina. "Why are you doing this?"

Regina didn't answer right away. She stared ahead, her thoughts a tangled web of conflicting emotions. "Because," she said finally, "you don't belong here. And yet, here you are. That means something. And until we figure out what, I'm not letting anyone hurt you."

Emma blinked, surprised by the sincerity in Regina's tone. For the first time since arriving in Storybrooke, she felt a flicker of something she couldn't quite name—hope, perhaps. Or maybe it was just the beginning of something much bigger.

Regina watched Emma and Henry leave the meeting hall, ensuring they were well out of earshot before turning her attention back to Graham.

"What's the situation?" Regina demanded, her voice sharp and commanding.

Graham glanced toward the Keepers, who were gathered in a huddle. One of their own—Logan—lay writhing on the floor in violent convulsions. Ruby was crouched beside him, her face pale and her hands trembling as she checked his pulse.

"He collapsed as soon as the meeting ended," Graham explained, his expression grim. "It has to be one of the Keeper spells."

Regina narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening. "What triggered it?"

"Probably his mouth," Ruby muttered, standing and crossing her arms. "He was the one who let slip about Mary Margaret and David Nolan."

Regina strode over to the fallen Keeper, her presence commanding as she loomed over him. Logan's body jerked one final time before going limp, his breathing shallow but steady.

"Fool," Regina muttered under her breath, her voice low enough that only Ruby and Graham could hear.

"Why would that cause this?" Graham asked, his brow furrowing.

Regina shot him a look. "Because certain topics are forbidden, Graham. And when someone speaks of them, the Keepers' fail-safes are activated."

Ruby paled. "Fail-safes? You mean this was on purpose?"

"Yes," Regina said curtly. "Mr. Gold is the spellwarder. He's responsible for crafting enchantments that keep the Keepers' secrets safe. If one of their own steps out of line—" She gestured at Logan's motionless body. "—this is what happens."

Ruby's lips tightened into a thin line. "That's barbaric."

"That's the Keepers," Regina said, her tone laced with disdain. "They'll do whatever it takes to protect their power. If that means silencing one of their own, so be it."

Graham shifted uneasily. "What about us? Are we in danger of triggering these spells?"

"No," Regina said firmly. "We're not Keepers or Guardians. Their magic doesn't apply to us—yet."

"Yet?" Ruby echoed, her voice rising slightly.

Regina sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "For now, they tolerate us because they think we're useful. But if they ever decide we're a threat…" Her voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken warning hanging in the air.

Logan groaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked dazed and disoriented, his gaze flitting between the Keepers who stood around him.

"He won't remember anything," Regina said. "That's part of the spell. It wipes their memory of whatever they said that caused the breach."

"What about Henry and Emma?" Graham asked quietly. "If they start asking questions, if they get too close…"

Regina's eyes hardened. "That's why I made sure they left before this happened. Emma knows nothing, and it needs to stay that way."

"And if she doesn't?" Ruby pressed.

"She will," Regina said firmly. "We'll handle it."

Ruby and Graham exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing.

Regina turned back to the Keepers. "Take him to Mr. Gold. Let him deal with his mess."

The Keepers nodded stiffly, lifting Logan between them and carrying him out of the hall. Once they were gone, Ruby let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"What now?" Graham asked.

"Now, we keep Emma and Henry out of their reach," Regina said. "The Keepers are too focused on their own games to bother with them right now, but that won't last forever."

"And the truth about Mary Margaret and David Nolan?" Ruby asked. "What happens if Emma finds out?"

Regina's jaw tightened. "She won't. Not yet."

Ruby hesitated, then nodded. Graham lingered for a moment, his expression troubled, but eventually followed Ruby out of the hall.

Left alone, Regina glanced toward the door Emma had exited earlier. An inexplicable wave of protectiveness surged through her, and she clenched her fists at her sides.

"I won't let them hurt you," she murmured under her breath. Then she turned and left, the echoes of her footsteps fading into the silence of the empty hall.

Regina stood in the doorway of Henry's room, the soft glow of his bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. He was seated cross-legged on his bed, a book open in his lap. She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"You've been quiet tonight," Regina said, her voice softer than usual. "Something on your mind?"

Henry glanced up at her, his wide, earnest eyes momentarily flickering with hesitation before he closed the book and held it tightly against his chest.

"Just thinking," he replied.

Regina stepped inside, her heels muffled by the thick carpet. She lowered herself into the chair by his desk, studying him closely. "About Emma?"

Henry nodded slowly. "I just want her to understand, Mom. To know the truth."

Regina's chest tightened at the way he said Mom. The bond between them was unshakable, even with Emma's arrival. She reached out, brushing a strand of his dark hair back.

"She's not ready, Henry," Regina said firmly. "The Keepers and the Guardians won't let her remember what happened at the meeting. They'll do everything in their power to keep her in the dark."

"But she's the Savior," Henry said, his voice tinged with frustration. "She's supposed to break the curse. She needs to know!"

Regina stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "How do you know that, Henry? Where did you even get this idea?"

Henry hesitated, his gaze darting to the book clutched in his hands. Slowly, he held it out to her. "From this."

Regina took the book, her fingers brushing against its worn leather cover. The gold lettering on the spine gleamed faintly in the dim light.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice low.

"It's a storybook," Henry said, his excitement bubbling to the surface. "Belle, the librarian, gave it to me. She said it might give me some hope."

Regina's heart sank. Belle. Of course, she thought. The one person in town who might dare to meddle in matters that were better left untouched. She opened the book and flipped through its pages, her breath catching as she recognized the faces and names woven into its illustrations.

"This isn't just a storybook," Regina said, her voice tight. "These are... our lives."

Henry nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Everyone's in here, Mom. You, me, Emma... even Mary Margaret and David Nolan. They're Snow White and Prince Charming."

Regina snapped the book shut, her pulse racing. "Henry, you cannot show this to anyone else. Do you understand me?"

"But why?" Henry asked, his voice small. "Emma deserves to know the truth. She's the only one who can break the curse."

Regina stood, the book still in her hands, and paced the room. "Because the truth is dangerous. The Keepers and Guardians won't hesitate to silence anyone who threatens their control over this town. That includes Emma—and it includes you."

Henry frowned, but the determination in his eyes didn't waver. "I don't care what they do to me. Emma has to know. She's the Savior. She's the only one who can save us."

Regina turned back to him, her expression softening. She placed the book on his nightstand and sat down beside him, taking his hands in hers.

"I know you believe that," she said gently. "And maybe you're right. But for now, we have to be careful. Emma's not ready for this, and if the Keepers find out what you're doing—" She paused, her voice catching. "I won't let them hurt you, Henry. I promise."

Henry searched her face, then nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I won't say anything. But... can I keep the book?"

Regina hesitated, then sighed. "Yes. But keep it hidden. And don't let anyone else see it, not even Emma."

Henry's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, Mom."

Regina stood, brushing a kiss against his forehead. "Get some sleep, Henry. We'll figure this out. Together."

She turned off the lamp as she left the room, the book's weight lingering in her hands. As she closed the door behind her, she whispered to herself, "Together. No matter what it takes."

The house fell silent, but Regina's thoughts swirled. The storybook was a problem—a dangerous one. Yet as much as she wanted to destroy it, she couldn't bring herself to do so. Not yet.

Not while the Savior's story was still unfolding.