There are two types of people in this world: those who are idiots and those with common sense. I have common sense. Everyone in Storybrooke? All idiots. They're all following a twelve-year-old boy like he's a prophet. They believe his claims. If no one with common sense steps up, Henry could initiate a cult if he's not careful. How long before people want to go to this "Enchanted Forest?" To see magic? Henry has no idea what he's bringing on. I should stop him. It seems I'm the only person with common sense in this town. But who will listen to an outsider? And how could I start a revolution against Henry? He's a kid. I don't expect there to be pitchforks and torches, but there'll definitely be screaming and violence. I can't do that to a child.

I arrive at Henry's house after he texts me he's finished his homework, which he's been doing all day. I've lived in small, crowded foster homes and apartments for years. All while a crazy kid got to grow up and live here. I'm sure Storybrooke was normal before he found his storybook. How it must've been before his fantasies? How everyone must've been so different? Before the storybook, the town must have been a child's paradise. An ice cream shop, a diner, boutiques, two moms? When I didn't have one? And he has three grandparents? Two homes? A hometown? Henry's nuts, yet he has it all. He has everything I could ever want.

It's not fair. It's so not fair.

After picking him up at his glorious home, Henry and I walk down the sidewalk. His life must be amazing here. Everyone cares about him. They believe him because they love him. So, they don't doubt him. They don't question him or realize how ridiculous his stories are.

But I do.

"So, tell me, kid. If Storybrooke is filled with people from the Enchanted Forest, does that mean there's a town full of characters from Wonderland? What about the Wizarding World?"

"No. Those places weren't cursed."

"'Course, they weren't," I whisper.

A soft breeze carries the ocean's salty scent to here. Cold shadows linger, but the grass on the front lawns is crisp and healthy from the rain. Some trees are starting to lose their leaves and are turning orange, red, yellow, or brown.

"Where are we going today?" I ask Henry.

"Back to the Town Hall. My mom should be there now. She left home about an hour ago." He's not wearing his coat, as usual. It must be because of today's warmth.

"Okay, but I was thinking we should try the library again. Considering your mom and I aren't exactly best friends at the moment."

"But she'll be able to help. She can give us town records."

"Belle can, too, can't she? She could help us find out where my parents are."

He looks down, watching his steps. "She likes books, but I don't know if she'll give us more information than my mom can."

"If she's really into books, then maybe she can."

"It'll take a while. I have to meet a friend."

"It's almost one," I say, looking at the clocktower, which pokes above the trees. "What time do you have to be there?"

"The sooner, the better."

"Then let's get a move on."

"But—"

"Come on."

As Henry and I make our way to the library, doubt clouds my mind. There are too many mysteries I've encountered since arriving here. One of them being my parents. Are they even here... or alive? Few people know them. No one's seen them.

Why should I believe Henry? Everything that comes out of his mouth is gibberish. And not just his—Killian's, Delilah's, Mr. Gold's—everyone's.

But the biggest mystery of all is how Henry found me. How did he know to look me up—to find me in New Jersey? How does he know who I am? Nothing makes sense. Nothing does anymore. I'd like to know what I got myself into. But to find my parents, I need to take risks. Risks I may never take otherwise. Risks like coming to an uncharted town full of people who go on and on about magical fantasies.

The library's a block away. And I'd like some answers.

"Henry? How did you find me? How did you know who I am—where I was? Okay, first of all, why did you bring me here? Was it really to help me find my parents?"

"That's part of it. I was reading my book and found your story. It said you jumped through a portal to this world, and I wanted to bring you to Storybrooke, where you belong," he says with a calm voice.

"And why do I 'belong' here?" I air quote.

He waits a while before answering as though I asked him a philosophical question. We reach the library and stand in front of its doors. "I know you don't want me to say it, but it's the truth. You belong here because everyone in this town is a fairytale character from this book." He holds it up to show me. "And you're one of them." This kid is all kinds of crazy.

"No, I'm not. I'm not anyone," I say, a little too loud.

Belle opens the door, startling us. "I thought I heard someone out here." She goes back inside, and Henry follows.

He turns his head. "Yes, you are," he whispers.

I resist the urge to charge him. I don't understand. He didn't answer my questions well enough. But I push it aside for now and walk inside.

