Chapter 17: Love Doesn't Grow on Trees
Zelena was ecstatic. After spending far too long in Wonderland, a trip with a white rabbit and his curious companions, and a detour to study magic under Maleficent, she was finally back in Edward's kingdom. She couldn't wait to see him. He would be so pleased!
It didn't take long to track him down. She simply materialized in front of him in his bedchamber and threw her arms around him. "Edward!" she said, "I'm so glad to see you."
Edward held her a bit awkwardly. He must not have been expecting her.
"I'm sorry if I surprised you, but once I returned to the Enchanted Forest, I couldn't wait to see you. I missed you so."
"I missed you as well, of course," Edward said. "Does your return mean you have mastered your magic?"
Zelena smiled and levitated them both. "Does this answer your question?" she asked.
"Extraordinary," Edward said. "Imagine what our armies could do with this advantage. Can you teach me?"
Zelena brought them both down to the ground and examined him with her new heightened ability. "It's just … well, you're not very magical," she informed him. He seemed to deflate, so Zelena quickly said, "But I can do it for you. We'll be unstoppable, ruling the kingdom together, and I'll use my magic however you like."
"I suppose …" Edward said, though he sounded doubtful.
She took his hands in hers. "I promise it will work. Anyway, what matters is that we're together, isn't it? We'll marry and –"
"Yes, well, about that," Edward said, stepping out of her embrace and walking the length of the room. "The thing is, father has begun discussions with King Leopold and Queen Ava about arranging a betrothal to their daughter, Princess Snow."
Of course, Leopold's daughter, of all people, would try to steal her love from her. Zelena seethed, but reminded herself that it was Edward's choice that mattered, not his parents plan. "We can go to him together. We'll tell him we're in love, explain that we want to marry, that you want to make me your queen. Surely, he'll understand –"
"Zelena, be realistic. I'm the heir to a royal throne. My father would never allow me to marry someone who was lowborn."
"Lowborn!" Zelena said, affronted.
"You told me your mother was a miller's daughter and that she abandoned you. You have no breeding. My father would say that a queen needs -"
"But I was a queen in Wonderland. I took the place over, and they made me the Queen of Hearts. Surely that counts for something."
"It is not the same as someone born to rule. Gods intervene to put the proper rulers on the throne. That can't be matched by … someone who seizes power by conquest." He scoffed a bit at the last bit.
At first, Zelena was furious with his father; how dared he? But then, she thought about the way Edward had said the word conquest, the derisiveness in his voice. "You don't agree with him, do you?" she asked. "That I'm not fit to rule because of how I was born?"
"I'm only a prince because of how I was born," he said. "It means something."
"Surely, our love means more. Surely, you could still marry for love if –"
"It's out of the question," Edward said, and he didn't seem nearly as put out by it as Zelena felt he should be. "I could keep you on as a mistress, of course. It's a rather common practice among –"
"A mistress?" Zelena all but shrieked. "You would be with Snow White in public, and keep me hidden on the side?" She couldn't believe this was happening. "I thought you were proud of me, that you would want people to see me. You told me I had worth, that my magic wasn't something to be ashamed of but something to be celebrated and now you want me to hide?"
"Well, your magic is something to be celebrated," he said. "And I'll encourage you to use it, for the good of the kingdom."
Zelena shook her head back and forth, backing away from him. "That's all this was ever about for you, wasn't it? My magic, used to serve your kingdom and build up your rule?'
"Of course not. I –"
"Don't," Zelena said, holding up a hand and freezing him in place. "I see how things are. You meant to use me, toss me scraps of love so I would provide you with magic, and make you powerful. Well, I refuse. You will NOT use me. If anything … I will use you. You will serve me."
She thrust her hand into his chest and tore out his heart. "No reaction?" she asked, though, of course, he was still frozen. "You felt nothing, and I know why. It's because you're heartless already, aren't you? Now, let's have you go to see Princess Snow White and tell her you will not be marrying her."
Jack and Aria starred at the glowing red … thing in the box. Neither knew quite what to make of it. It was shaped, to some extent, like a human heart, but it was glowing with a red light, throbbing and beating.
"Is it some sort of toy, maybe?" Aria asked. "Or a nightlight of some sort?"
"I …" Jack was just starring at the thing, his mouth open.
"Perhaps it has a … a battery, or something. We should examine it." She reached in to pick it up, and Jack grabbed her arm to stop her. She shot him a look, and he looked at his hand on her arm, almost as if in surprise. Then he let go.
She picked the thing up. It was warm, and there was a quality to it … almost like she was holding something that was alive.
She looked it over, turning it this way and that, looking for some sort of latch. When she found none, she applied some pressure to see if maybe she needed to squeeze to open it.
Jack gripped his chest and stumbled, gasping for breath.
Aria dropped the thing and ran to his side. "Are you all right?"
Jack took a deep breath, but nodded. "I just felt a … a tightness, in me chest. It was … there was pain."
"Here, come sit," she said, leading him to the couch. "I'll fetch you a glass of water."
Jack nodded. "Thanks."
When she returned, he was staring at the thing on the floor.
"Did it … does something about it upset you?" she asked, as she handed him the glass.
He gulped down the water. "I don't … maybe we should put it back in the box, yeah?"
Aria nodded. "Of course. Yes. Yes, we will."
She picked it up and dropped it in the box. "There then. We'll put it away somewhere, and we won't even think of it."
Jack nodded. "Thanks," he said, giving her a smile. "I'd, uh, like to get some rest."
"I'll make up the couch," Aria said, scooping up the box, as she headed for their bedroom. She placed the box in their linen closet and covered it over with a sheet, before taking out the sheets, pillowcase, and blanket that Jack had been using since he had let her take the bedroom. Then, she closed the door, convincing herself that she need not think about the box again, or how her husband had reacted when he saw it. She would put it out of her head. It didn't matter. The thing was hidden away, and they would just pretend that the whole ordeal had never happened.
Office hours were over, and Mr. Langland still hadn't gotten back to Emma, so she had tracked down his home address. It had taken a little legwork and research, but she was nothing if not resourceful.
She rang the doorbell incessantly until she heard footsteps and saw the doorknob turn. Surprisingly, it wasn't Mr. Langland on the other side.
"Ashley?" Emma asked, startled. "What are you - ?"
"You shouldn't be here," Ashley said.
"I mean … I could say the same to you," Emma said, and realized how stupid that was the second it was out of her mouth. The last thing Ashley needed was to feel like Emma was judging her choices. "I meant –"
"I know what you meant, but things have changed. He wants to … he wants to make good."
Emma found that a little hard to believe. The guy had seemed like pure slime to her. Still, if that's what Ashley wanted … "Then I'm happy for you. Is he in? I need to talk to him."
