Monday, September 18th, 1989

     His breath was slow and even. I inhaled and exhaled as quiet as possible so his breathing would be the only sound in the room. My walls were illuminated with the morning sun and yet he slept, his bare chest raising up and down, his firm arms calm at his sides. Soon we both would be starting our days, but all I could do was sit in bed and look at Graham’s peaceful face. How was I so lucky to have ripped the heart out of such a beautiful man?

     He inhaled deeply and stretched his arms. One hand came down and scratched the dark stubble on his cheek. He turned his brown eyes to me.

     “How long have you been sitting there?”

     “I don’t know.”

     Graham lifted his head to look at my clock. I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down into the sheets.

     “You’re not leaving yet.”

     He smiled and moved his warms legs beneath me. He sat up and pushed himself closer. His warm legs were soon beneath me, and their coarse hair was welcome against my skin.

     “No, I’m not.”

     Much of my day was spent like most of my Mondays have been. I can’t believe I’ve been monitoring the schools for over a year, not just because that’s how much time has gone by but also that the schools could still turn up things that might offend me. Last Monday, the high school drama club wanted to put on a musical called “Brigadoon”. After renting the video, I cancelled the show, kept the video and fired the drama teacher. There have been so many things I’ve had to put a stop to. Any idea that involves leaving Storybrooke—like varsity sports teams or field trips—I immediately turn down. It’s easy to get enough people on my side for this. All that’s needed is to suggest what kind of expense such a trip would cost for the town or question if our teaching staff is up to watching so many of the town’s children. The one thing I haven’t been able to do is remove the school libraries. I keep getting reminded by everyone that it’s not possible for the students to learn without books. So to compromise, I’m simply going through every single book in all of our school libraries. I can’t trust anyone else to do this—I certainly don’t want another Vivian to deal with. These libraries aren’t nearly as large as the shuttered up town library, but this is will still take a while.

     Reading books in the town library certainly prepared me for this. I know what to look for. The books that stay are the ones that reinforce life in this world. Even some of the literature is acceptable. There are these stories in the elementary library called “fairy tales” that almost had me worried. One was even titled “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves”, but it got our history all wrong. The fact that this world is aware of us is interesting, however.

     There’s still no sign of Vivian’s book. I’d wondered if Mary Margaret did get it but accidentally gave it to the school library, but no evidence of that, so far.

     That evening I stopped at the hospital to check in on David and Belle. Both were perfectly silent. It must have been volunteer night at Storybrooke General; I saw probably ten women wearing volunteer stickers on their blouses. Even still, Mary Margaret was the only one I saw actually doing anything. While she was approaching patients, the other women continued to walk past me down the hall. I wondered whether they were going to get their instructions when I froze. Coming right for me was Kathryn! We both stopped as the other women walked on. Her eyes grew wide and I suspected she didn’t want to see me there.

     “Kathryn, what are you doing here?”

     “I’m—volunteering.” She pointed to the sticker on her chest like she just remembered it was there.

     Straight ahead of her, where I had just come from, was the hall that led to David. Kathryn discovering him and all the questions that might follow was something I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

     “No you’re not!” I grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and walked her to the exit.  “You’re better than this. Do you know how many of Dr. Whale’s ‘volunteers’ I see in Mr. Clark’s pharmacy?”

     “It’s okay, Regina. Dr. Whale isn’t—“ Kathryn pushed her feet to the floor to stop. Her sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floor, but I was persistent and we walked out.

     “I don’t care what his sterilized hands are or aren’t doing.” The doors opened for us. Once we were outside in the crisp night air, I took my hands off her shoulders. “You’re staying away from him. Come on, I’ll take you to dinner.”

     Kathryn was silent for all of dinner. I wasn’t used to her being upset with me. Finally, when it was time for pie, I broke the silence and asked her why she wanted to volunteer for Dr. Whale.

     “It’s been a while since David left me and I’m just trying to move on.” She cut through her blueberry pie with her fork.

