Author's Note: Hi. So, I know it has been five months, and I am sorry for that. I got caught up in developing the back-story, so it was a little harder to focus on the actual story. Hopefully, it will pay off in the end.

I hope you guys like this chapter.

To Those Who Reviewed:

Prince Starshine,

Thank you for quoting the parts you liked. I often do that too when I like a story

Thank you for reviewing.

Guest Who Reviewed On July 15th,

Thank you. I am glad you like it.

You know what, me too.

Here is the update. Not soon, but not two years, so …

Thank you for reviewing.

Guest Who Reviewed On April 5th,

Here is the more.

Thank you for reviewing.

Chapter One: A Strange Town

"I think we're lost," Henry said, turning the map inside out.

"We can't be lost." Emma responded, "We don't know where we're going."

It was true. They hadn't exactly picked a destination. It had been a long time since Emma had just taken off, not knowing where she was going. The last time had been when she met the Stiltskins. That had, however, been the best thing that had ever happened to her. She needed that again, that luck that had brought her to them. And if it all went wrong, she would still have her family and they would all have a good story to tell.

"Look, there's a sign, see," Emma said, pointing. It read 'Welcome to Storybrooke'. Hm, strange name, Emma thought.

"But that's what I'm talking about," Henry said. "There isn't supposed to be a town here, according to the map. Look." He held the map out, but Emma wasn't dumb enough to take it. She was driving after all.

"We'll stop in somewhere and ask for directions then," Emma said, as they drove through the town. She glanced out the window taking in their surroundings. The town seemed nice enough. It was simple, quaint, maybe a little old-fashioned, but not the sort of place that would do anybody any harm.

Emma drove around for a bit, finally stopping in front of a gas station. She got out of the car and headed inside. Neal followed behind her.

"You're coming with me to ask for directions?" she challenged, humor in her voice.

"Hey, I'm not the typical guy, okay? I can ask for directions."

Emma laughed. "Well, maybe so, but it doesn't take both of us." She opened her purse and grabbed her wallet, tossing it to him, "Here. Why don't you get gas while I'm in there?"

Henry rolled down the window, and called out, "Can you get some cinnamon buns or something?"

Emma smiled. Both she and Henry had a thing about cinnamon. "Sure, kid," she responded, heading into the store.

Neal smiled as he watched his wife walk over to the gas station. Henry had been right. This trip would be good for them. He knew it had been Henry's idea; he'd heard them talking that night, after he and Emma had fought about his secrets.

He hated hiding things from her. From the moment he'd met Emma, Neal had wanted nothing more than to tell her all of his secrets. But Emma had clearly been a skeptic, and anyway, even the most open-minded person would find his story a little hard to swallow. If you start a story with "My father is Rumpelstiltskin," you won't get to the next sentence. Whoever you're talking to will either run off or call an asylum. And "My father is Rumpelstiltskin" didn't even scratch the surface of Neal's life. How could he explain to Emma that he had grown up in an enchanted land where people rode in horse-drawn carriages and ogres were a real threat? It just didn't work. Neal couldn't offer Emma or Henry his past. All he could give them was a future. He prayed daily that that would be enough.

"Are you going to be much longer?" a British female voice asked.

Neal looked at the numbers flashing by. It was more than he had meant to get; time had gotten away from him.

Quickly, he took the pump out and took care of the bill. Then, he turned to the woman. "All yours," he said, holding the pump out to her. She took it, giving him an annoyed smile. Suddenly, Neal was four years old again. He hadn't seen those eyes in so long. Still, he knew them. Some things a boy never forgot, like his mother's eyes.

He looked the woman up and down. She had Milah's eyes all right, and Milah's dark hair. She wasn't Milah, though; he was sure of that. Aside from the fact that she couldn't be, she didn't look exactly like her. Again, a boy never forgot his mother's face. Still, the resemblance was striking.

"Have I somehow given the impression that I like men to gawk at me with their mouths open?" She asked.

Neal shook his head, "Sorry, I uh, you just … sorry. But does the name Milah mean anything to you?"

"That's a rather pathetic pick-up line."

"I'm not trying-"

"Hey, everything okay?" he heard Emma ask behind him.

Not knowing how to answer, Neal decided instead to introduce himself. "I'm Neal. This is my wife, Emma."

"Wife. Well, you are a naughty boy then, aren't you?"