"He is," Ashley said, not moving.
"Can you go get him?" Emma said, trying to keep the impatience from her voice.
"Word has spread about your husband," Ashley said. "I'm sorry, truly I am, but you can't expect him to represent Neal now. Not after what he did to the mayor."
"That wasn't him," Emma ground out, feeling the childlike urge to stamp her foot in frustration. She restrained herself.
"It has to have been," Ashley said. "The mayor said she saw him. She remembers."
"Why is everyone so quick to believe her?" Emma asked.
"She's our mayor," Ashley said, as though it should be obvious. "We trust her. She takes care of us."
"Ashley –"
"Even if there was some slim chance she could be mistaken, no jury in this town will ever believe it. As long as she's saying that it's him, your husband doesn't have a chance. I'm sorry." She did look as though she really was sorry, not that it stopped her from closing the door in Emma's face.
The whole town had turned on her. Everyone she had helped since getting here, every friend she thought she made … they were all loyal to the mayor.
Ashley had said that it was the mayor's word against hers, and if that was the case, there was only one person who could clear this up and prove Neal's innocence.
"I guess I'd better go talk to the mayor."
"It's time for bed, Henry," his grandfather said.
"But mom isn't home," Henry said. He'd been sitting up with the book in his lap for hours now, waiting.
"I know," his grandfather said. "And I am, of course, concerned, but you're a growing boy, and the last thing you need to be for this conversation, is exhausted."
"But we don't know how much time –"
"Henry," his grandfather put up a hand to stop him, "you trust me, yes?"
"Of course," Henry said, because he did.
"Then trust me when I say this conversation will be better had tomorrow, after a good night's rest."
Sighing, Henry grabbed the book and headed to his room.
For the second time in 24 hours, Mary Margaret attempted to slam the door in Emma's face, only to be stopped by Emma's foot.
"I don't want to talk, Emma," Mary Margaret said.
"I'm not here for you," Emma said. "I didn't even know you would be here."
It was true. This was the Mills residence. She hadn't expected Mary Margaret at all.
"My sister is recovering from a violent attack. Of course I'm here," Mary Margaret said.
"Well, I'd like to talk to her."
Mary Margaret laughed. "You can't be serious."
"I need to know what happened, and she claims to remember my husband being responsible for her attack."
"Claims? Do you know how you sound? She's a victim in this, and you're making it sound like … like some sort of conspiracy."
"I just want to hear her side."
"Well, I doubt she wants to see you. Now, good night."
And again, Mary Margaret slammed the door in her face.
Since waking up, Maleficent had been trying to puzzle out where Zelena's vault was. She had magic hidden there, and while she hadn't been certain it would work here when she'd left it, Zelena had proven that it did.
Now, finally, thanks to the boy, she had a location. The question was how to get it. She couldn't very well go down to the asylum herself. Zelena would find out that Maleficent had been there and, even if she didn't notice the magic was gone right away, she would be suspicious about Maleficent poking around in her vault.
She could probably send Colt in exchange for letting him see Gia, but he had no legitimate reason to visit the hospital, and a clear link to her. It would only be slightly less suspicious than going herself.
No, she needed to find someone whose presence at the madhouse wouldn't be questioned, preferably someone who had sticky fingers and who wouldn't ask too many questions.
It was a shame she couldn't use the knave, as he had a past with Alice, and he was a thief. She knew firsthand that he was talented, as he had stolen from her once. Unfortunately, Zelena had his heart, which meant he was not to be trusted.
She thought back to what she knew of the patients at the hospital. There was Ivo, but his children were Zelena's loyal offspring in this land, and would be of no use to her.
Dorothy had no friends outside the asylum, excepting her recent encounters with the Stiltskin crowd. The boy did seem surprisingly skilled at slipping in places undetected. He knew too much, though. He would ask too many questions, and Maleficent couldn't risk his not returning the magic to her but keeping it for himself. Besides, if she had too much unnecessary contact with that family, it could draw Zelena's attention, and no good would come of that.
Then, there was the girl, Alice. She had a sister and a lover. The sister was a bit too entwined with Henry, and had some of the same risks he did, but the lover … He was cursed with a gambling addiction and terrible debts. If she offered to make those debts go away, he might be willing to perform a simple task for her, no questions asked. After all, who better to grant her wish than a genie?
Maleficent had no idea if this Cyrus, or Ben, as he was called in this world, had any skill when it came to stealing, but he seemed like her best option. She would visit the bar where he worked tomorrow, she decided, before turning in for the night. This time tomorrow, she would have magic.
"Who was at the door at this hour?" Zelena asked, when Mary Margaret returned to her bedside.
She had been discharged from the hospital and was now holed up in her home with David and Mary Margaret waiting on her hand and foot. While it was nice to see them doting on her, it was also a bit annoying. She had hardly had a moment to herself.
"No one," Mary Margaret said, avoiding her gaze.
"No one?" Zelena asked, her tone mocking. "It was obviously someone. Ghosts don't ring doorbells. Now, tell me."
Mary Margaret sighed. "It was Emma."
Zelena scoffed. "What did she want, then?"
"Well, I thought she was going to accost me about that blanket again, but instead, she said she wanted to speak with you. I of course told her that that was out of the question."
"What blanket?"
"Oh, um, it's not important. She approached me earlier about an old blanket of hers that … that she thought meant we were related or something. Silly, isn't it?"
Despite her blithe dismissal of Emma's claim, Zelena could tell that Mary Margaret was unsettled. "You don't believe her, do you?"
Mary Margaret gave a shaky laugh. "Of course not. Didn't I just say it was silly?"
Zelena nodded. "Could you pop into the kitchen and get me something to eat?" she asked.
Mary Margaret nodded, and after Zelena had told her what she wanted, the annoying princess left, giving Zelena time to think. The curse was working to make Mary Margaret loyal, and to make her doubt Emma, but it wasn't enough. Something was still pulling her towards her daughter.
Aside from that, Emma was asking all the right questions. It was only a matter of time until she put the pieces together and broke the curse.
No! Zelena would not allow it. She had worked too hard.
There had to be some way to take the savior out of play. Her husband's framing was meant to drive her out of town, and Zelena still planned to try and get Emma to leave, but in case that didn't work, there had to be some other way.
Thanks to Dorothy, Zelena knew that killing the girl would only break the curse, but perhaps if she were to just put her to sleep … Yes, of course, why hadn't she thought of it before? A sleeping curse!
It would use more magic than she'd like, but it would be well worth it. It did mean that she would need access to her store of magic, and that was in her vault under the asylum. She would need to find some way of retrieving it without alerting anyone.