Belle, Henry, and I go through loads of books. We scatter them everywhere to where we can't see the floor anymore. I sit where it should be and flip through a book on my lap. Belle stands behind the circulation desk, and Henry sits at a foldable table Belle brought in from the other room. None of us have found anything, and it's almost time for Henry to leave—as he keeps reminding us.

"This is pointless," I say. "We're never going to find anything."

Belle takes her nose out of her book. "Keep looking. I'm sure we'll find something in one of these books."

"We went through hundreds of them. Look at the floor." I move my arms around to show her the mess. "After all that, we found nothing."

"We'll find something," Henry says in his optimistic voice.

"I beg to differ."

"I promise we'll find something," Belle says.

"This is ridiculous. It's been three hours. And have you not realized who we're looking for? Disney characters. And guess what? They're not real."

"They are," Belle says. "We all are."

"How did I get to this point? Wasting my time to find my parents, who are supposedly Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip?" I stand, and books fall from my lap. I try to walk without stepping on any of them.

"Bella, wait." Belle moves around the desk and comes toward me as steady as she can. "I know you don't believe anything we're telling you, but I promise all this is real. I'm Belle." She points to herself.

I look at her like she's crazy. "I knew that already."

"The Belle. From Beauty and the Beast." You have got to be kidding me.

I stare at her.

"Bella?"

"Are you okay? Are you okay?"

She leans away from me and says shaky, "What do you mean?"

"Is this your way of crying for help? Are you guys in danger?"

"Bella, I know it sounds absurd, but it's the truth."

"Did somebody put poison in the drinking water or something?"

"Bella—"

"No! Don't 'Bella' me. This is crazy. All of it! How do you expect me to believe I'm some made-up fairytale character? I can't deal with this anymore."

I hurry to the door. Belle calls my name, but I walk as fast as possible without thinking about where I'm going. I can't take this nonsense.

* * *

Something within gravitates me toward the docks. I park my car and retrieve my guitar from the trunk. Then, I sit on a bench on the boardwalk and place the instrument on my lap, staring out at the shimmering sea. I breathe in the salty air as the breeze blows through my hair.

I strum my guitar under the setting apricot sun. It's foreign to me. So much shit has happened since the last time I practiced. My fingers play a lullaby that I sometimes sing in my head or hum when I'm feeling low. I have no idea where I learned it, but it's always been a part of me. Who knows? Maybe my mother used to sing it to me before she abandoned me. The song does feel like an ancient memory.

I sing it:

Where the North wind meets the sea

There's a river full of memory

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound

For in this river, all is found

In her waters, deep and true

Lie the answers and a path for you

Dive down deep into her sound

But not too far or you'll be drowned

Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear

And in her song, all magic flows

But can you brave what you most fear?

Can you face what the river knows?

Where the North wind meets the sea

There's a mother full of memory

Come, my darling, homeward bound

When all is lost, then all is found

After I play the last chord, Emma says, "That's a nice song there," startling me.

I was so caught up that I didn't notice she or Killian approached me. They came in two different directions—Emma on my left and Killian on my right. They must've both stopped and listened when I started singing about two minutes ago.

My cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"Didn't think you could sing." Emma sits next to me.

"It's my life."

She takes a breath. "I know everything here is confusing and... crazy, but give this town a chance. It may surprise you." She puts a hand on my shoulder. I almost cringe away, but I don't. I like this comforting gesture, even if it is from Emma. But, now, I'm on alert. What does she want? Why is she being nice to me? There has to be a reason.

"Oh, it surprised me. How did you know what was stressing me out?"

"Belle told me. She and Henry didn't find anything about your parents after you left."

"I wonder why." I don't bother hiding my sarcasm.

"Henry's worried you won't believe. Belle tried to console him, but he thinks it's going to be harder for you than it was for me. He hopes you will soon."

"He shouldn't waste that on me. I'm not worth it."

"You know?" she drags out her voice. "I met Aurora when I was stuck in the Enchanted Forest a little while ago. She helped me and Mary Margaret. She saved us."

My face turns to her, and the wind moves strands of my hair, creating a thin veil between us. "If she's so gracious, why'd she abandon me? You know? If she's real."

