Wilhelmina's POV
Billie had just gone to bed when I sat on the sofa watching the TV. I wasn't tired so I stayed up a little later than usual.
As Once Upon A Time ended, I nearly died. Staring at me through the screen was none other than Cordelia.
"BILLIE!!" I screamed, as she ran downstairs and into the living room.
"Is that?"
"YES!!"
We stood staring at our little girl who was all grown up and talking about her school. She was gorgeous. She liked just like Bill but with my eyebrows.
"She's perfect," Billie whispered, taking the address of the school and sitting down to look at her.
"Just like her mother," I smiled softly.
"Which one?" Billie giggled and then she was gone from the screen.
We sat in silence for a moment, before we both broke down crying. We stayed in each other's arms crying for a while.
"I miss her so much, Bill,"
"I know, me too," she sobbed, coming a little closer.
"She's safe. She's alive," I laughed, feeling a sense of calm rush over me.
"We need to see her, again," Billie said, standing up, "she probably thinks we're dead,"
"She thinks she killed us," I whispered, before we ran upstairs and packed a suitcase each.
Then my phone buzzed with an unknown number.
"Hello," I answered, Billie sat on the bed staring at me with her pretty eyes.
"Hi, Mum," a familiar voice said down the phone.
"Y/n?"
"Miss me?"
"OH MY GOD Y/N!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!"
"That's not important, did you see Cordelia?"
"Yes, sweetheart I haven't seen you for eleven years, how did you get my number?"
"Again, that's not important. Listen to me, I'm flying over to America tomorrow to look for Cordelia, what are you doing right now?"
"We're packing bags to go and find her,"
"Slow down! Wait for me to get to you and then we'll sort out a plan, we can't just show up,"
"OK, when will you be here?"
"I'm not sure, I think it would be best if we met somewhere else. I'm not ready to go back there,"
"We're at our old house sweetheart, before the bombs,"
"I know. I know that's where you are and I'm still not ready to go back," she said plainly.
"OK, how about your old house before me?"
"OK, that's where I'm staying when I come over,"
"Y/n?"
"Yes,"
"Do you forgive her?"
"Goodbye Mum," and then she hung up.
"That was y/n," I whispered to my wife, who was watching me with wide eyes.
"Is she OK?" She asked.
"I think so,"
"Does she forgive Delia?"
"No,"
