Chapter 20 - I Had a Marvelous Time Ruining Everything

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I was hanging out with Emma and Mary Margaret at their loft for coffee before work when August came by to install a new lock on the apartment door – one that would keep Regina and her skeleton keys out. The lock was beautiful, well crafted, and very "medieval-chic" as August coined it. When Emma questioned August's ability to do such expert craftsmanship, given he's a writer, he cast a long knowing glance at me before delivering a smooth lie on how he was able to make it.

Mary Margaret informed us she was planning on returning to teaching, which was followed by Emma talking about what her threat to Regina truly meant. Mary Margaret was clearly trying to gauge if Emma was prepared to be Henry's mom, that she was really ready for all the responsibility that comes with it if she went through with getting custody of Henry.

I watched Mary Margaret and Emma talk, listened to the words Mary used, and allowed myself for just a brief moment to believe it could be true – Mary Margaret was Emma's mother, I guess our mother – and it made the advice she gave to Emma all the more heartwarming.

Henry popped up on the walkie-talkies that Emma had with him issuing a Code Red for Operation Cobra and asked her to bring me with him, it was important. Emma and I wasted no time and headed to Granny's diner together to meet Henry's call. Emma was grateful I was so willing to go along with her son's ideas, but August caught up to us, cautioning Emma on a custody trial and urging her to take the day off and see the bigger picture of how she could defeat Regina, offering to show her. I cast him a warning look as Emma continued heading off to Granny's ahead of him, not saying a word as I caught up to her.

Henry was sitting at a booth tearing through his storybook when I came in, Emma already sitting next to him. I took my spot across from them and Henry informed us that there was a new story added to the storybook – the story about Pinocchio.

My stomach dropped.

August had changed the storybook and added his story in, his story intertwined with Emma's and, subsequently, mine as well. Henry acknowledged that the story wasn't finished yet, but there was important information we needed to know about the curse. More importantly, we finally figured out who I was in the storybook and how I was involved in everything.

That caused both Emma and I to balk – but sure enough, there on the pages of the storybook was the story of Snow White and Prince Charming having not just Emma, but twins, the 2nd twin being named Hannah. Emma cast a look at me but must have seen the utter shock and paleness on my face and realized I was just as clueless as she was and had nothing to do with the new story that was added.

What was more alarming to Emma was that her story was now changed, the storybook pages that she'd burned months ago when she'd first arrived were now back in the book with their corresponding illustrations. I asked if I could see the book and turned to the page with Charming holding a tiny baby with black hair, two bright red blood droplets having fallen on the baby's head – the red standing out so starkly against the page. I reached up, touching the spot on my head where the white parts of my hair began to grow – the exact same place where the Prince's blood had fallen on the baby that had the same name as me, the baby August claimed was me, as shown on the page of the book sitting right in front of me.

My heart was racing, but Henry ate his breakfast as we talked before Emma urged him out and to head to school, afraid he'd be late. While she took Henry to the bus stop I headed to the Sheriff's office. Despite the murder trial no longer taking place, the city still wanted an official liaison at the Sheriff's office so my position was to be permanent.

On my walk to work, I noticed August walk into Mr. Gold's and decided to wait around to confront him. Once he did, and I do, he asked what I thought of the new story in the book. I told him it was not very subtle of him and it was still hard to believe, even after seeing his leg (for which I still had no logical explanation, by the way, I kept trying and failing to find a reason why a man's leg would be turning to wood, but Google provided no answers.) Believing he was Pinocchio was still hard to wrap my brain around. He then turned on me, telling me I needed to get Emma to believe and stop being so stubborn about it. I told him it wasn't my job nor my responsibility to get her to believe and he shot back that that was exactly what my job was, I was her shadow, supposed to be her life-long companion, and I owed it to everyone to get her to believe and break the curse - it was just as much my responsibility as it was hers - before storming off. 

I ignored the racing of my heart and mind and continued over to the Sheriff's station to do some filing and hopefully turn my brain OFF. When Henry came by after school to drop the book off at its new hiding spot, I asked if he would mind sticking around for a while so we could talk about Operation Cobra and he eagerly agreed, pulling up a chair to the desk I was perched at.

We sat down together and I asked if I could see the story about Emma and, supposedly, me again, and he was more than happy to oblige. We went through the story together, I read every word, soaked it all in, and am left reeling. Seeing the story of me, my birth, how I got to this realm, my parents, all on the pages of a storybook ... It was all surreal. Once I had finally scoured every word of the story of Pinocchio, Emma, and Hannah, I eventually turned to Henry and asked if he believed it was all true, honestly, to which he said yes. I told him if that's true, that would make me his aunt, and he just smiled up at me in response.

In Pinocchio's story, we learned that the wardrobe could actually carry 3 people through – not just 2, as the faeries had told Snow White and Prince Charming. This meant if Pinocchio hadn't gone through, if Geppetto hadn't made them lie, Emma and I would have grown up with a mom the last 28 years – assuming the curse was true. Or, if I hadn't been born, Emma could have gone through the wardrobe with our mom, and wouldn't have grown up alone in the system. My nephew, the dark-haired boy sitting in front of me now, wouldn't have been born in prison, and probably wouldn't have been given up for adoption.

I turned once again to the page showing the Prince holding the tiny black-haired baby Hannah, seeing the two red spots of blood on the baby's head, and felt the absolute rightness of everything that had been told to me, as crazy as it sounded, as hard as it was to believe, somehow, someway, it was all true.

The curse was real.

The storybook was real.

And not only was I a part of it all, but I was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, twin to the Savior, an unexpected baby that changed the entire course of the story.

My mind reeled the rest of the day and into that evening. Mary Margaret invited me over for dinner and I spent the evening with her, Emma out who-knows-where. I found myself constantly looking at her over and over again noticing the resemblance between us, wondering how I hadn't seen it before, trying to wrap my mind around the possibility that this woman who I had grown so close to in the last few months was actually my mother. I wondered how our relationship could continue, how I could even have a relationship with her knowing what I might know and her not knowing. 

It was crazy. I felt like I was going a bit mad.

After I left Mary Margaret's loft I went back to the Sheriff's station and decided to read through Henry's book – cover to cover – needing to understand it all, decide for myself once and for all if I was going to believe all of this despite how crazy it all sounded. 

I needed to hear it from August again, everything, all of it, and this time I was prepared to listen.

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