"To give you your best chance. Maleficent was threatening you, and the only way to protect you was to give you away to the Queen of Arendelle."

I ponder for a moment. None of this makes sense. Me, a royal? No, it can't be. "I don't believe you. Life is not a fairytale."

"I know it seems crazy, believe me. I've been there."

I roll my eyes.

"You're much younger than I was, so I can only imagine what you're going through."

"Did a young boy show up at your door and tell you that your parents are fairytale characters?"

She and Killian look at each other.

Henry told me this story.

"Don't answer that."

A slow grin quirks her mouth. "At least he didn't tell you he's the son you gave up for adoption twelve years ago."

We both let out a small giggle. But it reminds me of my loneliness because I don't have "moments" with people.

Sorrow builds up in my lungs.

I don't know who I am. I never knew, and everything here makes me feel worse. I've never been so confused. I want to believe, but none of it makes sense. I grew up loving all these stories. I know a lot of them by heart. They gave me hope when I needed it. It seems too good to be true when Henry tells me I'm this close to finding my family. And if that's not enough, there's a little voice inside my head that keeps saying it's crazy—me having a family. It's crazy. I'm not meant for one. No one's wanted me my entire life, not even my parents. I was found at the side of a road. They didn't bother bringing me to a hospital because they didn't care.

I want to share this with Emma, but I can never. She may understand, but I'm not there yet. She isn't someone I can trust. Why would she comfort me out of the blue? She needs or wants something from me. But I want to tell her what's wrong. I want to tell someone.

I have no one.

A couple of tears leave, and Emma's eyes water up, too. A single teardrop falls from them.

"I went through all of it, too," she says, her voice trembling. "The abandonment, the system, the foster homes—all of it."

"You did?" My breath catches in my throat.

"Yeah. That's why when Henry brought me here, I didn't believe, either. Not at first. He went as far as putting himself under the Sleeping Curse to prove to me magic does exist."

"A sleeping curse?"

"It sounds strange, I know."

"Why do you encourage Henry with his fairytale stuff? It can be detrimental to his well-being."

"It's the truth, Bella. About a year ago, I broke Regina's curse over Storybrooke. It took four months for me to believe, but I did." I'm not staying here for four months.

"You're all insane. Thanks for trying to help, but I think I liked it better when you hated me."

She leans over and says, "I don't hate you. I was just being protective of Henry."

"That must be nice."

"While you're here, we promise to make you feel welcome. The offer on the apartment still stands."

"I'm not interested."

"Think about it and give the magic thing some time. I suggest Henry's storybook. It helped me."

I'm done fighting these people. I still don't believe a word they're saying, but yes-ing them to death will be much easier and less stressful than arguing. It's better to go along with it like I do when a kid tells strange stories that are clearly not true—kind of like Henry's.

I brush my hair away and tuck it behind my ear. "I'll try to be more open to all this, but... I'm not sure if I'll believe it. It's so hard."

"I know. That's why we're all here to help."

"Thanks."

Emma hugs me, and I never felt so safe. I feel... wanted like I... matter. It's a pleasant feeling when someone seems to care. The question is—Is it sincere?

We both stand, and I swing my guitar over to my back.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Emma's about to leave when Killian speaks up. "I'm going to stay here, love."

"Are you sure?" she says.

"Aye. It's my turn to do the talking."

Emma looks at me to make sure I'm fine with this. I shake my head, so she doesn't leave me alone with him.

"It's okay." She smiles, understanding. "He's not as repulsive as he seems."

They share an awkward glance, then she leaves.

"As horrid as this town may appear," Killian says, moving to stand in front of me with a wide stance, "it's actually quite charming."

"You call almost getting attacked by a flying monster 'charming?'"

"Well, it's less treacherous than the realms I've been to. It just takes some time to adjust."

I don't respond.

His smugness falls away, and he wears a serious demeanor with expressionless features. "Have you thought about it?"

"Yeah."

"Well?"

I can't turn back now. I need answers. I need to find out if he knows the whereabouts of my parents. This is taking a chance. A huge risk. But he knows my mother. I've never met anyone who knows my mother. Aurora. He can take me to her.

"Show me."