Chapter 2: Emma Swan, Esq.
Boston, Massachusetts
It was another late night in the office. There was nothing unusual about that. Of course, it was her birthday.
But no one at the office knew about it. Well, her supervisor probably did, and she had taken Emma out for yesterday, but Emma had sworn Charlotte to secrecy about her birthday. She really didn't like making a big deal of it.
After so many years of not celebrating, she really didn't see the point. Yet, Charlotte insisted on the coffee and the bouquet of white tulips that she got each year from Ford Gold had been delivered to her apartment earlier in the morning.
She shook her head at the thought of her savior. Although, she hadn't had that much contact with the man over the years—he moved to work at his office in the UK of all places—he kept tabs on Emma.
And was more than willing to help her when she asked, not that she asked for help often. Though, there had been a few times in the past decade where he had saved her ass.
Especially when she started applying to schools and apartments, she didn't know how she'd do it without the man.
She purposely kept the communication minimal though. She felt like Gold had already helped her out enough, and he deserved to be happy. She remembered seeing him with that assistant of his, she hoped that after she left things worked out between the two of them. Though, Gold was never really the type to want to talk about his private life. More or less, he wanted to see if Emma was okay.
She shook her head; she was okay as she would be. Thankfully, the past ten years had been a lot better for her than that one hellish year had been. After a year of waiting, she was happy to find out that there was no lasting effects from either what Ralph Miller or what Lena Green had put her through. All that remained was the respective scars. That if anything had allowed her to move on a bit, and starting school helped too.
She really did love the work she did as an ADA for the city of Boston. She was good at her job. Charlotte called her a workaholic, but Emma found concentrating on work helped her avoid her past.
Of course, she had been to therapy. It got to be too much. That day she decided to leave Gold's she knew she needed help and finding a good therapist was one of the first things she did. She had made peace with a lot of the things that happened with her, though she still felt some grief about the son she never knew.
When she did decide to look, a couple of years ago, she found that the records were sealed, so there had been no way for her to even know if he was okay. She thought of pursuing it for a while, but in the end she couldn't. It had taken her so long just to accept the fact that she had been assaulted, and she didn't know how she would be able to handle looking at Jaime even if it wasn't his fault.
Dr. Crane said it was perfectly normal, but Emma hated herself for it. She viewed herself as a horrible mother, not that she was the child's mother. She just hoped that whatever sort of life Jaime had it was better than hers.
"Seriously, you're here on a Saturday night, Swan?"
It was Marc. One of the other ADA's at the office. An old law school friend of hers, who had in the past tried to hookup with her and failed epically.
Emma didn't do hookups. Or dates. Or anything. After what had happened, the last thing she wanted was a romantic relationship, no matter how much pressure her friends put on her to find a nice guy.
"I'm revising my motion. Some of SCOTUS's recent rulings might complicate the case."
"It's nine freaking o'clock at night. And it's Saturday."
"And yet you're here."
"The exterminator tented up my place and I was waiting for Hollis to get done with her emergency meeting or whatever."
Hollis was Marc's latest girlfriend. She attended school with Emma. However, unlike Emma, she decided to go into the private sector where the hours were much worse and the pay was a lot better.
Not that Emma needed any money.
She was set for life after the settlement Gold had gotten her. However, she loved her job, which surprised her.
"The woes of corporate law," Emma said. "Tell her I said hi."
"I will," He said. "You want me to walk you out or do you think you'll be okay?"
She shrugged. "I should be fine. I think I'm going to be here a couple of more hours anyway."
"Emma."
"What? I really want to make sure that we did everything by the book. The confession looks a little iffy. You know that Lawrence is developmentally challenged, right?"
"I don't care." Marc said. "No one but you probably cares. Lawrence's own attorney probably doesn't give jack shit."
"And that's the problem." Emma said. "I—you know what happened to me, Marc."
Most everyone did—at least in the greater Boston legal community. She had one of those Lifetime movie-ish storylines that the universities and employers loved. And God knows, when she was given the opportunity to give the commencement speech the whole mess about her being unjustly locked in jail was broadcast in the legal world.