Normally, it would be no problem, but she was on bedrest right now, and Mary Margaret and David would notice if she up and left. She could hardly let them know how uninjured and able-bodied she truly was.
The problem was that nobody knew about the magic. She couldn't just send someone to get it for her without letting them know what it was they were retrieving, and that was out of the question. Maleficent would love to get her hands on it, Zelena was certain.
She needed someone utterly loyal to her, someone who wouldn't ask questions. Seeing no other option, she phoned her love-sick assistant and told him to come to her house. She had a job for him.
"Well, would you look at that," Zelena cooed to Edward through his heart. "Your precious Princess Snow prefers to marry a low-born shepherd over you."
She had sent him to end his engagement, planning to watch as he made it known that he did not want Leopold's daughter, but how much sweeter was it that Leopold's daughter did not want him. She was willing to go against her family and tradition, to wed someone with origins and humble as Zelena's own, and she could hear through Edward's heart, as the princess and her shepherd asked her parents' permission to court properly.
A part of Zelena relished the irony, but another part of her couldn't help the spark of envy and sorrow. Why was it that Princess Snow thought highly enough of her lover that she was willing to risk everything, and Edward didn't think Zelena was worth risking anything for?
It was so clear to her now. His interest had only ever been in using her power to bolster his own. Well, she would make him nothing. She would grind him down, both in the eyes of the public, and of his father, whose good opinion he valued so.
"Perhaps instead of breaking off the engagement, I should simply have you make a public scene. I could have you storm into the room in a rage, perhaps even kill Leopold and Snow with witnesses, and then let you rot in prison."
"I'm already in prison," Edward hissed.
She could hear him, of course. She was observing the whole thing through his heart.
"True," she said. "I do control you, but only we know that. The others still think of you as important."
"Did it not occur to you," he asked, "that I'd be more useful if people thought I was important?"
"Useful how?" Zelena asked. "All I require from you is suffering."
"But it's not just my suffering you want, is it?" he asked. "You want respect. You want revenge. You want to be raised up while others are brought low. How can you possibly get that if you're hiding in the shadows and your puppet is in prison?"
He did make a good point. "What do you propose?"
"Have me attack them disguised as something else. A … a creature of some sort that they won't recognize. Kill them all if you like, but don't let them know it was me who did it."
"So, you keep your reputation? That does nothing for me."
"It could," he said. "It could make you queen."
"Are you reconsidering marrying me?" She could have forced him, given that she had his heart, but she didn't want him like that. If he wasn't with her because he loved her, she didn't want to be with him. Despite herself, she loved him still.
But he hesitated, and Zelena could feel his fear in the way his heart sped up. "I see," she said. "Well then, I –"
"No, wait! Hear me out. It's not just me you hate and want to punish. You hate King Leopold for not marrying your mother when she was pregnant with you. You hate Princess Snow for being raised by the loving father that should have been yours –"
"And because you wanted to marry her over me. Don't forget that bit." She wasn't going to let him off easily, nor let him forget that he was the villain of the piece. He wasn't wrong though, and she cursed herself for having confided so much in him during their short time together.
"Yes, yes. She was born a royal, as was I, as were her parents. And Queen Eva, wasn't she responsible for King Leopold discarding your mother?"
"True," Zelena said.
"So, take her place. It was your mother who should have been queen of this kingdom; it is you who should be its heir."
"And how exactly do you suggest I do that?"
"Disguise me, as I said, and have me kill the king and queen. Then, disguise yourself as Queen Eva, so that you can take her place on the throne."
"And Snow White?"
"That's the best part. We'll frame her for the murder of her father. All anybody will see is that someone flew into a rage and killed them, someone magical. You said your father cast you out because he thought magic made you wicked. What if people thought the same of Princess Snow? That she had magic, and when her parents denied her the right to marry the man she loved, she turned into a creature and tried to kill them? And I, the valiant prince, saved the queen's life by fighting the beast."
Edward made some good points. After all, the only witnesses would be Snow and her shepherd. Nobody would believe them over Edward and 'Queen Eva'. And how delicious for Princess Snow to not only lose her father, but to also be rejected and cast out by those who she believed loved her.
It was, in fact, so brilliant and poetic a plan that Zelena was almost angry she hadn't thought of it herself.
Now, the question became, what to turn him into? A wolf, perhaps? No, there had to be something more creative. She glanced around Edwards's bedchamber, where she sat controlling him from (she would need a better place to work out of in the future, but this would do for now). Her eyes alighted on a stuffed monkey that sat on his bed. "What is this?" she asked, picking it up. "Some trinket for Prince Edward to hug as he falls asleep?"
"My mother gave me that, before …"
He trailed off. Edward had never really talked to her of his mother. In retrospect, he had confided very little, preferring to hear her tell him about herself. At the time, she'd thought it was because he loved her and wanted to know her completely. She now knew that it was not because he'd cared for her, but because he'd planned to use the information to control her.
"And you play with it still?"
"When I was young, I would imagine that it could fly, that it would grow large, and fly me back to my mother's arms."
"A flying monkey?" Zelena asked. "What a tremendously wicked idea. I believe I know what to turn you into, dear Edward, and as I just heard the king and queen give permission to their daughter to marry the shepherd, it is time for you to make your entrance."
Aria had tried to put the odd, glowing red object out of her mind, and she felt she was doing a good job of it. She had almost forgotten it, and she might have forgotten it completely, if she hadn't heard voices coming from the closet where it was hidden.
Unable to curb her curiosity, she went to the closet, removed the box from underneath the linens, and opened it up.
The voices were those of her husband and the mayor! She knew that her husband had gone in to work a short while ago and now, it seemed she could hear the conversation he was having with his employer.
Perhaps it was some sort of listening device?
She held it up to her ear to hear better what they were saying.
"So you see," she heard the mayor say, "I can't very well just walk into the asylum myself, but there is something there that I need."
"And you want me to get it for you?" she heard Jack ask.
"No," the mayor said, "You wouldn't know what to look for. No, I just need you to make sure nobody notices that I'm gone. Stay here and guard the door. Tell my family that I've insisted on not being disturbed and keep them out of this room until I return."
"But why can't they know where you're going, then?"
"Are you questioning me?" the mayor asked.
"No, I just –"
"I don't pay you to question me. I pay for obedience, for loyalty. Besides, I thought you would do anything for me?"
Her tone was almost flirtatious. Did the mayor know how Jack felt about her? Was she using that to manipulate him? Aria had always thought that the mayor was just clueless, but if she was encouraging him, using him … it made Aria's stomach turn.
"O'course I would," Jack said, though, surprisingly, he didn't sound sure.
"Good. Then do this for me."