     “I could set you up on a date. Sidney’s available.”

     “You don’t need to fix me up with anyone, Regina, but thank you.” She took a drink from her glass of milk to wash the pie down.  “Besides, Sidney wouldn’t be interested in me.” She shot me a knowing smile.

     It was my turn to look down at my plate and play with my food. The apples in my slice were very soft. “Fair enough.” I took a bite.

     “You’re lucky to have Graham, but it’s too bad the two of you have to keep quiet about things.”

     So she did know about us. “We decided it was best.”

     “You both did, or just you?”

     “It would have created a conflict of interest and one of us would have to leave our position.” I put my fork down and it clinked on the plate. “I’m sorry I stopped you from volunteering. If you really want, I can arrange for a date between you and Dr. Whale.”

     “Please don’t.” Kathryn shook her head and smiled before she got up from the table and left.

Thursday, October 22nd, 1987 - Part 2

     I drove over and parked my car in an out-of-the-way place further down the street. No one paid attention as I entered the apartment building and used my key to open Mary Margaret’s door. Her home was cozy, despite looking like it was once part of an old town factory. For every square-foot of exposed brick, there was a fluffy pillow or flower in a vase. The optimism in the room was sickening.

     One thing the apartment was missing was paper; no stacks of mail, no bills, and no papers that needed grading. I looked anyway. Apart from an abundance of hand-crafted pottery, the kitchen was spotless. There had to be something. I rifled through her bookshelf, but there was nothing that looked like what Vivian described.

     It occurred to me then that I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I knew it was a book about our world, but I didn’t know what it would look like. How big was it? What color? Was it old? Did it have a title? If Mary Margaret did have it, how would she even know? Vivian’s ability to brush past any of my questions about it had left me clueless.

     I climbed a ladder that lead to a loft. Holiday decorations, more blankets and other decorative knick-knacks that would fit on her loaded shelves were there, but no books. I was heavily leaning towards the idea that Vivian had lied to me as I climbed down the ladder.

     Click.

     The door was being unlocked. How did I lose track of time? When is school out, anyway? I had little time to think. The only door out was the one being unlocked. All the windows were too far away. Running up the ladder would take too long. I saw the sofa and squeezed under it, tucking every bit of me underneath. Mary Margaret came in and I watched her booted feet walk over to the kitchen. If I lowered my head enough, I could see her sorting today’s mail. She had no idea I was there.

     Mary Margaret sat her mail down and walked into her bathroom. I took my chance to get out from under the couch. There on the counter was an old, large book sitting under her stack of mail. But no sooner did I take a step that the toilet flushed. Did she just turn in a circle and flush the toilet? Back under the couch I scrambled and squeezed.

      I could hear her in the kitchen. Cabinets were being opened and closed, and by the sound of the shrieking kettle and the sweet smell, she was making hot cocoa. My stomach ached and reminded me that I hadn’t eaten in a long time. I lowered my head to see Mary Margaret. She sat down a spoon she used to mix her drink and then grabbed a shaker to sprinkle something into it. It was cinnamon. That was the only way you could drink hot cocoa in the castle when Snow’s family was in charge. I remember them being so nice about it too. “We like to sprinkle cinnamon on our hot cocoa because that’s what we do. Aren’t we adorable?” But if you wanted it without cinnamon, they’d look at you as though you were diseased. Dictators. I haven’t been able to drink hot cocoa since.

     Mary Margaret pulled a magazine from her small stack of today’s mail. Her posture straightened and her voice boomed.

     “See that you do, Miss Blanchard!” She was mocking me! “Oh look, Madam Mayor, I found your book! You didn’t tell me what to look for, but I’m sure it’s this one.”