Emma's eyebrows went up, "Excuse me, lady-"

"Everything okay?" came the question again, this time from Neal's father who had gotten out of the car. He hobbled over on his cane to see what all the fuss was about. Upon seeing the British woman, his eyes widened. They might have been wider than Neal's if that were possible. In any case, Neal knew that his father has seen the resemblance as well.

"Oh, just a bit of a misunderstanding I suppose." The woman seemed suddenly more polite, but she wasn't looking at Neal, Emma, or Neal's father. Her eyes were focused on Henry, who had come along after his grandfather.

"Henry-" Emma began to chastise.

"What? Everyone else got out of the car." Emma shook her head, rolling her eyes. "So, what's going on?"

"I was waiting for the pump is all. Your father was kind enough to give it over. I don't know what all the fuss is about really." She spoke directly to Henry, smiling at him kindly.

"Neal, a word," Neal's father said, gently pulling his son to the side.

Neal nodded. "We'll be back in a minute."

The two of them headed over to a corner of the sidewalk. Once they were well out of the way, Neal spoke. "You saw it too. I know you did. She looks … she looks like Mom."

"Yes, she does resemble your mother," his father confirmed. "Not just her, though." Neal looked at his father, questioningly, "You remember what I told you about what happened to your mother. How she ran off with a pirate." Neal nodded, and his father continued. "When a man's wife is stolen, when he is taunted about his inability to protect his family, he never forgets. That face, the face of that pirate has long haunted me. And that woman," he turned now to point at the woman who was currently talking with Emma and Henry. "She resembles both your mother and the man she ran off with."

"But, how is that possible?"

His father shook his head, "I don't know, Bae." He replied, slipping. Sometimes, when he wasn't thinking of it, he still called his son by his given name, as opposed to the one he had picked out of a book from the 1960s. "There is something wrong with this town. I could sense it when we drove up … told myself I was just being paranoid."

"Sense what?"

"I'm not sure. It's … it's not exactly magic, but there's something … something not quite natural."

Both men stood looking at each other for a minute, neither quite sure what to do.

"We need to get out of here." Neal finally said, "We worked too hard to get away from magic, to build a life … I'm not letting either of us get dragged back in."

His father smiled, "Of course, son."

They headed back to Emma, Henry, and the woman.

"-Right up the road. I'd be happy to show you the way if you want."

"The way to what?" Neal asked, putting his arms around Emma.

"A diner," she answered. "Thought it might be a good idea to refuel before we hit the road, and Jamie says they have pretty good burgers."

"Jamie?" Neal asked, looking at the woman.

She held out her hand for him to shake, and he obliged, "Jamie P. Jones," she said.

Neal noticed his father's eyes widen slightly. "Jones. Interesting surname."

Emma looked over at her father-in-law, eyebrows raised, "Seriously? You have problems with her last name?"

Henry stifled a laugh, getting a slightly reproachful, but mostly good-humored look from Neal.

"Not a problem. Quite the opposite in fact. You have a lovely name, miss," Neal's father said, bowing slightly. "As my daughter-in-law implied, my last name is quite strange, so you may call me Jack if you wish."

Jamie nodded, "Right. Well, follow me then," she said, getting back in her car. The four of them got back into their own car and followed her lead. Neal tried to keep his anxiety at bay. He could tell his father was doing the same, though he seemed to be doing a slightly better job of it.

"Where … where are we?" It came out as a strangled sort of a cough. Baelfire shivered. His own voice sounded bizarre to his ears. Shivering, he stood, looking around. They were lying on the ground, which was covered in snow. It was apparently winter in this world. Baelfire got to his feet, only to sway, stumble, and eventually fall back down.

"Bae?" He heard his father shout. The man reached out for him, taking hold of his arm.

Turning, Baelfire took in his father's face and, despite the fear he felt, compounded with the bitter cold, he smiled. Because it was his papa's face. He had not seen his papa's real face in over a year now: old and tired, but kind and full of love. His papa had been a gentleman before the curse had taken him over.

Baelfire never completely understood why. He knew his papa had not wanted to lose him to the draft. He knew his papa wanted to save the children, taken from their homes too young to fight in the Ogre Wars. He had done that. He had saved the children and stopped the ogres. But had it been worth it? His papa had turned into a monster, had sacrificed his humanity. He had become something more deadly than any ogre or war, and Baelfire had been ashamed to call him father. Still, he loved the man, and he knew deep down, his papa was still there. That was why he had made the deal with the Blue Fairy. She had promised him a portal to a land without magic, and his papa had agreed to go with him so that they could start fresh.