Yet again.
Gold told her to revel in it and exploit it, which she did sometimes. It was after all her ticket, her talking point. But then again, it was a time in her life she did not like to reflect on and most everyone who knew her knew as much.
"Lawrence won't have the same result as you did, Emma." Marc said his tone full of pity.
"How do you know that?"
"Because you're prosecuting him, and if you believed for a second there was a remote chance he was innocent you'd go all Nancy Drew on the case."
"Don't be ridiculous." She said even though she knew he was right. "I guess it can wait till tomorrow. I might want to question him again, anyway before I submit anything to Judge Shore."
He nodded. "Come on, I'll walk you out. You never know what cretins are lurking all over the place."
She rolled her eyes knowing if there was a cretin outside, she could probably kick their ass a lot better than Marc did. After all, she had been taking self-defense classes on and off for several years as part of her therapy.
She lived in a brownstone in one of the nicer parts of town. It was the kind of building she couldn't imagine living in as a kid. Honestly, she probably didn't need the space but she liked the architecture of the building. There was just something about it that felt very quintessential Bostonian about it. What was not quite lovely was that there was a kid sitting on her front steps when she arrived home.
She inwardly groaned. The homeless population was an issue in the city. And unfortunately, children made up a part of the population. At the same time she didn't exactly feel comfortable walking up to her front door—she had lived in the foster system and worked as a prosecutor, she knew you were never to young to assault someone.
But the kid didn't move instead he sat there.
Emma was tired. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. It had been a long day, and honestly she didn't want to be up that much longer. She hated her birthday, flowers and coffee aside.
"Hey," She called as she cautiously walked up to her doorstep, as she discreetly got her phone out just in case she had to dial 911. "Kid, are you looking at someone?"
The kid turned to look at her and Emma could make out more of him. He definitely wasn't homeless or living in foster care, she could make out that much now. He was wearing some expensive clothes. The boy's skin was also ridiculously pale, not touched or burnt by the sun like someone who lived on the streets would've been. His blonde hair while messy was obviously styled that way. Definitely not a street kid.
"I'm looking for someone."
"On someone's door step, who obviously isn't home. Really?" Emma said going into cross-examining mode.
The kid smirked. "How do you know they're not home?"
"Because you're outside," Emma said.
"Who are you looking for, really?"
"I'm looking for you, Emma," The boy said. "I believe you're my biological mother."
She needed a drink.
She couldn't though, she had to think. She had a ten-year-old in her house now that claimed to be her long lost son.
She didn't know how this was possible.
"You can't be Jaime." She said.
"Is that what you were going to call me? I mean, I saw James on the birth certificate, but I didn't know you planed to call me Jaime." The kid said. "Regardless, it sure beats the name she gave me."
He said she with disdain.
"You mean your, uh, mother." Emma said.
Jaime—or whatever his name was rolled his eyes. They were green, but a different shade of green than Emma's. Almost a golden green. It was a lovely color, she thought, but she didn't know where he got it.
Ralph Miller didn't have green eyes.
Ralph Miller really looked nothing like the boy. Then again, Emma guessed you never really knew with genetics. He took after her, it seemed for the most part, but surely there had to be some traits of his that were Ralph's.
She wasn't seeing it though, at least not yet. Which was actually calming to her. She did not want to think of Ralph Miller. The man gave her enough nightmares to last her a lifetime.
"Oh, come on," Emma said. "Surely, she's not that bad. She adopted you, that has to count for something."
The kid shrugged. "Pretty sure, I was adopted to fulfill some sort of deranged status symbol. Not that she let me know I was adopted, should've pieced it together though. I look nothing like her."
"She didn't tell you, you were adopted?" Emma asked. "Is that why—uh, you're here?"
The kid shrugged. "Partially. I also thought maybe you could give me answers."
"About why I gave you up? I—"
She didn't even know how to answer him. It was one of the only things she was glad about when she found the courage to look at his records only to find them sealed. At least she'd have time to make peace with everything. Or try to explain how she was incarcerated and then how after she was released she was a total mess. She didn't even try to fight for him back then, she had been so depressed. Hell, she hadn't told anyone for years that she had been raped or about Jaime's existence.