     She brought the magazine and her mug of cocoa over to the couch and sat down. The bottom of the sofa settled on top of me. I waited, but she didn’t seem to notice anything. Instead, she turned on her television just as Hibiscus Hollow was starting. I forgot what day it was. If I turned my head the right way, I could see the show, too! Some of my tension eased and we watched the show together. I wasn’t surprised to find out that Mary Margaret was a Susan fan, the enemy of Rosaline. It was like we were watching a tournament; Mary Margaret cheering every time something good happened to Susan and I silently cheering for every back-handed move Rosaline made for her revenge. The ending was bittersweet; Susan succeeded but Rosaline was not broken and made plans for next week’s episode. Mary Margaret set her mug down, turned off the television and passed out on the couch. Apparently, being alone made her care less about sleeping in an actual bed or brushing her teeth. The magic of my favorite show had ended and I remembered I needed to escape.

     I didn’t know what to do. Having raised her, I knew that Snow White was a light sleeper and could wake at the slightest sound. But Snow would have figured out in two minutes I was there, and Miss Blanchard had no idea this whole time. If I tried to leave and then she woke to discover me, what then? She wouldn’t just let me go and never mention it. Killing her would be difficult and hard to cover up. I could rip out her heart and command her to forget why I was there—and make her give me the book! But she wouldn’t be miserable then and that’s the whole point of this curse. You don’t feel anything when your heart’s missing. Someone whose heart is being controlled knows what emotions look like when someone else feels them. They can mimic them, but they don’t have them. And I want her suffering to continue. I could use magic to wipe her memory after putting her heart back in so she could suffer more, but I don’t want to waste it. I only have what little bits I’ve got and I might need them for bigger things.

     I took a chance and pulled myself out from under her sofa. She stayed asleep. I had to get that book. I rubbed my sore neck from watching the show and snuck over to the kitchen counter. The large brown book’s title read “Advanced Calculus”. I opened the cover, thinking it would’ve been just the thing someone trying to trick me would put to disguise it. But the equations on every page revealed that it was, in fact, a math book. What was she teaching these children? I closed the cover and turned to leave, but then whipped around when I heard screaming! I blinked and put my hands down (what magic was I going to throw, anyway?). Mary Margaret was squirming on the couch, screaming like she was in a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. I stepped over to the couch and watched her narrow her eyebrows and rub her arms like she was in pain. This was a nightmare she wouldn’t wake from until it decided she would. I smiled, thinking this happened every night and knowing she wouldn’t know why. It seemed that my curse wasn’t the only one making her miserable. My day had been redeemed after all. I saw my chance to leave and I took it.

Thursday, October 22nd, 1987

     Vivian’s funeral was held the following Saturday. It was less intimate than her wedding. I put a notice in the paper and made an announcement about it at the town meeting. What I didn’t expect was for everyone to treat my announcement as a command. Most of the town showed up for the former librarian’s funeral. Leroy even stood near the front.

     It was held at the cemetery. I covered the cost of the funeral as well as the burial. I made sure she was buried near my family crypt so I could pass her when I went to visit my father. Ashley and Marco were grateful that I took care of this.

     I began yesterday morning in my office as I normally do. Trying to find that sense of normalcy after someone you care about has passed can be difficult, but you know what you’re supposed to do and you do it. I placed my mail from the lobby on my desk (no one enters my office when I’m not here). I hung my coat up. I made myself a cup of coffee. I sat down to read my mail. And then I spilled coffee all over myself when I saw the second envelope.

     It was from Vivian. The address for my office was in her handwriting, as well as her return address on the back.

    I left it sitting face-up on my desk while I grabbed a napkin to clean myself off, but never took my eyes off it. Who sent it? Marco? Ashley? My clothes weren’t getting any cleaner, but they were dry. I ran over and looked at the post-date. It was the day before. So it was after Vivian’s funeral. I opened the envelope and unfolded her letter.

Majesty,

I have not been completely honest with you. It is my desire to die knowing that you know the truth. I did not hide the book that woke me up in the library. Once I knew what it could do, I took it home. Later, I gave it to Mary Margaret with the hope that it will someday help the savior. Fear not, for it was not the book alone that woke me up, but a combination of things. It is my deepest wish that you will prove to the people what a benev—

     I can’t tell you what else it said, because I tore the rest of it up.