There had been a moment, as they went through the portal, when it had seemed like his Papa would chicken out and Baelfire had been terrified. But he hadn't, and now Baelfire and Rumpelstiltskin were lying on the freezing ground in the land without magic. Had it been worth it? Absolutely.

"Papa!" Baelfire exclaimed, not really sure why, except that he was happy to see the man he remembered.

"Be careful, Bae. We know nothing of where we are."

Baelfire nodded, trying to compose himself as he took in his surroundings. It was hard to make out much, as everything was covered with snow, but he could determine some things. There were a bunch of buildings lined up on either side of the road, or what was probably a road under all the snow. None of the buildings were particularly large in a palatial sort of way, but they were all a great deal bigger than the huts from his village. A few of the buildings had smaller, snow-covered structures next to them. Maybe those buildings were where the poor lived.

He looked over at his father again. Papa tried to stand, then cried out in pain. "I'd almost forgotten," He whispered, and Bae felt bad for him. Rumpelstiltskin had an old leg injury from the war. He had healed it with magic, but in a land without magic, it would make sense for the enchantment to be undone.

Before Baelfire could offer his papa a hand, a gigantic monster came upon them. Rumpelstiltskin cowered in fear, knowing he could not move. Baelfire tried to help, only to hear him say, "Run, Son. Save yourself."

Like that would happen. He would not abandon his papa now.

But then the monster stopped and a strangely dressed man got out of it. He approached them cautiously, "You okay there?"

"That monster of yours nearly killed my papa!" Baelfire said angrily.

"Bae!" Rumpelstiltskin scolded nervously.

"It's okay. She is pretty big and I'm awfully sorry. See, I didn't think anyone would be out here, what with the weather and all the shops closed. Seemed like the right time to plow. Locals get a notice just in case, but I'm guessing you two aren't from around here." Rumpelstiltskin nodded, "Well, if you want to climb up in her, I can give you a ride."

Man and boy stared at stranger and beast.

"I'm sure we'll be-" Rumpelstiltskin started to say. Then he let out a grunt of pain.

Realization dawned on the man's face, "You're hurt! Of course. That's why you didn't move. I thought it was just the snow but … I'll give you a lift to the hospital. We'll get you looked at."

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head, "We don't have any means of payment."

The stranger laughed. "That's all right. I have some pull there; the missus is one of the higher-ups. Anyway, they're pretty generous around here. Noticed it when I first moved down. What can I say? Some stereotypes are true." He laughed again and helped a befuddled Rumpelstiltskin to the seat inside his monster, "Welcome to Minnesota."

Emma nodded politely at the woman waving at her as she pulled up to the diner. "Okay, this is getting creepy. That's like the fifth person to wave to me just since we left the gas station."

"So?" Neal asked, examining the street.

"I don't know. Don't you think it's a little off? Jamie seemed normal enough, but there's this super-friendly vibe I get that's-"

"This from a girl who spent her teen years in Minnesota."

Emma sighed, shaking her head. "This is different. It's like I'm having déjà vu of something that hasn't happened yet, but then it will happen, there'll be this moment, and I'll know why I feel so weirded out right now."

Neal shook his head. That was strange. Emma could tell that he was feeling the same sense of wrongness that she was, but for some reason, he was pretending to be completely comfortable.

She remembered the look on his face when they had been talking to Jamie. Emma had known Neal for half her life now, and she had never seen him look at a girl like that. What did it mean? Maybe she shouldn't have stopped for gas in a town that wasn't even on the map.

"This is the place," Jamie announced, motioning to the little diner with the word 'Granny's' printed clearly over the entryway.

"Thanks," Emma said, as she ushered Henry out of the car and up the steps. Neal walked in front of them and her father-in-law brought up the rear.

When they came into the shop, every person at every table turned to stare at them, "We don't get visitors a lot," Jamie whispered, "I wouldn't worry, though. This town is probably the nicest place you'll ever visit. That's why nobody ever leaves." The last sentence made a chill go up Emma's spine, but she tried not to show it.