"Oh, I wish you would just stand up to her, Jack," Aria said. "Just tell her to fuck off."
"Fuck off," Jack said.
Wait, what? Had she heard that right? Did he just say …?
"I beg your pardon?" the mayor asked, sounding completely taken aback.
"I … I don't know why I said that," Jack said.
Because I told you to, Aria thought, her hand going to her mouth in shock. It was a crazy thought, and yet … she had told him to say it, and then he had, without even being around to hear her.
She looked at the object in her hand, and her mind went back to her time with Henry. He had shown her his book, the book she had given him, the one that she somehow knew was important without knowing how she knew it.
There were stories in it of an evil queen who ripped out people's hearts, and when she held them, she could monitor the person and listen in on their conversations, and when she told the person what to do when holding their heart, they would do it.
This was ridiculous, she told herself. It was just a storybook, a work of fiction. A person couldn't live without their heart in their chest. She wasn't holding her husband's heart in her hand. She couldn't control him. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
She needed to test it. She needed to know.
"See that you never say anything like that again," she heard the mayor say, "Now, are you going to help me?"
"Jack," Aria said, "tell her that you need to leave. You have to get home to your wife. Then come home and wait for me."
"I need to leave," she heard him say. "I need to go home to me wife."
"You will not," the mayor said. "You will stay right here and do as I say, as you always have."
"I can't," he said. "I have to get home to Aria. I'm sorry."
She heard the mayor calling after him, heard the opening and closing of a door, and heard the mayor's voice getting quieter and quieter until it all but disappeared.
There was no time to waste. He would be home soon, and there was something she needed before the two of them talked.
She put the … heart … back into its box and hid it in her largest purse before heading out the door.
The Rabbit Hole was a disgusting bar. The floor was sticky, and the flickering of the dim lights was giving Maleficent a headache. She would never have been here if she didn't have to be.
No matter. She did have to be.
"Be with you in a moment," the bartender said.
He was handsome in a traditional sort of way. Maleficent could see what Alice saw in him.
She waited patiently for him to approach her and put on a charming smile in response to his query, "What do you wish to drink?"
A bit on the nose for a genie, but then, it wasn't as though he remembered he was a genie.
"I have a job for you," she said, seeing no reason to waste her time with pleasantries.
He scrunched his eyebrows. "I have a job," he said, motioning to his surroundings. "I'm afraid that all I can do for you is take your order. So, what will it be?"
"You have debt, correct? From gambling and poor at card-playing?"
His eyes widened. "Who -?"
"It's common knowledge," she said. "It is also common knowledge that I am somewhat well off. I would be willing to help you pay off your debts, if you would be willing to do something for me."
He cleared his throat. "All right then. What is your wish?"
Maleficent smiled.
It was almost a good thing that her assistant had refused her; her children were far better equipped to keep David and Mary Margaret from her room. Still, it concerned her that Jack had been able to be so… brazen and cold with her. Perhaps, it was a sign of the curse breaking?
Well, she hadn't the time to think about that right now. She had a sleeping curse to prepare. It was she, after all, who had taken Maleficent's recipe, which required someone to willingly prick themselves on a needle, and found a way to make it ingestible. While Zelena admired Mal for finding a way to get not one, but two women to prick themselves, it was just so much easier to give someone an apple and invite them to eat it. Less suspicious, which worked for her purposes.
Of course, the last time that Zelena had given someone an apple with a sleeping curse in it, the annoying snowflake had been awakened by True Love's Kiss, but Zelena wasn't worried about that happening this time. You needed magic for True Love's Kiss, and this was the Land without Magic. The only magic that existed here was that which she had hidden away in this very vault, and was using to cook up a potion that she would find some way to get the Savior to eat.
It wouldn't be as easy as it had been with Snow White. Emma Stiltskin did not like her, and she could hardly morph into the girl's mother.
That gave her an idea though. She would poison the apple, she would bake it into a pastry, but there was no reason for her to be the one to give it to the Savior. Perhaps, once again, a naïve young woman would trust the food that her mother provided for her.
Looking at the heart the Huntsman had given her made Zelena furious. She should have had Edward kill Snow White along with her parents, but instead she had listened to him. She'd let him convince her that torturing the girl a bit first would make it all the sweeter. And it had been, until the man who was meant to kill Snow had let her get away.
At first, she'd thought maybe he was just afraid of her wrath, that Snow had somehow outwitted him, and that that was why he brought her the animal heart. It didn't make any sense though. Snow was a spoiled princess, basically helpless without her bodyguards. She couldn't outwit a skilled huntsman.
Perhaps she should have been more suspicious when he had volunteered for the job of killing the girl. She had checked his credentials, and he had not seemed to have much love for humans, but now she questioned his loyalties
Luckily, the fake heart wasn't the only one in her possession. She now had the Huntsman's heart as well, and it made questioning him so much easier.
Apparently, he had a history with Snow White's shepherd lover, and that had been enough incentive for him to infiltrate her forces and save the girl. How dared he? He had also taught the shepherd a thing or two about surviving in the woods, which would make it easier for the girl to hide.
Cooling her fury, Zelena reminded herself that she still had the ultimate weapon; she had the kingdom's trust. Queen Eva had been beloved, and now everyone thought she was the queen. If only they knew what Eva was really capable of.
It was nice to be beloved, but it was a hollow victory. These people didn't love Zelena, they loved Eva. In time, she could perhaps plant herself in the palace, say she was an illegitimate daughter whom Eva was choosing to acknowledge as her heir. Then, she could be herself.
But she still needed to get Snow out of the way.
Some time ago, her teacher Maleficent had given her permission to play with her sleeping curse recipe. The trick would be getting Snow to eat it, but that would be no trick at all, really. Snow would be thrilled to see Eva, to know that the queen still loved her and forgave her, and who wouldn't trust a gift from their own mother?
"There was a boy here," Lydia was saying. "Or, not a boy, a man. He seemed … familiar. But I hardly know up from down these days, do I?"
Ben nodded, not saying anything, his leg shaking nervously.
"Are you listening?" Lydia asked, and when he didn't reply, she grabbed his leg and held it still.
"I'm sorry, Lydia," he said. "I'm just distracted."
He hated using her like this. He loved her still, despite how hard it was to see her like this. It was why he kept away more than he should, as ashamed as he was of it. He needed to be here today, though, and he needed her as an excuse for being here. He had a job to do.
"I know it's hard," Lydia said. "I know I'm not quite the girl you fell in love with anymore. It must be difficult," she was starting to tear up, and Ben felt a knot form in his stomach at the sight. "It's just … I don't always remember who I am, my family… Things get fuzzy, and I get confused … but I always remember you. Or, at least, when I see you I … I don't need proof that I love you. I can feel it. I feel you here with me, and the little bit of me that's still sane belongs to you."