     All of that talk about redemption and winning the people over was just to prepare me for her betrayal! This is what happens when I trust someone. She wooed me with talk of understanding and helping me understand the curse—as though it was a living thing! Only to double-cross me by sending the book that woke her up to my enemy. No wonder she wanted me to befriend everyone—she aimed to wake up the whole town!

     I rushed to Storybrooke Elementary. The students were all over the grounds at recess. I ran past them and into the school. Mary Margaret’s door was open. She was erasing mathematical equations off the board.

     “Miss Blanchard.” I was in her face before she had a chance to put down her eraser. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Vivian Boyd has passed away.”

     “Yes, she was so nice. I saw her in the hospital. Were you friends?”

     “Yes.”

     “I’m sorry for your loss.” Mary Margaret tried to take a step back to make more space between us, but I countered.

     “You haven’t known her long then?”

     “No.”

     “Good. I received a note from her saying she gave you a book. Perhaps her mind was going, but she meant to give that book to me. Do you have it?”

     “I don’t remember her giving me anything.”

     “Are you sure? The book is very dear to me. We became friends over it and I want it to remember our friendship.”

     The bell rang. Miss Blanchard’s students began walking into her class with less enthusiasm than they just had outside.

     “I’m sorry, Madam Mayor, but she never gave me a book in the brief time I knew her.” She looked at her students and then back at me, silently asking me to step back. I didn’t oblige. “But if it turns up I’ll certainly give it to you.”

    “Be sure that you do.” I walked out, but my search for the book wasn’t over. If she had the book and read it, how could I be sure she wasn’t really Snow White pretending to be Mary Margaret? She could be lying. Still, it’s possible she was telling the truth. Maybe Vivian wrote the letter to me prematurely? Maybe she never gave the book to Mary Margaret? I headed straight for Vivian’s house.

     I used my skeleton keys to open the door but only got into Vivian’s living room before Ashley walked in from the kitchen. She screamed before she saw it was me.

     “I’m sorry, it was open.” My explanation calmed her down.

     “Of course it was.” She believed me. “I’ve been so out of it lately. W-why are you here, Madam Mayor?”

     “I received a letter from Vivian today.” I looked around. The room was empty. My guess was the whole house had been cleared of everything, from the furniture to the bacon.

     “Oh, yeah.” Ashley looked exhausted but there was no place for her to sit. “I sent those out yesterday. I was supposed to give them out at the funeral but I forgot.”

     “Of course.” I said. “Were there many?”

     “She only wrote them to her family. And you.”

     “Did you read any of them?”

     “No.”

     “In mine, she said she gave away something that I thought she was going to give to me.”

     “She asked for a lot of things to be given away.”

     “Do you know where it all went? Maybe where her books went?”

     “She never owned any books. Weird, right? For a librarian? But there hasn’t been a book in here for as long as I can remember. But all of the other things in the house were sold or donated.”

     “But don’t you need furniture? Vivian said you were supposed to inherit the house.”

     “Did she? Well, my sisters decided to sell it.” Ashley didn’t sound upset, just not surprised. “I’m going to live with one of them. I’m just waiting for them to pick me up.”

     Once I got the answers I wanted, I had no desire to wait with Ashley. I left as politely as I could, but I was tired of being nice to this family. I went to Marco’s garage, but he was still so overcome with grief that I couldn’t hold a conversation with him. I decided he probably didn’t know about the book if Ashley didn’t and left him alone. My next stop was Mary Margaret’s apartment.

Sunday, October 11th, 1987

     Vivian invited me over for afternoon coffee. I brought over some apple turnovers, which I thought she might enjoy with her bacon. There was a break between the rain storms, so we sat on her front porch. The steam rose and swirled from our cups as we sat and discussed the curse. After a pause in our conversation, Vivian changed the subject.

     “Marco proposed to me again last night. This time, I said yes.”

     I rested my palm against the warmth of my mug and stared down into the coffee. “He won’t be happy. He can’t be, here. Not completely. You understand that, right?”