Only her therapist knew and she didn't think that Dr. Crane would want her to make a call so late on a Saturday night.
"I know enough about your past, that you didn't have a choice. You were in jail right? Convicted for a crime you didn't commit or some sort of shit like in that old movie with Indiana Jones. Only a one arm man didn't do it, and you didn't break out of jail."
"You're ten you shouldn't say shit." Emma said. "But yeah, I was in jail. It's not something I'm fond of remembering, but it happened. CPS took you, I didn't have any rights and it looks like you've been living a pretty good life—uh—"
"You can call me Jaime if you want," The boy said. "I really hate the name she gave me."
"Your mother." Emma said. "And if your name's not Jaime, I'd rather not call you it. I mean, I don't have any rights."
The boy shook his head. "Really, I'd prefer it if you call me Jaime. Or I guess you could call me HJ, that's sort of cool."
"HJ?" She said. "So I'm taking if the name your mom gave you started with an 'H' then."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"I'm guessing my remarks about swearing are not going to keep you from refraining from using profanity."
"Nope," HJ said noting the bouquet on the kitchen table. "Are those from your boyfriend?"
"No," Emma not knowing why she was answering the questions. "They're from a friend. He sends me flowers every birthday."
Yeah, if she could consider Ford Gold a friend. He was more like an enigmatic Santa Claus at best. If Santa Claus was a few decades younger, skinny, and wore Armani.
HJ raised his eyebrows. "They look expensive."
"He has good taste. You're changing the subject, I used to do that a lot when I was your age."
"I'm sure you did."
"Look, I'm sure you have questions, but I'm also sure your mother is worried sick about you."
"Again, she is not my mother," HJ said. "That woman doesn't have a maternal bone in her body."
She really didn't know what to do. She was not a parent. Maybe if she had raised her son she would know how to talk with him, but now she was just a confused over tired woman who just wanted to rest so that she could have a somewhat relaxing Sunday with a glass of wine and a day of binging on Netflix or whatever.
"HJ," She said. "I get you don't like your caregiver, but she obviously cared enough about you to adopt you and I'm sure she's worried sick."
He laughed.
"What?"
"It's Shagging Sherriff Graham Saturday," HJ said. "I doubt she even knows I'm missing. She won't be home till tomorrow morning at the earliest."
"Shagging Sherriff Graham Saturday? Aren't you like ten, how do you know the word shag? Isn't it a British term? And what about the baby sitter?" Emma asked. "You did have a sitter, didn't you?"
Because God knows what she'd do to her son's adopted mother if she left her ten-year-old at home.
"Yes, Emma, I did have a sitter." HJ said rolling his eyes. "It was nighttime after all. And like I said, she's shagging the sheriff, so of course she's not going to leave me home alone. Oh, and I know the word 'shag' because I watch a lot of TV and it's sort of obvious that that's what their doing. She's out all night, after all, and the times she brings him in I can hear them. So, gross."
"Right." Emma said. "I should take you to the station right now."
"Really. Really. I wanted to reconnect with you. You're my long lost mother; I thought we could discuss my genetic background and that good stuff. Like what's you're favorite color?"
" It's red and you're a child," Emma said. "If I keep you here it will be considered kidnapping, and as you know I've had my fair share of jail cells. I'm not doing that again. Besides, I'm an officer of the court. It's my duty to get the situation all sorted out for you."
"Please, don't call the police." The boy said, "She'll kill me."
"Kid, I—"
Emma sighed. The look on Jaime's face reminded her of hers at that age. "You're going to have to go back, HJ. I can't help you there, I'm sorry about that. I can offer you this though; call your mom tell her where you are and I'll drive you back. No questions asked."
"It's already eleven." The boy said, "It's about a three hour drive. Like I said, not worth it."
"Fine," Emma said. "We'll go back first thing in the morning. I'll sleep on the couch. But you need to call her, she's probably worried sick."
"Fine, if I must."