Ben grabbed her hands and gave them each a reassuring squeeze. Then, he let one go and reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She leaned into his touch.
"I always want to be someone you can come home to," he said.
"But you wish I would come home faster," she laughed through her tears. "I do as well. I'd give anything to remember who I was; to have things make sense all the time. It just … It seems like too much to hope for. I can barely remember a time I wasn't in hospital."
Ben nodded. "Me either. But there was a time, before your parents died. There was a time when we were happy, and in love. We were going to get married. Do you remember?"
Lydia scrunched her face up, concentrating. "I think … I think I remember you proposing. I … I said yes, I know that much."
"We will marry one day, I promise. I want to pledge my love to you for all to see. And in the meantime, I will look after your sister for you."
Lydia gave a sad smile. "I wish I felt the same bond with her as I do with you. Sometimes, I wonder if she is even really my sister, and I can see that it hurts her when I do."
"Of course she's your sister," Ben said. "Who else would she be?"
"I know," Lydia said. "It's just, I don't feel it, like I do with you. Does that make sense?"
It didn't, but Ben nodded all the same. "I need to go talk to the doctors," he said. "I'll come see you again soon."
"Please do," Lydia said, not quite letting go of his hand. "When you're here, things make more sense."
He gave her his best smile, kissed her forehead, and left the room.
It hurt so much, having her not remember him, having her talk gibberish, especially when she didn't take her meds. Today, she clearly had taken them. She was more present, and she knew him, and called him by his proper name.
Still, she wasn't completely there, and he hated having to be strong for her. He wasn't a strong man. He was terribly weak. It was why he resented looking after Paige, even though he shouldn't. It was why he didn't visit Lydia as much as he should. It was why, though he couldn't help losing his shirt at cards, he still kept going back and gambling away all he had, knowing he wouldn't win and unable to stop. And it was why he had used his girlfriend to sneak into a high-security building to steal a bottle from an underground vault so that someone would pay off his debts.
He wasn't a thief by trade. He didn't really know how he would pull this off, frankly, but what choice did he have?
It was surprisingly easy to find the vault, though Dr. Drake had told him what to look for, so perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. The bottle she wanted was also right where she said it would be. It appeared to be some sort of lava lamp, and it glowed a little. There was something familiar to the feel of it, but it didn't really matter what it was. This bottle was the key to his freedom. That was all that mattered. All he had to do was deliver it to the good doctor, and it would all be over. No more debt. He would give up cards, be there for Paige and Lydia. Perhaps he could be strong after all.
"Aria!" Henry said, happy to see his friend waiting for him as he got out of school. "What are you doing here?"
"It's good to see you Henry," she said. "I was hoping … well, you've done so much for me, but I was hoping I could ask you a favor?"
"Sure," Henry said.
"Could I perhaps borrow that book I gave you, just for a little while? I'd give it back when I was done, of course."
Henry shook his head. "I don't think so," he said.
Aria's face fell, and Henry felt bad. It was just that he didn't want to let the book out of his sight. It was too dangerous. Besides, it was time to show it to his mom. He couldn't risk something happening to it. "What do you need it for?"
"Oh, it probably doesn't matter," Aria said, but he could tell she was lying.
"If it didn't matter, you wouldn't have come to my school to ask."
"You'll think I'm crazy," Aria said.
"Well, now you have to tell me," Henry said, his eyes brightening and heart speeding up. Could she know?
Aria let out a sigh. "I found something and … and it reminded me of something in your book. Except… it shouldn't exist. It couldn't exist without …"
"Magic?" Henry asked, his face lighting up.
"I know how it sounds," Aria said.
"So do I," Henry said. "And I think we need to take a look right away. I can't give you the book, or, what I mean is, I can't part with it. I need to know where it is, but what if I came with you? I could show you the book, and you could show me what it is you've found?" Henry asked hopefully. When Aria hesitated, he added, "I promise I won't think you're crazy. You can trust me."
Finally, Aria nodded, and Henry did a fist pump in the air, making her laugh. "So, where is the thing you found?"
"At my house," Aria said. "Do we need to stop at yours to get the book?"
Henry shook his head. "I always have it with me," he said, tapping his backpack. "I just need to text my grandpa, "
"Will he worry that you're going off with a stranger?"
"You're not a stranger; you're my friend," Henry said, which was exactly what he was texting his grandfather: that he was going to a friend's house. His grandfather would probably assume he meant Paige. He wasn't lying, but it was probably best if his grandfather didn't know he was going to an adult's house without him. After shooting off the text, he looked up at Aria, smiling. "Lead the way," he said, before falling into step behind her as she headed to her home.
Emma was incredibly frustrated when she got home. Every time she had tried to talk to the mayor today, whether in person or by phone, she'd been stonewalled by either Mary Margaret or David.
"No luck with Mr. Langland?" her father-in-law asked, when he saw her fuming.
"I gave up on him hours ago," she said.
"Oh?" he asked.
It was a loaded 'oh', and Emma resented the implication. "I haven't given up on getting Neal off. It's all I'm thinking about. But given how this town worships the mayor, with her claiming she saw him, nobody will listen. Not unless I can find out why she's lying and get her to change her story."
"I see," he said. "So, you've been trying to speak with her?"
"'Trying' being the operative word. Her family is keeping her under strict supervision while she recuperates, and neither David nor Mary Margaret will let me anywhere near her."
"Yes, and I imagine that stings with regard to Mary Margaret, all things considered."
Emma shook her head. "Not this again."
"Not what again?"
"Don't play innocent," she said. "I know you too well. I followed the lead on a possible familial connection, and it was a dead end."
"Was it?"
"Dead enough. Look, if there is any relationship, it doesn't matter. She wants nothing to do with me, and I lost a whole day trying to prove that I'm related to someone who doesn't want me, when I could have been helping Neal. You, Neal, Henry, you guys love me. That's what matters. I'm done trying to connect with anyone else. This town might not care about me, but Neal and me… we matter to each other, and I am going to fight like hell for him. That's where all my energy is going. Nowhere else. After all these years, I'm finally willing to let it go. I don't need a mother or a father or a sister; I have a husband and a son. And I have a father," she said, giving him a warm look. "That's enough. It's more than enough. I never should have forgotten that. From now on, I'm fighting for my real family."
Mary Margaret was just finishing up with the apple tarts her sister had asked her to bake when her phone rang. For a minute, she thought it might be Emma, but dismissed the notion. Surely Emma had given up by now.
And yet, when she saw it was the clinic calling, not Emma, a small irrational part of her felt disappointed.
"Hello?" she said, putting the phone on speaker so that she could continue baking.