     “We make each other happy.”

     “But you can’t stay happy.” I looked at her, knowing she wasn’t begging me. “The curse will find a way to upset that.”

     “I know and so does he.” She held out a reassuring hand. “He doesn’t know, but I’ve told him about my illness. I’ve joked before and said I’d probably die the day before our wedding day.”

     “That’s not a very funny joke.”

     “No, it isn’t, your Majesty. But sometimes I think the only thing that’s kept me alive is not agreeing to marry him.”

     The rain started falling again. We stayed outside under her porch’s cover. The chill in the air from the rain made our coffee that much warmer.

     “You haven’t completely swayed me in your opinion about the curse.” I reached for the turnovers and served one to Vivian. “It makes sure that the people of this town stay miserable because I want them to be miserable.”

     Vivian chuckled and dug into her turnover.

     “But I don’t want you to be miserable,” I said. “I have some things that might be able to help you.”

     Vivian sat back in her chair and smiled at me. I didn’t have to tell her I still had three pieces of magic I could use to help her. Daniel’s coin was protecting me from the other Regina, and I’d already used another piece to keep Owen’s father asleep. It was risky, but the other three pieces could potentially keep her here longer.

     “Nothing can rid me of my cancer, your Majesty, even if you had magic of your own here. I’ve had it for too long.” It wasn’t pride that was frustrating to me. Pride was something I knew how to overcome in others. Vivian had resolve and that was something I couldn’t rid her of. I thought of something else.

     “But still, I want you to be happy. I have some things of my mother’s…”

     “Have you been looking for my heart? You won’t find it among your things.” She put a hand to her chest. “It’s in here.”

     “Most people who’ve had their heart taken don’t know it. Others can even hear it beating if they listen.”

     “Your mother never took my heart. She took my husband’s. He was different once he was promoted to general of the royal army. He wasn’t the same to me. He didn’t treat any of our children with the same amount of affection. But he was the same, intellectually. Your mother had plans that he carried out, but his sensibilities eventually won out and he defied her one day. He refused to sacrifice more lives for her plans. He was dead the next day.”

     Now it was time for me to sit back in my chair.

     “No one can defy the one who has their heart.” I said.

     “They can, my Queen, but it is rare. It takes great strength of character and great support from those who truly love them.” Her cup was empty. She rolled it around in her hands as she thought back. “I tried to convince myself that’d she’d taken my heart, too. But there’s an absence of feeling when your heart is missing. I felt rage when I couldn’t go after the Queen. I felt resentment and anger that Cinderella looked so much like her father and reminded me what a trap my life was. I felt desperation with the knowledge of my illness and the desire of wanting my daughters to be taken care of. And I felt remorse when I became myself here.”

     We were quiet for a long time as the rain continued to fall. No one had touched my heart like Vivian had in a very long time. The knowledge that this time was ending, paired with the fact that I could do nothing about it, upset me greatly.

     “You are my friend.” I reached out my hand and put it on hers. “If I can’t help you, what can I do for you?”

     “Be happy for me.” She smiled. “And come to my wedding.”

     So I did. It was very small and held in the church. I was there for Vivian and so was Ashley. Vivian’s other daughters were there as well, although they acted like being present was a hassle for them. The men they were with seemed respectful enough and I recognized one of them as the baker. Dr. Hopper was there for Marco, as well as his dog. Vivian wore a nice white dress with a blazer and a lovely white hat. Marco was the best dressed I’d ever seen him, in a grey suit that looked like it was made just for this day. They looked so happy, standing in front of all of us and before Mother Superior. The sun was shining through the windows of the church, casting blues and reds over all of us. When Mother Superior pronounced them married, everyone clapped as Marco kissed his bride. Vivian was so happy and that made me happy for her.