Emma nodded as she handed him her phone. "I'm going to change, it's been a long day. Oh, and by the way, I will check the call log to make sure you really talked to her."
She then promptly went to the bathroom and vomited up her meager dinner. It was the first time she'd done that in years, she thought as she brushed her teeth and took a tablet that Dr. Crane prescribed. She was having a panic attack, which wasn't that big of a surprise. Her long lost son was in her house, and she didn't know what to say or do and he had major attitude. Just like she did when she was a kid.
She tried to tell herself that it looked like he had a pretty good life. He seemed well taken care of for the most part, but she couldn't help but remember the way his face looked when he talked about his mother. Was his adopted mother really that big of a monster?
She doubted it. After all, what kind of woman would adopt a kid for a status symbol?
They had to be fighting.
There was a knock on the door, "Emma, you decent?"
"Yeah, just let me grab my robe." She said hoping she looked composed enough to adult it.
The kid looked at her with wide eyes. "You okay, I thought I heard someone hurling."
Emma shrugged. "I don't know what you heard. Did you call your mom?"
"Again, Regina is not my mom. But I left a message, I doubt she'll check her machine though until I'm already back at her house of horrors."
"HJ," Emma said.
He smirked. It reminded Emma of someone, but she just couldn't quite place it.
Please don't be Ralph Miller, she thought, that was the last one she needed to think about.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Be nice. I get it. You haven't met Regina though."
"Your mom's name is Regina. Okay, well, that's something." She said. "Do you want anything to drink? I think there might be some Coke and milk in there. Though, it is late. You should be getting ready for bed."
The boy shrugged. "Emma, can I ask you something?"
"Yeah," She said.
"Have you ever done something, well, freakish?"
She gave him a weird look, "HJ?"
"It's just, well, all these weird things happen. I thought, I don't know, it might be genetic or something."
"What do you mean by freakish?" Emma asked.
"It's just funny things happen sometimes," The boy said. "Almost like magic."
"Magic doesn't exist." Emma said that was one thing she was sure of. It was almost as if that point had been hammered in her head, time after time. "Good stuff and bad stuff happens, kid, it's life. Trust me, I know."
HJ looked at her, "I'm sorry about what happened to you. I sounded awful"
"It was, but it's made me a stronger person, I'd like to think. The point is things sometimes happen. For better or worse."
"Yeah, but—" HJ sighed. "I've been called a freak all my life, Emma."
"Come on," She said. "You a freak? Really, HJ? Who would call you that?"
"Regina," He said. "I've been in therapy since I was five to stop my freakish behavior."
"That is just ridiculous." Emma said. "I'm sure—"
HJ shook his head. "You haven't met Regina, Emma. Sometimes I wonder if she wants me to think I'm crazy. Maybe she is succeeding I came here because—"
"Because you thought that you were cursed or something?"
HJ shrugged. "Yeah. Partially. Or something like that."
"Well, you're not." She said frowning.
"Archie's told me that lots."
"Archie?"
"My therapist," HJ said.
"Oh," Emma said. "Well, you should listen to him, he's right."
HJ shook his head. "Well, there are things—I guess you don't understand."
"Jaime, err, HJ," She corrected herself. "I want to understand."
"I know," HJ said. "But, I don't think you can. Maybe this weird book is right, I thought it was another hoax of hers, but there might be something to it."
"Weird book?"
He nodded as he dug something out of his bag. Emma was surprised she didn't see it sooner.
The book was large with one of those faux jewel encrusted covers
"Fancy smancy," she said as he handed it to her. It was heavy too. "Seriously, kid, you took this with you when you ran away from home."
"It wasn't that heavy."
"It's heavy to me." She said, "Okay, so what's the deal with this book?"
"Read it. We'll talk after that. Do you have decent cable?"
"Yeah," Emma said. "I'm a bit of a TV junkie, you can stay in here. I guess, I have some reading to do."
He nodded. "Oh, and Emma,"
"Yeah, Jaime—err, HJ?"
"Thanks for listening, she never does that. And really, you can call me Jaime I don't mind."