"Ms. Blanchard? This is Dr. Drake. I'm calling to follow up with you on your procedure."
Mary Margaret's heart lurched a bit, as it did every time she thought of that procedure. It was the right choice. She knew it was. But something in her still reacted in a way that she couldn't explain.
"I'm feeling fine," she said. "I'm back on my feet and everything."
"Be that as it may, something came back in your test results that I think we should discuss."
"Is something wrong?" Mary Margaret asked, her heartbeat speeding up.
"It's something best discussed in person," Dr. Drake said ominously.
"Well, I have to finish up some things –"
"I'm afraid this can't wait. It's quite urgent. I'll expect you within the hour."
When they got to Aria's home, Henry was surprised to see a man sitting on her couch, waiting.
"I remember you," he said. "You chased after me and tried to get my book."
Henry turned to Aria. "You can't trust him. He works for the mayor. He can't know –"
"It's okay, Henry," Aria said. "He's my husband, and … and I don't think he's as loyal to the mayor as he used to be. He told her to, well, to do something rather crude today."
"How do ya' know that?" her husband asked.
Aria gave him an awkward smile. "It's good you're both here. You both need to see this."
She brought out a box that looked rather familiar to Henry.
"You got that from the Evil Queen's vault!" he said, excited.
"The Evil what?" her husband asked.
Aria shook her head and opened the box. Henry had a feeling he knew what she would take out, and sure enough, it was a heart, just like in the book.
"Henry, show me the part in the book where it talks about the Queen taking people's hearts?" she asked.
"Taking hearts?" her husband asked. "Is that a metaphor or something?"
"I'm afraid it's quite literal," Aria said. "I controlled you with this today, Jack. And I think … I think that someone has been controlling you for some time. I'm not sure who, but I have a theory. Because if I were an evil queen and I cast a curse to create a town, I would make myself the most powerful person in it, and, well, there's only one person that could be."
Henry nodded, getting excited. "Exactly! It's the mayor. She's the Evil Queen. She cursed everyone and –"
"Hang on now," Jack said. "Have you both gone completely crackbrained? Talking about curses and hearts like that nutter girl. What, did what she gave me have some sort of contagion? Are you all nutters, too, now?"
"Hey!" Henry said. He did not like this man.
"Jack," Aria interrupted, "Today, when you spoke with the mayor, when she asked you to go get something from the asylum, why did you tell her to …" She glanced at Henry, and then whispered something to him that Henry couldn't hear. Grownups, Henry thought. They thought he couldn't handle anything.
Jack kind of just stared at Aria for a moment, "How … how do ya know that that happened? You weren't there, and I never got the chance to tell you –"
"I heard you," Aria said, holding up the heart. "I heard you both, through this."
Jack looked at the heart. "So, what, it's some sort of bugging device, then?"
Aria shook her head. "Jack, I told you what to say to her, and you said it."
Henry shot her a shocked look, and Aria looked down sheepishly. "I didn't control you on purpose. I didn't know what was happening, and then –"
"Control me?" Jack said, "Nobody can –"
"I suppose I'll have to show you," Aria said, holding up the heart. She flashed an apologetic smile at Jack, and spoke into it. "Punch yourself in the face. Hard."
And he did. "Bloody hell!" Jack said, through his bloody nose, "How? What?"
"You see," Aria said. "How else can you explain that?"
Jack shook his head. "I can't, but –"
"I could order you to believe me, but … But I'd rather you trust me."
Jack was quiet for a minute. Then he said, "Well, this clearly goes beyond mind controlling nightlight bugs, what with all you were saying before about curses and evil queens so … so, why don't you start at the beginning, and I'll try to keep an open mind?"
Aria smiled. "Henry, may I have your book now?"
"The tarts are done," Mary Margaret said. "And I'll call David from the car and tell him to come home, so you won't be alone. I'm sorry, but I … I need to go on an errand. I won't be long, I promise."
"Wait," her sister said. "I'd like you to do me a favor before you go."
"Of course," Mary Margaret said.
"Call Emma Stiltskin and tell her to come over here; tell her that I'm ready to talk," she said.
Mary Margaret's jaw dropped. "What? Why?"
"She's been trying to talk to me, and I think it's time I hear what she has to say."
"But … what if she hurts you?"
"It was her husband who hurt me," her sister said. "I'm sure I can be alone with her for a bit without any harm coming to me."
"You are so good and trusting," Mary Margaret said fondly.
"Well, you kill more flies with honey than with vinegar," her sister said.
"Catch, not kill," Mary Margaret said reflexively.
"Of course. My mistake. In any case, can you make the call?"
Mary Margaret nodded. "Of course."
"And be sure to let her know about the tarts you made. We can snack on them as we gab."
"I'll offer her one," Mary Margaret said.
"Splendid. On your way, then."
Her sister was so kind and forgiving. How had she ever started to doubt … It was Emma. Emma had gotten in her head. Of course, it was also Emma that her sister wanted to forgive. Well, she could extend the olive branch for her sister without forgiving Emma herself.
She wasn't surprised when her former friend picked up on the first ring, "Mary Margaret?"
"Yes, Emma, it's me."
"I wasn't expecting –"
"I'm not calling on my own behalf," she said quickly. "My sister wants to speak with you. She said you should come over. And I hope you appreciate how kind she's being, hearing you out like this, after everything."
"I –"
"I won't be there, because I have to run an errand, but I made some apple tarts and left them on the counter. Feel free to help yourself when you get there."
She hung up the phone before Emma could say anything else. Having done her sisterly duty, she started for the clinic.
David was asleep. He was a heavy sleeper. Snow, however, had barely slept since they had gone on the run. She needed to be alert, ready to run at any given moment.
It had been months of running. Months of living off the land, in fear of the queen's men finding her.
No, not the queen. Her mother. Her mother was having her hunted. How had this happened?
Giving David a peck on the cheek (he smiled in his sleep at the contact but didn't wake up), Snow headed out to check the traps. They were running low on food, and they needed to restock.
She was hungry, and they said not to hunt and gather on an empty stomach, but she couldn't sleep, and the sun was almost up. Hunting seemed like a good use of her time.
She was checking the traps when she heard a twig snap behind her. Quickly, she drew her bow and aimed it toward the noise. "Who's there?" she asked, scanning the area with her eyes.
"Don't be afraid," replied a voice she knew as well as her own.
Sure enough, her mother emerged from the trees, dressed in simple peasant clothing.
Snow wanted to run into her mother's arms and cry as her mother smoothed her hair, but something stopped her. She lowered her bow, but she didn't take a step toward her mother. She couldn't. Not yet. Not until she understood.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Why are you dressed like that?"
