— Studying up on current events?
Henry looked up, and Emma could see that he was very worried.
— What is it?
— You haven’t seen it, have you?
She sat down in the booth and pulled the paper across the table. Her old mug shot — the one Graham had taken, and she felt a twinge of sadness as the tiny memory flitted through her mind like a little bird — but the headline was new. It read: ex-jailbird Emma Swan birthed babe behind bars.
Emma stiffened, sat upright, and picked up the paper.
— How did they do this so fast? — she muttered, scanning. The article — written by Sidney Glass — included all the details of her «possession of stolen goods» incident. Which was impossible. Or should have been impossible, anyway.
— Is it true? — Henry asked quietly. — Was I born in jail?
She looked at him over the paper and then set it down.
— It is true, — she said, — but it’s complicated. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t think that it mattered. — She sighed, picked up the paper, twisted it up. — Let’s chuck this. Come on. Let’s go out to your castle.
— It’s the same thing again, — Henry said. — Evil wins because it doesn’t have to play fair. You can’t just throw it away. It already ruined your election.
— Nothing’s ruined, — she said. — We’ll just have to adjust. — She reached across the table, took his hand. Remembering her conversation at the pawnshop, she said, — Besides, I have a new ally. Mr. Gold.
— Him? — Henry said, his eyes alight. — He’s worse than her.
— I’m not so sure about that, — Emma said. — And besides, he has some good ideas.
But Henry was inconsolable, and he retreated into himself as she tried to cheer him up. In the end he crossed his arms and shook his head.
— Good never wins, — he said again. — It just doesn’t. — He took a breath and looked up at her. — It’s like with Rumplestiltskin and his son.
Emma squinted.
— Rumplestiltskin? The Gold guy? He didn’t have a son.
Henry rolled his eyes.
— His son is only like the most important thing in his life.
— Is he? — Emma said, remembering what Archie had told her weeks ago: It’s his language. — I didn’t know that.
— He was this huge coward, before he got magic. He was like the laughingstock of his whole village. Except his son, Baelfire, really loved him and didn’t care.
Henry then told Emma the story of how Rumplestiltskin first gained power, after his hubris led him to be tricked by a wizard named Zoso, locked in a curse that had tormented him for decades. Zoso tricked Rumplestiltskin into taking the curse onto himself. It gave him powerful magic, but it interfered with his ability to feel, his ability to be human. And it made his son, Bae, fear him instead of love him.
— That’s sort of horrible, — Emma said, wondering what Henry might be trying to communicate with this particular story. She wondered if it had something to do with her new role as sheriff.
— You’re right, — Henry said. — And the worst part is, it’s just another story where good loses. Zoso is the bad guy and he wins.
— Seems sort of like Rumplestiltskin is the bad guy, though, — Emma said.
— Yeah, — Henry said. — I know. But he didn’t used to be.
Emma fumed for the rest of the afternoon and decided, after she’d closed up the office, that she had to say something to Regina.
She’d seen the paper all over town and knew everyone was reading it. And her anger wasn’t about the election or the smear campaign, not really. It was that Henry now knew something she hadn’t wanted him to know, and no one — not Regina, not Sidney Glass, not anyone — had the right to tell her secrets.
She went to Town Hall. The light was on in Regina’s upstairs office, where she’d been earlier in the day, and Emma stormed in without knocking.
Regina, startled, gasped when she looked up from her paperwork.
— Those were juvie records, — Emma said. — You had no right. I know you want Sidney to win, but you had no right.
— It’s far easier to win public elections when you haven’t been to jail, Ms. Swan. I think the people deserve to know who they’re getting for a sheriff, don’t you? It’s about Henry also. He should know the truth, too. Shouldn’t he? — Emma said nothing. Regina, already bored with the conversation, returned to her paperwork. — Besides, you can discuss this during the debate and clear up any inaccuracies. How does that sound?
— What debate?
Regina stood and put a few folders into her briefcase. «The debate. It’s tomorrow». She smiled curtly, straightened her suit, and strode past Emma and out of the office.
Emma followed.
— Nice to know that, — she said.
— You and Sidney can bicker for as long as you want, — Regina said. — The truth will come out eventually, it always does. Maybe the town will even get to hear about who you’re in bed with for this campaign. That would be interesting. — They were at the back stairwell now. Regina opened the door, and the two women went down the steps. When they came to the first-floor landing, Regina stopped and said, — Don’t you think they should know about you and Gold? — She reached for the door.
— I’m not in bed with anyone, — Emma said. — I’m fighting fire with…
Regina cried out before she could finish.
A wall of flame had greeted Regina as she pulled open the door, sending her backward into Emma, then to the ground. She fell hard against the stairs they’d just come down, and Emma, holding the railing for balance and holding her other arm up to protect her face from the heat, looked down and saw that Regina was holding her ankle. We’re both gonna burn up in here, Emma thought, but she put the thought out of her mind and knelt down beside Regina.
— Come on, — she said.
— I can’t walk, — Regina said, eyeing the flames behind Emma. — The whole building is on fire. — She locked eyes with Emma. — You have to — you have to get me out of here.
Emma, not one to hesitate, got up, and burst into the burning lobby of Town Hall, found a fire extinguisher, and started blowing frosted foam around herself and the doorway to the stairs, creating a pathway that would lead them both to safety.
She went back for Regina then, and she swore, before picking her up into her arms, that Regina seemed surprised that she’d returned. What does she think, I would leave her? Emma wondered, hoisting her rival into her arms. She carried her carefully through the burning lobby, sticking close to the path she’d sprayed.
Emma kicked open the door and saw police cars, fire trucks, and reporters clustered together in the circular driveway, all of them wide-eyed at the image before them: The sheriff coated in soot and sweat, carrying the mayor out of a burning building.
The cameras all began to flash and snap.
— Put me down, — Regina said. — Put me down.
EMTs rushed to them as Emma gently lowered Regina to the ground, panting as she did so.
— You’re complaining about how I saved your life?
— I seriously doubt you saved my life, — Regina said, pushing an oxygen mask away, scowling. — Where is Sidney? — she cried. Then, to Emma: — I doubt there was much danger.
Emma shook her head, stood, and stepped back as the authorities tended to their mayor.
There was no winning with this woman.
Emma talked with the firefighters for some time after they’d hauled Regina away to the hospital and put out the fire. Something didn’t feel right about any of it. A coincidental fire? When the two of them were there? And after she spent a few minutes snooping around in the debris, she knew exactly why it didn’t feel right. When she found the rag, she headed straight for Gold’s pawnshop.