She nodded as she closed the door.
She shook her head as she went into her kitchen and poured herself a Coke. Before sitting down on the couch and opening the book, Once Upon a Time.
What an inventive title?
She rolled her eyes and started reading. She admitted it, the fairytales in this book weren't exactly traditional, but she had no idea how HJ thought this book was relevant to his life. It was obviously fiction with babies being transported to other worlds in wardrobes, queens pulling hearts out, and Rumpelstiltskin wearing leather pants of all things. A little ridiculous if she did say herself.
She just shook her head as her eyes slowly closed. When she woke again, it was morning.
She almost forgot that the kid was there until she saw the book and groaned knowing that today was going to be a very long day. She quickly got out her phone to see if the mother had called, she hadn't.
She tried again because honestly she hadn't been sure that Jaime had actually called, even if the number was on her phone. She got voicemail though and briefly mentioned that Jaime was there and that she would be bringing him home this morning and gave her contact information.
Emma was a little surprised that the woman, Regina, hadn't picked up her phone. God knows if HJ lived with her, she'd be frantic at this point. Surely, the sitter or someone had to know he was gone by now and informed the woman.
She frowned as she tried to look for something to serve to the kid for breakfast. Cooking was never really a skill that Emma had much grasp on. She could make a decent pot of coffee and a ham sandwich and that was it. Most of the time she ordered in, and since she had been at the office pretty much every night for the past week there wasn't even cold pizza in the fridge.
"You're up early," The kid said walking into the kitchen.
"Couldn't sleep," She said. "You really can't blame me, can you?"
"Nope," He said. "You read the book."
"Yeah," She said. "They're really weird versions of fairytales, but I don't know why you think it's interesting. I mean, it's just a retelling. I've read lots of fairytale retellings throughout the years. While there is some intricate artistry done with this book, it's not really that special."
"She freaked out over me reading it," The kid said. "I think there's something off about it. Or I think that's what she wants me to think."
"Some parents don't like their kids reading fairytales," Emma said. "It's their choice, though I do agree its a little nuts. They're just stories."
HJ nodded, "I was thinking what if they weren't."
"Don't be ridiculous," She said. "Really, you think it's possible transporting a baby to another realm in a wardrobe. Maybe in Narnia, but not here."
"Narnia?"
She shook her head. "When did my references become irrelevant?"
"It still doesn't' explain why all of the illustrations look like the people in town." The boy said.
"Maybe the artist is local? "Look, it's a book. I don't want to burst your bubble about it kid, but I doubt it's that special."
"It explains a lot though," HJ said. "I think Regina's the evil queen."
"The evil queen is a fictional character, HJ."
Though, he might've had a point. There was something about Regina Mills that Emma did not like when she met each other.
At first she thought HJ had been making a mountain out of a molehill. The town he lived in was just picturesque, if a little outdated. Seriously, most of the cars looked like they were almost thirty-years-old.
They went to a diner for brunch, which was pleasant enough even though the food was a little bland. Though, they did seem to gawk at Emma.
"They're not used to strangers," HJ explained. "It's kind of like a Steven King novel around here."
"That really makes me feel good." Emma said.
HJ laughed as he smiled at her.
"Now, that is just creepy." Emma said.
"It was meant to be creepy," Her son said. "Believe it or not, I have perfected the creepy smirk."
"Who's your friend, Henry?" The waitress said looking at the boy.
"This is my mom." Henry said, "My real mom."
"Uh, I—"
"Birth mom," Emma explained. "He found out he was adopted last night and freaked out. I'm returning him home. Do you know where his mother's house is? He refuses to give me directions, he claims the deal we made only entails taking him back to Storybrooke."
"Really, Henry." The waitress said rolling her eyes before turning her attention back towards Emma. "You don't make a deal with Henry. He always is able to find loopholes. It's a little freaky."
Emma watched Henry flinch a little bit. "I don't think it's freaky. Aggravating yes, but not freaky. I don't think Henry likes that word."
"I don't. And I told you I hate that name. Please, call me HJ or Jaime, Emma."