"I had to sneak out of the palace," her mother said.
"Why?" Snow asked.
"Because they wouldn't let me leave."
"Who wouldn't let you leave?"
"King George and his offspring. I believe they want you dead; they would not like my meeting with you."
"I was told … I thought you sent the huntsman to kill me because you thought I had killed Father. I thought you wanted me dead."
Her mother looked wounded. "Snow, I would never do such a thing," she said, putting her hand to her heart. "I was devastated when your father died, and they told me you had also been killed. I believed it, allying myself with King George in order to help the kingdom. I was so … distraught about my loss, I didn't notice that they were taking the power out from under me until it was too late. Then, I heard a rumor that you were still alive, but they didn't want me to look for you. So, I dressed as a peasant and came to find you."
"You believe me?" Snow said, tears in her eyes. "You never thought I killed father?"
"My beautiful Snow, how could I? I know you, and you have a pure heart. You loved your father. You would never harm him."
Snow did run into her mother's arms then, and her mother held her and stroked her hair while she made soothing shushing noises. "My pretty daughter," her mother said. "We'll make it right. Have no fear."
After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Snow stepped back from her mother and wiped at her face. "I know we will," she said. "Together, we'll take back the kingdom."
"But look at you," her mother said. "You're skin and bones. What have you been living off of out here?"
"Oh, I've learned to forage and hunt," Snow said. "I remember my archery lessons from Hercules, and David has lived off the land before. We've made do."
"When did you last eat?" her mother asked.
"Oh, some hours ago," Snow said.
"There's no need to be brave," her mother said. "Mother's here now. Let me take care of you." She reached into a satchel that Snow hadn't noticed she was carrying and took out an apple. "Here. Eat this."
"An apple?" she asked. "That's hardly filling. I'm sure I can catch some –"
"Indulge your mother, please," her mother said. "I haven't been able to care for you these long months. Let me feed you now."
Snow smiled. "All right then," she said, accepting the apple. She took a bite, and felt a sudden rush of pain throughout her body.
"There, there," her mother said, except, it wasn't her mother. Where her mother had stood, there was now another woman, a woman with red hair, pale skin, and a cruel smile.
"Who are you?" Snow asked. "What -?"
The woman cackled. "Did you really think your mommy was going to come and save you? Nobody can save you now."
The woman's gloating face was the last thing Snow saw before she collapsed.
Mary Margaret had already worked herself into a panic by the time she had reached the clinic, and now that Dr. Drake refused to tell her what was wrong, she felt ready to throttle the woman.
"My sister was recently attacked. She's recovering, and I left her alone because you said it was urgent. Now what was it that you couldn't tell me over the phone?"
"You seem stressed," Dr. Drake said. "Here. Have some tea."
"Tea?" Mary Margaret said, slapping the cup away. "I don't want tea; I want answers. What is wrong with me?"
"The tea will help, and I won't tell you a single thing until you stop behaving like a child and drink it."
"This is highly unprofessional," Mary Margaret said, starting to get up to leave.
"If you leave without drinking the tea, you'll never know the truth."
"So, I'm just supposed to ingest something because some woman told me to?"
"It wouldn't be the first time," Dr. Drake said with a knowing smile.
Mary Margaret wanted to smack her, but it seemed she wasn't going to get any answers until she drank the tea. "It's not poisoned or something, is it?"
"If I poisoned the mayor's sister, there'd be hell to pay," Dr. Drake said.
Sighing, Mary Margaret took one sip, then another. It tasted good; a little sweet and a little bitter at the same time.
The images began filling her head in a rush: her parents, raising her to be queen, meeting Hercules and going on adventures with him and Megara, the ogre war, being sent away for her own safety, meeting David and James, living on their farm, falling in love, asking her parents for their permission, their murder, being on the run, the Evil Queen, defeating the Evil Queen, getting married, getting pregnant, the curse, giving birth to … "Emma."
And then Snow White, for she now remembered that she was Snow White, ran through the other images in her brain. She remembered meeting the stranger, Emma Stiltskin, who she now knew must be her daughter. Her beautiful daughter, all grown up, with a family of her own.
She had missed it. She had missed all of it. Her daughter had grown up, had her own life, and was a kind woman who would uproot that life to help out a few strangers.
She had been a friend to Mary Margaret … until Mary Margaret had shut her out. She had slammed the door on her daughter out of loyalty to the Evil Queen. What kind of mother was she?
"Are you all right?" Dr. Drake, or Maleficent, as she now remembered, asked. "It was quite a lot for me when I woke up; took a moment to adjust."
"But … but how? Is the curse -?"
"The curse is still very much intact. Only your daughter can break that. However, I was able to attain just enough magic to awaken you."
"But why would you do that?"
"Because it was necessary. Of all the people in this town, you may be the only one who can reach your daughter before it is too late."
"Too late? What …?" and then she remembered something else, from earlier that day. How the woman who she had at the time thought was her sister, how the Evil Queen had bade her to make her famous apple tart recipe and invite Emma over, encouraging her to eat the tarts. And Snow had done it. She had called Emma and …
"I have to go," Snow said. "I have to get there in time. If I don't… No, she won't take my daughter from me. Not again."
She rushed out the door without sparing Maleficent a backwards glance. She could only hope that she wasn't too late.
After Henry had filled Jack in (with some aid from his book), he had insisted they take what was apparently truly Jack's heart back with him to his house.
"My mom will have no choice but to believe if we show her that!" he'd said.
Aria was a tad skeptical. She and Jack knew that the heart made him do things out of character, but Emma might think they were playing a prank on her. The three of them weren't exactly on good terms.
Shame filled Aria, as she remembered how she had dismissed Emma's plea for her to go public about her husband. She didn't want Jack to pay for crimes he hadn't committed. All she knew for sure was that he used to hit her, and the heart in her hand made her think that it might not have been his choice at all. Still, if the mayor was this 'Evil Queen', determined to drive Emma and her family out of Storybrooke, it would stand to reason that Emma's husband was being framed.
Maybe she couldn't help get the charges dropped, but she could be kind to Emma. Emma had been kind to her when they hadn't even known each other, and when Emma had come to her for help, she had been callous and cruel.
To distract herself from her self-hatred, Aria read more of the book. Jack was driving, so she had her hands free, and it really was a fascinating read. She would probably have liked it, even if it wasn't all true.
When they arrived at Henry's home, the three of them hurried out of the car and onto the Stiltskin's front porch.
"You gonna open the door, mate?" Jack asked.
"I don't have a key," Henry said. When Aria shot him a curious look, he elaborated. "I was at school, and my grandfather was going to pick me up, so I wouldn't need one. If they gave me a key, it would be an excuse for me to go out on my own. They don't like that."
