There's not much to do in Storybrooke without Henry helping me. I have to wait for him to return from his friend's house before I can make more progress in finding my parents. Or I could try to find them myself. Then my next plan of action would be to go to the Town Hall and hope Mayor Mills can help. I'm sure she's not as mean as she seemed. Maybe she's a super nice person who's overprotective of her son like Emma.

There's shuffling behind me as I walk to the central part of town. I turn and find a blonde moving to crouch behind a mailbox.

"Delilah?"

She peeks above it, exposing her eyes.

"Are you following me?"

She steps out, stuffing something in her back pocket. "I wouldn't call it that."

"Then what would you call it?" I cross my arms.

"Checking up on you. You're new, and Storybrooke's weird and, often, dangerous. Speaking of which, any more flying monkeys?"

"No."

"Oh—Well—Then—How've you been?" she asks with her hands in her pockets while rising on her toes.

"I've been better."

"Still think it's all crazy, huh?"

"Yeah, well, normally, people don't drag me to mysterious towns, where everyone claims magic and fairytales are real."

Delilah's eyes dart as she tries to find the right words. "But... they are," she says, trying not to push me over the edge.

"I beg to differ."

She walks over with her head down, trying to think something through. "My mother's story had nothing to do with bears—real ones, anyway.—"

"What're you doing?" I ask, concerned for her health.

"Trying to get you to understand that our stories differ from the classics, so it's okay to feel confused."

I shake my head and say, "That's not why I'm confused."

She takes a breath. "Look. I know it's crazy, and—well, ...It totally is, okay? But sometimes you need to—"

I put my hands up. "Stop. I don't want to hear this."

"But you need to know where you come from."

"Where I come from?"

She nods.

"Where I come from is what I'm going to find out. That's why I'm going to the Town Hall."

Delilah's eyes widen, and her mouth opens. "Why? You know how Regina is. Wait. Do you? Have you met her?"

"Yes. She was mean, but I've known worse. She's the Mayor, so maybe she can show me some town records about my parents or something."

"You can't do that."

I lean on my back leg, stunned that she told me what to do. "Why not?"

"Because," she bites her bottom lip, "...Regina doesn't like newcomers. Heck, she doesn't like anyone."

"But it's her job as Mayor to help."

"Storybrooke citizens. Not strangers."

"I'm trying to find my parents. She'll understand. Whatever she has to do to get me out of town the fastest way possible—something tells me—she'll do it."

"But there's so much in Storybrooke that you haven't seen yet. Why don't I show you around?"

"I already told you Henry's my guide. Besides, I'm not looking to make friends."

"Oh... I get it," she says, her energy depleting.

"Just... quit bothering me."

The quicker I find my parents, the quicker I can leave Storybrooke and its ridiculous residents. But Delilah has a point. Mayor Mills isn't going to help me when she thinks I'm here to hurt her son.

I won't go to the Town Hall, but I need those records. I'll just have to recheck the library.

* * *

"Hello?" I say into the library. "Belle?"

It doesn't seem like anyone's here.

I admire the grand piano. My fingers slide across the top, and I lift the fallboard. I press down a key, and it rings out around me. I push another one. It's like I'm in a world full of beauty and wonder. I long to play a complete song, or, at least, a chord, but it has to wait.

More important things are at stake.

I search for Belle between the aisles of bookcases in the other room and the research area.

She's not here.

* * *

Henry must be back from visiting his friend by now. It's around six. But I avoid bumping into him. His moms don't want me anywhere near him, and I have to respect that. But how am I going to find my family now? I need Henry. He's the reason I'm here. He wouldn't have traveled to New Jersey alone if my parents aren't here. They have to be, but I need his help. He knows things, and I don't. So far, trying to locate my parents by myself has been a bust. I tried asking the locals, I tried the library, and I can't go to the Town Hall. Mayor Mills will eat me alive if I go by myself. I even tried talking with that insane pirate. My parents are hiding in Storybrooke, but how am I supposed to search every nook and cranny alone?

At six-thirty, the rain starts. I wait it out in my car, but it doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

My duffel sits in the passenger seat, and my eyes sting as I focus on its side pocket. I don't know if I can move. My arms and legs are stuck in their resting positions. The sound of the rain becomes white noise, and I swear it's gotten darker.

I force myself to take out the charm bracelet. My hands shake as I reach for it, but I do it. The metal is cold against my skin, and the charms dangle and rattle around each other. My thumb brushes over them, and a choked sigh bursts out of me, but I cover my mouth.

Do. Not. Cry.

Without delay, I put the bracelet back in the pocket.

