— I’m not replacing him.
— Two weeks as acting sheriff makes you sheriff, Ms. Swan. That’s what the law says.
— You don’t say, — Emma said. She wasn’t sure what she thought of the idea. Sheriff Swan.
— I also wanted to tell you that I have some of his things here, and I wondered if you might want something. — Gold stood, picked up a cardboard box on a nearby countertop, and carried it over to her. He set it down on a table and Emma saw a number of items she recognized: Graham’s leather jacket, his sunglasses, his cell phone.
— I don’t want any of that, — Emma said flatly, staring into the box. She felt a strong aversion to having Graham’s things in her possession, and the strength of the feeling surprised her. She wondered, for a moment, how Gold had come to have these items, but asking questions meant continuing to discuss Graham. She couldn’t do that right now.
— No? — Gold said casually. — How about these? He pulled two walkie-talkies from the box. — These seem to be police-issued. You don’t have use for them? Couldn’t your boy play with them, at least?
Emma sighed and took the two walkie-talkies.
— Fine, — she said. — Thank you.
— Children grow up so fast, — said Gold. — You’ll want to make as many memories as you can.
Emma looked at him. He was making that same face — something between compassionate and devious.
— Don’t I know it, — she said.
Emma found Henry sitting in his «castle» at the seashore. It was only thirty minutes before school and he was in a glum mood; he didn’t seem all that cheered up by the walkie-talkies, and he eventually just stuffed them into his backpack. She suggested they could use them to continue their Operation Cobra work, but he only looked back out at the water when she mentioned it. What had once brought a mischievous energy to his eyes now had almost no effect.
— What’s wrong? — she said, after a silence.
— I feel like we should stop Operation Cobra, — Henry said. — It seemed really fun. But now Sheriff Graham is dead.
— That had nothing at all to do with you or the curse. He had a sick heart. He’d known for a long time.
Henry turned and looked at her with grave seriousness.
— That’s not what happened, — he said. — The Queen killed him because you two were falling in love and he was her slave. And she was mad.
— I know you think that, but sometimes bad things just happen for no reason.
— That’s not true, either, — he said, growing more agitated. — She killed him because he was good, and good always loses here. And you’re good, and that means you’re going to lose.
— Good doesn’t always lose, — Emma said. — It’s just harder for good. Because good plays by more rules.
Henry seemed vaguely interested in this point, even though he still remained distracted, disconnected.
— Good has to play fair, — he said.
— You have to get it out of your head that Regina killed somebody, — Emma said. — She didn’t That’s not fair to her.
Henry smiled.
— What? — Emma said.
— You’re right, — he said. — We don’t want to make her any angrier than she is already. Right?
Emma cocked her head.
— That’s not what I meant, kid.
— I know, — Henry said. — But still.
She dropped Henry at school, then went back to the station, ready for another long day of… very little.
When she came in, her eyes went to Graham’s desk as they always did. His badge was still there. Emma imagined herself with it, imagined changing her life in this way, settling in. She went to the desk and picked the badge up.
— You won’t be needing that.
Emma turned.
Regina, arms crossed, stood in the doorway.
— The position automatically falls to me tomorrow, — Emma said. — Have I misunderstood the charter?
— It automatically falls to you if the mayor fails to appoint somebody else, — Regina said, strolling into the room, looking disdainfully at the mess on Emma’s desk. — I’m going to appoint someone else this afternoon.
— Who? — Emma said.
— Sidney Glass from the Storybrooke Daily Mirror, — she said casually. — He knows the town well. He’s been here for quite some time.
— A reporter? — Emma said. — He’s not qualified.
— Oh, I think he’ll be just fine, — Regina said, smiling. — And it’ll be a pleasure to have somebody here who is not actively working to undermine me.
— Graham picked me for a reason, Regina, — Emma said. — I know you don’t like it, but he did.
— Yes, a reason, — she said. — He wanted to sleep with you.
— That’s not true.
— Isn’t it? — Regina said. When Emma could think of nothing to say in response, Regina continued:
— Either way, it’s time for us to make a clean break. You and I both know it’s inappropriate for you to be employed by the town. You’ll have to find some other work.
— What are you saying? — Emma asked.
— I’m saying, — said Regina, taking Graham’s badge from her hands, — that you’re fired.
Emma went straight to Gold. There was something about his behavior earlier that gave her a hunch that he’d be interested in helping. He wasn’t being friendly — he didn’t have it in him to be friendly. Gold wanted her to be sheriff.
At his shop, Emma told him what Regina had done, and he nodded. This was all some kind of chess game to him, wasn’t it?
— She’s almost right, — he said, pulling a document from a cabinet behind his desk. It was old and dusty. He held it up. — The town charter, — he said with a grin. He laid it out on the counter. — Let me show you how she’s wrong.
Regina called a press conference in her office later that morning, to announce the hiring of Sidney Glass as the town’s new sheriff.
Glass, of course, was beaming for the cameras, thrilled at this promotion, always so eager to do the bidding of his beloved mayor. Emma couldn’t stand that guy.
But it wasn’t so simple, as Gold had pointed out. She stood and watched Regina’s haughty press conference for only a minute or two before she decided to make her move.
When she strode into the office, even Regina looked surprised.
— This isn’t set, — Emma said. — She can’t appoint him. We have to have an election. And I’m running.
— The mayor is entitled to…
— She isn’t, — Emma said calmly, holding up her printout of the charter. She’d highlighted the relevant passage. — She can put a candidate forward, but there has to be an election.
— Fine, Ms. Swan, — said Regina, not bothering to take the charter. — We’ll go through with the formalities. And the candidate I’ve nominated, Mr. Sidney Glass, will then be the new sheriff. — Sidney Glass, for his part, looked flummoxed by all this, but he kept up his smile for the cameras. — How’s that? — Regina said.
— Perfect, — said Emma.
The cameras all turned to her.
A few hours after she’d rained on Regina’s parade, Emma was on patrol, on foot, when she walked by the diner and saw Henry through the window. He was at a booth, alone. She smiled, seeing him there, reading what she assumed was his book of stories. But when she went inside, she realized that he was reading the newspaper, not his book.