"Um, hi," she said, approaching the kindly-looking elderly woman. "Can we have two hot chocolates with cinnamon, two black coffees, three grilled cheeses, and a Caesar salad?"

"Coming right up," The woman said with a kind nod. "Sit anywhere you like."

For the sake of her father-in-law, Emma picked a table nearest the door. The four of them sat down. There was a flier on each seat. Emma picked hers up, taking a look at it. "Vote Mayor Mills?" she read aloud curiously.

"It's time to re-elect our mayor," Jamie explained.

Emma examined the picture. She had to admit, it was good publicity. The candidate practically glowed.

"So, who is running against her?"

Jamie looked at Emma, seemingly confused, "Why would anyone run against her?"

"Well, that's how elections normally work."

Jamie shook her head, "It's just a formality, really. Everybody knows that she's the best person for the job. We just have to do this so it's on the books. But she always gets a unanimous vote, so who would want to run against her?"

"Unanimous? Seriously? Every single person in this town votes for her?"

"We know a good thing when we see it. She's our family; she takes care of us," Jamie smiled fondly, and the most bizarre thing was, Emma didn't detect a note of sarcasm or fakeness in the woman's voice or face. "Nothing's more important than having someone to look after you."

Okay. That was a fair statement; Emma could relate to it. She knew how it was when nobody looked after you. Still, there was something majorly fishy going on here. Even the best person in the world would have somebody who hated them, especially if they were a public figure in a position of power. No way this whole town loved their mayor.

"Excuse me?" She asked, tapping a brunette behind her on the shoulder. When the woman turned around, something made Emma pause. She felt like she'd met this woman before and, judging by the look on the woman's face, she felt something too. But then it was gone. Emma had probably imagined it.

"Yes?" The woman asked, her voice kind and angelic. She was probably the wrong choice, as she seemed like the type who wouldn't have a wrong word to say about anyone. Still, she had started out; she might as well finish.

"Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering, are you planning on voting for, well, no, not voting for—she's the only one running—what I mean is, what do you think of the mayor?"

"I think she's wonderful," the woman answered, not even stopping to think about it.

"Okay, wonderful. But, wonderful as what? I mean, is she a wonderful mayor, a wonderful person…?" Emma trailed off, waiting for the woman to respond.

She didn't have to wait long, "Yes, of course. She's a wonderful mayor, a wonderful person, and a wonderful sister."

Oops. "Sister, as in … you're the mayor's sister?" The woman nodded. "Um, never mind."

Emma started to turn around when she heard the woman speak up. "You must be new around here. I'm Mary Margret."

"Emma," Emma said, shaking the woman's hand. Once again, she had the feeling that she knew this woman from somewhere.

"I have to get going, but I'm sure I'll see you around. Welcome to Storybrooke."

"Thank you," Emma called after her. She turned to see Neal gazing at her with a knowing smile. "Shut up."

"Hello, sweetheart," Granny said pleasantly into the mouthpiece.

"Hello, Granny. How are you today?" the proud accented voice responded with fake affection.

"I'm lovely dear, and yourself?"

"Lovely."

"Well, I thought you'd want to know, there are four newcomers in my diner. I've never seen them in town before."

There was a pause. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Thank you, Granny. You are so good to me."

"My pleasure child. Good day to you." There was no answer on the other line. Clearly, the person on the other end had hung up.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier."

Neal turned. He had been standing in line for the bathroom and hadn't noticed Jamie come up behind him. Shrugging, he offered her a small smile, "What's to be sorry about?"

"I shouldn't have accused you of hitting on me, especially not with your son right there. If I'd seen him, I wouldn't have."

"You may not believe me, but I swear, I really wasn't. It was just, well, you remind me of somebody that I haven't seen for a long time, someone I never thought I'd see again."

"Can I ask who?"

Normally, Neal wouldn't have answered. He'd learned to be cagey over the past couple of decades. Then, somehow, he felt the words coming out of his mouth as though it was the most natural thing in the world, "My mom."

Jamie gave him a sad smile. "I lost my mum too, and my dad for that matter." She looked off past him for a moment, and he was sure that she wasn't in the diner anymore. Then she shook her head. "Sorry, I don't usually share that much with strangers."

Neal nodded, "Well, it's been that kind of day."