"Your name is Henry," She said. "I—I should have respect for your mother."
"I'll get you the bill. Oh, and Mayor Mills house is one the biggest house in town. Really easy to find."
She then muttered some directions before leaving the two of them alone.
"See," HJ said. "I rest my case about the freak conversation that we had last night."
"Come on," Emma said. "She didn't mean it."
He rolled his eyes. "Really, Emma. You heard what she said about my 'freakish' deals."
"Well, making a deal with you is pretty shitty." She said giving up the pretenses of not cursing around her son. She had heard a mouthful this morning.
Jaime shrugged. "Touché. I can't help it. I probably got it from you since you're a lawyer and all. Or was my dad a lawyer too?"
"I, uh—" She could see herself shutting down which was not a good thing. Luckily, or unluckily, as she'd later think the conversation was shut down when a dark haired woman came up to their table and started screaming at Jaime for being a freakish ingrate.
It didn't take Emma that long to realize that this was Jaime's mother and she did not like what she saw.
By appearances alone, she guessed the woman seemed polished enough—although she did have a bit of a mustache on her. Though, she guessed with a missing child she had no time to wax. Not that she blamed her with her child running away and all. What she didn't like was the way that the woman was berating HJ accusing him of ruining her Saturday, calling him freakish, not caring that she was practically humiliating the boy, or for that matter where he was last night.
"I swear to God, Henry, you are going to start listening to me." Regina hissed. "When I say stay in your room that's what I mean not gallivanting with—who are you?"
"This is my mom," HJ said. "My real mom. You know the one you failed to tell me about."
Regina's attention turned towards Emma. "You're supposed to be jail for the rest of your life."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Obviously, not."
"Well, we'll just see about that. I'm going to call the police right now. Have you shipped where you belong—what's your name?"
"My name's Emma Swan," Emma said. "And I left you a voice mail and multiple texts. I thought you got them, I guess HJ was right."
"HJ? His name is Henry. You have no rights to him. The state made sure of it. How dare you try to name him again?"
If Emma was paying attention to the rest of the restaurant, she would have notice that everyone in the diner was staring at them. Obviously, it was a sight to behold whenever Mayor Mills threw a tantrum.
"That's what he asked to be called. If you were given the proper paperwork and if the social worker did a half ass job, you'd know I named him James."
"I don't care what sort of shitty name you gave him, he's my son not yours and you're going to go back to that cell where your murderous ass belongs."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I can see we're at an impasse I get you're upset but—"
The woman ignored Emma and turned her head as if she was looking at someone. "Graham."
Emma turned around to see a handsome blonde guy with a very noticeable badge just entering the diner.
She inwardly groaned having a feeling that she might very well end up in a jail cell again. Not that it would be for long, since even Purvis Bernard of all people could have whatever ludicrous charges that Regina had filed against her thrown out, but still.
"Regina, I just was going to tell you, I received a voice mail from Henry's birth mother she said he ran—oh, you must be Ms. Swan."
"Yes," Emma said. "I am. Obviously, I don't need those directions that I asked for about an hour ago."
"Arrest her," Regina said. "She's a murderer, Graham."
"Dear lord, don't you ever check the news, Regina?" HJ said interrupting the Arrest Emma hoopla that the woman was going off on. "She was exonerated years ago. There are tons of stories online about it. She's like a poster child for the wrongfully convicted."
"I don't care," Regina said. "You know you can't believe everything you read on that net thingamabob."
"Internet." Emma corrected.
Regina glared at her. "Whatever. Graham, arrest her."
"Regina, I'm sure that this is one big misunderstanding. Ms. Swan was bringing Henry home. I have the voice message and—"
"I am your boss, Graham. I don't want a convicted felon, let alone a murderer in Storybrooke."
Graham shook his head in disbelief.
Emma really wondered what the nature was of their relationship. He was clearly annoyed with her. Then again, she knew nothing about relationships.
"I'm sure you don't want the city of Storybrooke to be sued for an unlawful arrest." Emma said having enough of this and going into lawyer mode. "Or for that matter, you don't want me to sue you as well for defamation and slander."