"Well, I suppose it's nice to be looked after and cared for," Aria said, before rapping her knuckles on the door a few times.
There was the noise of footsteps, and some shuffling. Then, an older man with a cane answered the door. His eyes widened when he saw them, and then locked with hers in a gaze she couldn't look away from.
"Belle?"
"Thank you for coming," Mayor Mills said with her sickly-sweet smile.
"Thanks for agreeing to see me," Emma said, trying not to grit her teeth.
She didn't trust this woman, but you caught more flies with honey than vinegar. Maybe there was a perfectly good reason why the mayor thought that Neal had attacked her. If so, Emma should hear her out, validate her, and then explain that she was wrong.
If it was more nefarious than that … well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.
"It seemed like time the two of us spoke plainly," Mayor Mills said.
"Right," Emma said. "Well, let me start by saying that I'm sorry you were attacked, and I'm glad that you are okay."
"How diplomatic of you," Mayor Mills said.
"And I'd like to ask why you think it was my husband who attacked you?"
"Because it was."
"See, I don't think so," Emma said.
"I don't care very much what you think," Mayor Mills said. "I was brutalized. Women in my town are being attacked left and right, and it all began when your little family came to town."
"Correlation isn't causation," Emma said. "I know the timing is suspicious, but –"
"Mrs. Stiltskin, I have no interest in hearing you defend your husband. You think him innocent, and I think him guilty. That is not going to change. People will not believe you, but they will believe me. That is not going to change either. As long as your family is in this town, he will be hunted down and made to pay for his crimes. But, I am not without mercy, so let me propose a deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"Leave."
"What?" Emma asked, confused.
"Leave town. Go. I don't care where, back where you came from I suppose. If your family leaves my town and my people alone, I will drop the charges. You can live out your lives freely. I don't care what you all do, as long as you do it far away from here."
"So, you think my husband is dangerous, but you don't care if he hurts people, as long as it's not in Storybrooke?"
"If he hurts someone outside Storybrooke, he will have to deal with the authorities outside of Storybrooke. That will be his burden. But perhaps he will reform himself. Either way, that is not my problem. I simply want my town safe, and that will happen whether he is locked away, or whether he is gone."
It was tempting, and yet …
"Why are you hesitating?" Mayor Mills asked. "What could possibly be keeping you here? Any friends you thought you had made have turned their back on you, have they not? Especially my sister. She wants nothing to do with you. You see those apple tarts on the kitchen counter?"
Emma glanced at the pastries. She remembered Mary Margaret mentioning on the phone that she could help herself. "Mary Margaret made them."
"She made them for me, as I am her sister. I believe she offered you some?" Emma nodded, and the mayor smiled. "That is because I asked her to. I thought it would make a lovely parting gift. She would share nothing with you, if I didn't ask her to. She doesn't care for you."
Emma continued to stare at the tarts, as she continued to mull over the mayor's words.
Then, the door burst open, and Mary Margaret came running in. "Emma, don't eat those," she said.
"You see," the mayor said. "She can't even bear to have you taste something she lovingly baked for me."
Mary Margaret stood between Emma and her sister. Her back was to Emma, and she said with a surprising amount of vehemence, "You keep away from my daughter, you evil witch!"
Wait, daughter? Emma thought. Aloud, she asked, "What's going on?"
Mary Margaret turned to her, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Emma," she said, reaching her hand out to touch Emma's face before retracting it. "This is going to be hard to explain, but I need you to know that I love you."
Emma shook her head, trying to clear it. "I feel like I missed something."
"Everything you think you know is wrong. Emma, I'm so sorry. You have no clue how sorry I am."
"I don't … What daughter?"
This time, Mary Margaret did take Emma's face in her hands. "You," she said, "You are my daughter. I am your mother."
Emma stepped out of Mary Margaret's reach. "That's not possible. You're younger than me."
"Emma –"
"Is this some kind of joke? You're teasing me because of the blanket?"
"I would never –"
"You would," Emma said. "You did a 180 on me. One minute, you were my friend, and then the next … I don't know you. And I don't know why I'm staying in this town. And if I want one of these tarts, I damn well –"
"No!" Mary Margaret said. "Emma, they're poisoned. She's trying to poison you. You can't eat that."
"Sister dear, that's quite enough of that," Mayor Mills said. "What you're doing is petty and cruel. Let the girl have a pastry and go home to her family."
Mary Margaret looked between the two of them, her eyes wide. "I'll prove it," she said. "I'll prove it."
She grabbed a tart, and before Emma or the mayor could move, she took a bite. A minute later, she collapsed.
Poisoned. Mary Margaret had said the tarts were poisoned. But that was insane. Surely the mayor wouldn't …
"Oh dear," Mayor Mills said, "Well, that won't do at all."
Emma dropped down to Mary Margaret's side, "Mary Margaret," she said, frantically, shaking the woman. "Mary Margaret!"
This couldn't be happening. Nothing made sense right now, and all Emma knew was that she didn't want her friend to die.
"What is going on in here?" a voice said.
Both women looked up to see David, coming in with the children. When he saw Mary Margaret on the floor, his face went white. "What happened?"
"Emma attacked her," Mayor Mills said.
"What? I didn't –"
"How dare you?" David demanded. "How dare you come into my home and attack my sister-in-law, days after your husband attacked my wife!"
"I didn't …" Emma shook her head. "It doesn't matter right now. We need to call for help!"
"What a splendid idea," Mayor Mills said. "We'll have them lock you away –"
"I meant the hospital," Emma spat over her shoulder. "Your sister could be dying and all you can think about is locking me away?"
"Well, that's the wonderful thing about 911; it will bring the cops and the ambulance. They'll help her and arrest you."
"They'll figure out I didn't attack her," Emma said. "They'll do a toxicology exam, and it will find –"
"Nothing," Mayor Mills said. "It will find absolutely nothing. And even if it did, nobody would believe I was behind it. Haven't you learned yet Emma? This is my town, and you made a mistake stepping into it. You should have taken my deal, but it's too late now. You will never leave my town, and as long as you're in it, there is not a move you will be able to make against me. The only power, the only control, the only law here, is mine."
In almost no time at all, the sheriff arrived. Emma begged him to believe that she hadn't done this. She begged him to let her go to the hospital with Mary Margaret. She just needed to know that her friend was okay. That was all. Then she would come quietly, she promised.
It fell on deaf ears. Like a man possessed, Graham locked cuffs on her and escorted into a squad car. The last thing she saw as the car pulled out of the driveway was Mary Margaret being loaded onto a stretcher, the mayor standing behind her with a wicked grin on her face. Emma wasn't sure what game the mayor was playing, but she seemed to think that she had won.