Hours go by. It's now ten.

I take my fedora off and place it on top of my duffel. The rain pours down and hits my windshield. Little splatters plop in random spaces and trickle along the slope of the glass.

I like rain. Rain. Not storms. It's childish to be afraid of thunder and lightning storms, and the chance of getting struck is like a million to one, but if Little Jimmy can get hit on the lawn, who's to say I can't, too?

I'm parked next to the library again. After everything that's happened today, I deserve a little boost of happiness and hope. A small something inside the building can help with that, but it'll require a bit of a felony. I don't want to get arrested in a new town, where I want people to like me, especially with how Emma and Mayor Mills think of me. But if I'm arrested, Emma will call Curt and Diane to bail me out, and they'll drag me back to the foster home. Damn me for being a minor.

Regardless, I go through with it since I have experience breaking and entering. It's not like I'm stealing anything. I'm just going to take a quick look at something that brings me joy. Is that a crime?

I use a hairpin to pick the library doors open. Once inside, I go to the back room and tiptoe through the aisles of bookshelves. It's dark, and I'm wet from the rain. My shoes leave puddles of footprints all over the place. This wasn't such a good idea

I go to where I remember it being and take it off the shelf.

Green hardcover. Yellowed pages. Sweet biblichor.

This is what I want. This copy could replace my burned one, but I'm not going to steal it. I'd never deprive kids of the opportunity to read Harry Potter. That's cruel. It's a sin, and that would be the true crime.

I stand still in the aisle and read through a portion of the first chapter. A smile creeps upon my face. And there she is—Hope.

After returning Harry Potter, I leave the library and close the door.

The rain stopped, and my hair dried—though it's stringy.

A police siren starts.

Across the street is Emma's cruiser with the red and blue lights on.

I bolt to my car and start the engine.

I slam my foot on the gas. Emma's behind me. I make sharp turns to lose her, but it doesn't work. I go through a red light, thinking she'd stop, but she continues to follow me at high speed. I make a sudden U-turn, and my tires screech on the pavement. My car loses momentum, but I get it back. Emma's siren lights flash through my dark vehicle. The alarm's in my ears.

Then it fades.

The lights are out.

I check my rearview, and she's gone. When I lower my eyes to the road, Emma pulls in front of me. I jerk the wheel to avoid collision and step on the brakes. My car swings, almost hitting a parked one, and my head bangs into the headrest. Busted.

A car door slams. Emma's coming.

She stops within a few feet of me and aims a gun at my door. "Step out of the vehicle." It's muffled from being outside.

I open the door and do as she says with my arms up and head down.

"Bella, what the hell?"

"I know this looks bad, but let me explain."

"Looks bad? You broke into the library and sped through town. You could've hurt someone."

"Yes, but I didn't."

"Really?" Her face is stern, as I expected it to be.

"Oh, come on, Emma. It's not like I took anything."

"Then why'd you do it?" she asks in a monotone voice.

"Because I—" I stop myself.

"You what?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"Whatever you were doing in there mustn't have been good if you had to get me off your tail." She still has her gun pointed at me, and that depresses me. I showed her I'm not a troublemaker, and this happens. If she thinks I'm going to speed off again or attack, then she doesn't know me at all. But she doesn't know me.

"Which is why this looks bad when it isn't."

"I'm sorry, but you've left me no choice." Emma walks over and spins me around. She leans me on my car while she handcuffs me.

"Emma, please listen," I say, trying not to croak.

"No. Anything you say can and will be held against you, so I suggest you shut up right now."

What happened to the Emma who was with me at the docks? Is this what she does? Betray people when she goes into Sheriff Mode? I can't wrap my head around it, but I knew it. I knew Emma would turn on me like everyone else. I hoped she wouldn't. I hoped we were allies. And she's handcuffing me? Arresting me? As a fellow foster kid, I thought she'd be on my side, but what she's doing is a dagger to the heart. But I'm not sad. I'm stunned. Confused. Disappointed. But most of all, ...I'm mad.

* * *

Emma locks me in a cell at the sheriff's station. The iron bars of the two cages run floor-to-ceiling and are about three inches apart. The cells' doors each have a thick box obscuring their locking mechanisms.

There's a boy around my age in the prison next to me. He has blonde hair and a scar that runs across his face. His eyes haven't left me since I arrived, and he's not staring at me in a lustful way. It's full of despise.

Emma sits at her desk and goes through some files. Or she's writing me up.

"Can we forget this?" I ask from the cot.

"No. You committed several misdemeanors tonight. Trespassing, reckless endangerment, resisting arrest—"

"I didn't resist arrest. I stood there and let you handcuff me."

