The Girl With Lost Memories - Parts 1 & 2 (An OUAT Fanfiction)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 50: 𝒪𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑅𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

Pity parties help. My breathing eases, and the tension in my shoulders subsides. I'm still a piece of crap, but I'm better than before. Letting it all out helped lighten the load I was carrying. I never knew how much it weighed me down until now.

I wipe away the tracks of tears with the back of my hand, then use the inside of my shirt to dry my face. It's true that everything happens for a reason. Maybe what Henry did was a good thing. Without it, I wouldn't have disposed of some of my burdens.

But I'm still gonna kick his ass.

Perched on the cot, I watch Mr. Gold settle on the stool, each of us cradling a styrofoam container on our laps. This may be the first time I've had a cheeseburger for breakfast, and I must admit, this earns Gold a few brownie points. I'm ravenous, and this comfort food is very much in order.

"Granny has a way of turning ordinary food into something extraordinary, don't you think?" he says.

My mood might be lighter, but I'm still mired in a gloomy mindset. "Anything other than microwaved meals is extraordinary to me," I reply, looking at my burger.

"Your foster parents don't feed you?" Is the man who's always trying to scare and pressure me into making a deal with him concerned with my life before Storybrooke? How interesting?

"They left us to our own devices. Outsourcing food has been put onto my shoulders."

"How many other children?"

"Three. A five-year-old girl, a ten-year-old boy, and a seventeen-year-old witch."

His forehead creases, defining his wrinkles. "How come she doesn't get the food?"

"Did you not hear me? She's a witch. One who's incapable of taking care of herself." I pick the pickles out from the cheese and set them on the upper flap of the container.

"Belle mentioned you found an item linked to your parents." Still not something I want to discuss, but it's better than talking about Agatha and...well, everything pre-Storybrooke.

"We found a necklace that belonged to my mother, but she gave it to Ashley as a gift. You wouldn't happen to have anything else, would you?" Why am I getting my hopes up? Haven't I learned my lesson?

"Nothing that belonged to your parents." Of course.

I lower my head in expected defeat.

"However," he says with his usual hushed, conspiratorial tone, "there are other relations than just one's parents."

That lifts my head up. My mouth hangs the tiniest bit open in the hope I may have other relatives. Why haven't I followed that path? I've been so fixated on my parents I never thought to search for aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, or siblings. I've wondered about their existence, but it never occurred to me to track them down. I wanted a mother and a father. But I'll take anything.

Gold rises from the stool, places his takeout container on the workbench, and limps to the showroom, the curtain tied back. I lean to keep him within sight, observing as he removes a necklace from a mannequin in the front window. He returns, letting the necklace dangle from his fingers.

A large silver snowflake pendant sparkles when it catches the light. I reach for it, but as my hand gets closer, I sense a magnetic force emanating from it. I pull back, afraid of what may happen if I touch it.

"What's the matter?" Gold asks with a knowing smirk.

"N-Nothing."

"Go on, then."