Jamie shot him a grateful smile for a millisecond, then glanced down at her shoes and began to shift from one to the other, "Right. Well, I need to get going. Papers to grade and all that."

"You're a teacher?"

"Principal, actually, but I help out sometimes. Everybody needs to be looked after or else everything falls apart."

Neal nodded, "Well, it was nice to meet you."

There was something about this town. Henry couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he could feel it almost instantly. His parents were different here, and his grandfather, too. Everybody was different. His mom was more relaxed than he'd seen her in a long time, and his dad was surprisingly tense. And his grandfather, well, Henry couldn't figure that part out at all. The man seemed to have changed, like new life had been breathed into him. Except he was the same loving grandfather that Henry had always known. So what was different?

His mom was eating breakfast and making friends—or causing trouble, which for her was usually a 50/50 chance. His father was waiting for the bathroom, and his grandfather seemed to have disappeared. So Henry decided to venture out and explore. He waited until his mother was reasonably distracted and snuck out the back. He was surprised at what he saw: a woman in a shawl digging through the diner's dumpster.

She seemed to notice him staring because she froze. She turned to face him, her eyes wide with fear. Then, she took him in, looking him up and down. She squinted as if unsure of what she was seeing. Her cheeks grew a little red.

"I'm sorry." Henry said, "I didn't mean to startle you."

The woman nodded. "That's all right." She said in an accent that sounded Australian to Henry.

"Do you need help?" Henry asked.

The woman flinched back like a wounded animal. "I'm ten. I won't hurt you." Henry said, smiling at her gently.

"I know. I just … it's a little embarrassing." Henry nodded encouragingly, unsure what else to say. "I'm not looking for food or anything, just so you know. I was actually, well, it'll sound silly."

Henry shook his head, "You can trust me."

She looked at him for a minute, squinting again. Her nose twitched a little, and she appeared to be biting the inside of her lip. Then, she stopped, nodding to herself, "All right. I was looking for a book that I lost."

"A book?"

"Yes. I love books and this one … well, this one's special."

"What do you mean?"

The woman shook her head, "Have you ever known something, and not known really how you know? That's what it's like with this book. I've read every book I could ever get my hands on. They're the quiet friends that make me feel safe at night. This one though, I've never read. It's a lovely book, a beautiful cover. Aside from that, it's the only thing I actually own, and I've had it for as long as I can remember. For some reason though, some reason I don't understand, I've never actually read it. But it's missing now, and I just know I have to find it."

Henry nodded. "I can help you look."

The woman blushed, then smiled, "That would be very kind of you. Thank you."

Henry joined her at the dumpster. He rolled up his sleeve, reached inside… and pulled up a book.

The woman's eyes widened. "That's amazing. How did you find it so fast?"

Henry shrugged, "I'm not sure. Anyway, here."

He held the book out to her. Oddly enough, it did not smell like it had been sitting in a dumpster. It was perfectly clean.

The woman reached for the book but didn't take it. After a second, she drew her hand back, "I think you should hold onto it."

"What? But you said-"

"I've been searching this dumpster for the past hour, tearing it apart, and you find the book in less than a second. Seems to me there has to be a reason for that." She offered him a shaky smile. "I think you were meant to find it."

Henry raised his left eyebrow at her, "Really?"

"Henry? Are you out here?" Henry turned at his grandfather's voice.

"I'll be right there." He called back, turning back to the woman. She was gone through, and she had left the book with Henry. This really was a strange town.

"Well, I guess we should get back on the road," Emma said, once Neal came back to the table.

"Where's Henry?"

Emma turned to the seat next to her. Then, she began to panic. "Oh my God!"

"I'll go find the lad," her father-in-law said. He headed over to the counter and began talking to the waitress. He was probably asking her if she had seen where Henry went. Emma watched the exchange and then turned back to Neal.

"Wandering off in a strange town? What is he thinking?"

"Emma, calm down," Neal said, putting his hand on hers, "I'm sure he's fine."

Emma sighed. "I guess I'm just a little on edge. This place is …" She didn't know what to follow that with. It was nice and warm, but also kind of creepy. "I'll just be happy once we're all in the car." Neal nodded. He gave Emma a small smile, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just … I thought maybe we could stay the night or something."

"What?"

"Here he is," Mr. Stiltskin said from behind them. "No harm done."

"Henry, what is wrong with you?"