"So, engaging in a car chase with a sheriff is not resisting arrest?" she asks, folding her arms on the table.

"N-No. And, besides, you were driving recklessly, too."

"I have to do what needs to be done to catch the perp."

My head cocks back. "I am not a perp."

"Says the girl who—"

"I know what I did."

"Again—You have the right to remain silent." She picks up her pen and gets back to writing.

"Hey, what's going on?" David says, with Belle behind him.

"Look who got into some trouble tonight."

All three look toward my cell, making me feel like an animal at the zoo.

"Bella?" Belle says in shock.

"Hello," I say with a wave, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're the one who broke into the library?"

"She did. It set off the silent alarm," Emma says.

"I... I can't believe it," Belle says, at a loss for words, blinking as she tries to process the information.

"There has to be a misunderstanding, Emma," David says.

"There isn't one. She broke into the library. But I haven't figured out what she stole yet."

"I didn't steal anything."

She keeps her eyes on me. "Then she drove off and tried to lose me."

"Yeah, I saw the car blocking the road on the way here. Did you guys get into an accident? The bumper's missing."

"No," I drag out. "That was from a different incident."

"With Henry?" Emma asks, tilting her head forward.

I hesitate, then say, "Do I get a phone call?"

"Not yet," she says. "And there's another thing—Gold sent a text today, saying someone broke into the back room of his shop and stole an ensemble. Any guess who that would be?"

"It couldn't have been Bella," Belle says, shaking her head.

"Who else could it have been? I could arrest her for that, too."

"You can't prove it was me," I say, giving a sly grin.

"This better be good if I had to leave my home with flying beasts on the hunt."

Oh, fuck.

Mayor Mills walks in and casts a scathing glance my way. "What's she doing here?"

"She committed some misdemeanors tonight," Emma responds.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Regina," Belle says, turning to her.

"What? She's a bad influence for Henry. He never should have brought her here." She gestures a hand toward me. "Look. Her throat's been strangled, and she has a tattoo."

I raise my wrist, showing them the mark. "It's Sharpie."

"I should have sent you back the second you stepped foot in Storybrooke."

"Can we try to figure out why she did it?" David asks, putting his hands on his hips.

"What's there to figure out? She committed a crime. She belongs behind bars. There. Honestly, Charming, I thought you had a bigger brain inside that head of yours."

"I'm sure she was just trying to find something," Belle says.

"Exactly. Something to steal," Mayor Mills says with a taut voice.

"Alright, enough," Emma says. "I agree she's a bad influence for Henry, but he brought her here for a reason."

"Like he brought you here for a reason?"

Emma wears a puzzled expression. "I broke the curse."

"And ended my dreams along with it," Mayor Mills says, angling her head away with crossed arms.

"The point is—I don't like Bella being here any more than you do, but she's here."

"Unfortunately."

"Bella, is there a reason you broke into the library?" Belle asks.

"Sorry, but I have the right to remain silent."

"Which you're not following," Emma says.

"She asked me a question. I didn't want to be rude."

"I say we send her back to wherever she came from," Mayor Mills says, dropping her arms to her sides.

"Clearly, she's lost and scared," Emma says. "She's like me when I was her age."

"You say that like it's supposed to make me feel better."

"Belle, is it all right if I let her off with a warning?"

"Sure. I don't want to press charges."

"Really? You're gonna let the mini jailbird join forces with the mama one?" Mayor Mills says as Emma comes over with the keys.

"We're not joining forces, Regina." Emma opens the grate. "Far from it." She steps back, and I come out of my cell.

"If it were up to me, I'd have her arrested. Look at her. She looks homeless." That burns. No matter how true it is. Even if she meant it in the literal sense. I may live in a house, but I don't have a place to call "home." I was able to hide before, but now, looking like a used, dried, washed-up mop, I appear as what I am. Concealing it is over.

Emma turns back to me. "I may be letting you go, but I don't want you anywhere near Henry, understand?" she says with a stoic face.

"That might be a problem," the boy says.

"Shut up," Mayor Mills tells him.

"Understand?" Emma repeats.

I nod, unable to speak, my eyes swelling. "I understand perfectly," is what I would've said if I could. "I understand you betrayed me, Emma. I understand Mayor Mills hates my guts. I understand I have no place in Storybrooke, even if I do find my parents. I understand I am merely the scum under everyone's shoes. And like it, I am nothing."

"Good."

She took away my only chance of finding my family.

Allies don't do that.

Enemies do.

If Emma and Mayor Mills think I'm so bad, then that's who they'll get.