"How dare you!" Regina said.
"Oh, believe me, I have a case." Emma hissed. "And I have a blood sucker on speed dial who would be more than delighted to squeeze you for every penny you and your town have."
She was pretty sure this was one case that Ford Gold would love to take. And he would destroy Regina too.
"Regina, "I think you should let this one go."
"But she's a convicted murderer. She admitted it. You brought me the papers."
Graham sighed, "Do you mind coming to the stationhouse, Ms. Swan, it would allow us to settle this without—well, the audience."
Emma shrugged. "I guess. If I can leave on my own free will."
"You're not being arrested if that's what you're asking."
"Duly noted," She said.
"Graham," Regina said.
"If she is exonerated, Regina, we have nothing to hold her on. She did contact me and you about Henry. And she's right, if you continue throwing a tantrum here where you're throwing out pointless allegations, she could sue you and possibly the town."
Regina scowled. "Fine. Make sure she's properly dealt with though. I need to get Henry settled."
The boy shook his head and mouthed to Emma, "Told you so."
He was right, his mother was a monster.
"Sorry about that," Sherriff Graham said when she arrived at the police station. It was a sad little building and like everything else in town it seemed a little outdated.
Emma shrugged. "It's not your fault, though I do have a hard time imaging that woman is mayor. You'd think someone would've impeached her by now or something."
"Regina's not that bad if you get to know her. Just a little rough around the edges."
Emma shook her head.
"Yeah, didn't expect you to take that well." He said. "Obviously, I have nothing here to hold you on."
"You know I've been exonerated?" Emma asked.
Graham nodded. "Yeah, years ago. Regina wanted me to look into Henry's parents. I thought there was something fishy about your conviction, I wasn't surprised it had been overturned."
"And yet you didn't tell Regina."
"She was more concerned about someone taking Henry. You weren't going to do that, so I didn't think it was necessary to go into the particulars."
"Well, it would've came in handy today if you would've opened your mouth."
"I doubt it, Ms. Swan, Regina when she's like that, you can't rationalize with her."
"And yet you're together." Emma said.
He shrugged. "It's casual. She's a good friend of mine."
She noticed him slightly grimace after he said that and she raised an eyebrow.
"She's really not that bad." He added. "So Henry ran away to your place."
"Yes, in Boston." She said.
"That must've been awkward."
"You have no idea." Emma said. "I never expected to see him again, and he seemed so upset. He doesn't like Regina does he?"
Graham shrugged. "They're like oil and water. They're working on it though. I mean, that's why she's having him see Archie."
"Archie's the therapist, right?" Emma said. "He did mentioned he was seeing someone, but he said Regina was sending him there so he wouldn't be a 'freak'."
"Oh," Graham said. "I told her she shouldn't call him that. Is that what he thinks?"
Emma nodded. "To be honest, I'm a little concerned about him. He doesn't seem happy. I always thought, that's why I never fought. Well, it was part of the reason why."
The other reason was that she didn't know if she could bare look at Jaime. But now that she saw him—well, she felt a connection to him despite his origin. And she knew she couldn't leave him, not with that woman.
At least not yet.
"Really, Emma, I wouldn't be that concerned. Henry is a great kid. Yeah, he's a little quirky and Regina can be a little harsh but—"
"You can't even stomach to say he's fine." Emma said.
"No," He said. "I can't. But he isn't being abused if that's what your worried about."
"Not physically." Emma said, "Emotionally, though—"
"Emma," Graham said. "You did the right thing, you were a teenager and by the time you were released, Henry was already in Regina's care."
"I know," She said. "He was already placed. But I'm sure that I could've gotten my lawyer to do something. I should've fought harder."
He shook his head. "Really, Regina isn't that bad. You'll see."
"So, can I leave?"
"Yeah, if you want. Though it will probably piss off Regina."
"I don't care about Regina," Emma said. "Do you mind if I ask you something else?"
"Well, I thought I was supposed to be the one doing the questioning but sure. What do you want to know?"
"Does this town need a lawyer?"