"You guys were all distracted. Besides, I'm fine." Emma did not appreciate it when Henry rolled his eyes at her. Generally, she tried to be a pretty cool and casual parent, but that didn't mean he could disrespect her when she was worried about him. True, he did seem to be fine, though Emma noticed that he had something tucked under his arm.

"What are you holding?"

"A book. Why?"

"Where'd it come from?"

"This woman … " Henry started to say. Then, he paused. Emma waited, and after a second, he continued. "It was a gift," He finally said.

"A gift? From who?"

"Just some woman."

"Henry!"

"What, it's not like it's candy or something, and she didn't want anything in return, she was just being nice. If you hadn't trusted a nice gesture from a stranger, you and Dad wouldn't have even known each other. I wouldn't even be here!"

Emma sighed. She hated when he pulled that card; sometimes she thought maybe she shouldn't have told him how she and Neal had met. However, they were his parents, and he deserved to know, and it wasn't as though she shared every detail.

"Let's just go to the car-"

"Why can't we stay here?" Henry asked. Emma's eyebrows shot up. She looked at Henry and then glanced back at Neal. Neal looked surprised too, so at least she knew it wasn't a conspiracy. "We were just driving aimlessly; we didn't have a destination. And I like it here!"

Emma dropped down to Henry's level and said quietly, "Henry, don't you think this place is a little-?"

"I think it's like a mystery!" Henry interrupted, "It's exactly what our family needs right now. We're supposed to stay here; I can feel it."

"Henry-"

"Pleeeeeeaaaaaseeee!" Damn it. The babyface. He was pulling out the big guns. Those wide hazel eyes were hard to say no to.

Emma let out a sort of grunt, and then sighed. "I guess we should get a room."

Henry smiled widely. Neal smiled as well, though his was more cautious. Emma couldn't read her father-in-law's expression at all, but he was always a bit guarded when it came to showing his emotions. There was, however, an identifiable spark of curiosity in his eyes.

It was strange that he wanted to stay. Neal knew that. If there was even a hint of magic anywhere, he should have been the first to usher his Papa away from it. Magic was nothing but trouble.

But Jamie P. Jones looked like his mother and he needed to know why. He knew it was bizarre, even impossible for her to be related to his mother in any way. Except that nothing was impossible; he had learned that long ago.

The Stiltskins entered a little B&B—also run by Granny—and got squared away. They needed a room on the ground floor, as the building was old and did not have an elevator, but they had dealt with that before. It didn't take long to get everything set up; in mere minutes, Henry and Mr. Stiltskin were heading down the hall to check out the room.

"You sure you're okay with this? The staying?"

Emma nodded. Neal could tell she was still a bit apprehensive about the whole thing, but he also knew that she wouldn't have agreed if some part of her didn't want to. Emma never did anything she didn't really want to do. That was who she was. That was one of the reasons he loved her.

"Hello." A British voice said behind them. It wasn't Jamie, but another woman. She was tall, with long red hair, and she seemed to be sizing up the Stiltskins. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in to greet you, but I just adore newcomers and we don't get many." Aside from being British, her voice was girlish and a little squeaky. She seemed nice, but it was like she was trying too hard.

"You're the mayor, right?" Emma asked. Neal looked at her, surprised. How did she know that? "I saw the fliers. I guess the elections are coming up."

"They were today, actually."

"And of course, you won." Emma's tone seemed to have gotten a little harder. It was subtle and Neal wondered if the mayor noticed.

"Well, I was running unopposed," the mayor responded, her kindness and her smile seeming faker by the minute.

"Congratulations then," Emma said, though Neal could tell she didn't really mean it.

"Thank you. And welcome to Storybrooke. I hope you enjoy my little town."

Emma nodded and she and Neal watched the woman walk away.

It had taken a while, but everybody was finally asleep. Henry was on his bed, thinking about the day's events. He knew he probably should have told his mother the whole story about the woman, but he could just picture her reaction. 'You went in the dumpster?' 'She said what to you?' 'Who was this woman?'

If he were being honest, it was more than that though. From the second he had touched the book, Henry had known there was something special about it. What the woman was saying about his being meant to find it sounded so crazy, and yet …

There was something about this town and something about this book that was special. Henry could feel it. He didn't know how, but he knew that this book was important. He knew it was meant for him. So, after he was sure everybody was asleep, he took it out and began to read.