     There wasn’t much of a reception. We all went back to Vivian’s house for dinner. Everyone had prepared something beforehand. I brought lasagna, of course, but I think everyone was pleasantly surprised at the roasted chickens Dr. Hopper had prepared. And the baker had prepared a lovely but modest cake. When dinner was over, Vivian’s daughters and their companions left quickly. Doctor Hopper and Marco went to relax and talk on the porch, while Ashley tossed a ball for Pongo. Vivian and I chatted in the living room.

     “We’re going to keep both residences,” Vivian responded to my question of where they would live. “But we’ll primarily live here. Someday, after I’m gone, Marco will probably move back to his house and Ashley can have this one.”

     I smiled. I was genuinely happy for her in this moment. Through the window, Dr. Hopper called for his dog. Pongo barked and ran up to him so he could put his leash on, and the two walked down the lit street.

     “It’s late.” I stood up. “Your wedding was beautiful, but it seems it’s time I left you to your husband for the evening.”

     Vivian stood up and led me to the door. Marco stepped inside and he and Ashley began to clean up in the kitchen. Before I walked out, she stopped me one more time.

     “Marco will someday wake up and remember who I was, but he’ll also remember who I was to him. This is an opportunity to show what kind of queen you really are before the savior arrives.”

     I couldn’t think of anything to say at that moment, but I thought of so many ways to respond. Initially, I thought she was wrong. The only one who’s supposed to be happy here was me, but maybe she was onto something? If I could put plans into action to make the people’s lives better, then, if the savior arrived, they wouldn’t even want her. What a revenge that could be! I imagined Snow White trying to take arms up against me, but everyone in town choosing me instead. Then I’d be the hero who put the good people of my kingdom under this curse to protect them.

     I wanted to talk about this with Vivian, but she was also newly married. I felt the least I could do was give her and Marco the weekend to celebrate. So I went to her house on Monday after work, but Marco answered the door and turned me away. I protested, but he seemed genuinely upset and insisted she was tired. I went back the next day to have Ashley answer the door and tell me the same thing. By the third day, when they wouldn’t let me in, I called for the ambulance to take Vivian to the hospital. By the end of the day, Dr. Whale told all of us that Vivian was not doing well. He did his best to suggest Marco make preparations.

     I went back to work the next day, but couldn’t do much of anything. I was dumbfounded by how fast the cancer was taking her now. I took the rest of the day off before lunch and went straight to the hospital, but it wasn’t enough. By the time I arrived in the waiting room, Ashley was crying in Dr. Hopper’s arms. Marco arrived in the waiting room, having just come from Vivian’s room. He saw me. He clearly had been crying but now his eyes had run out of tears. He walked over to me and took my hands in his.

     “She is gone.” He said. And he wept again.

Tuesday, September 8th, 1987

     We stood at the edge of the southern town line this morning. Vivian had prepared coffee and breakfast to take with us. It was so early, the sun still hadn’t come up, but it was light enough outside to stand without flashlights. She and I leaned against my car and watched the morning breeze blow the leaves over our border.

     “Do you see how easily they cross over?” Vivian munched on a piece of crisp bacon. In the short time we’d known each other, bacon was all I’d seen her eat. I had no idea how a woman with her frame could eat so much bacon and stay so small. “It’s no problem for objects to enter Storybrooke. But living things…” a flock of birds flew straight for us, then turned as a group away from us and flew west instead. “Living things can’t come in. The curse confuses them.”

     “I know.” I thought back to Owen, trying to convince the police that there was something before them that none of them could actually see. “But this doesn’t explain how outside mail gets here. Or food or anything that needs to be delivered by a person.”

     “The curse does it. It reaches farther than just Storybrooke. It has to in order to protect us.”

     “So the curse allows us to subscribe to a magazine?”

     “Yes.”

     “And it just goes and gets us the magazine?”

     “Ultimately, yes.”

     “How?”

     “It confuses people.” She pulled up the collar on her coat as the breeze picked up. “Obviously I haven’t been able to see this on the outside. But you remember the butcher. He knew he received shipments every morning, but who delivered them didn’t matter to him. I think the same is true for the post offices, magazine companies and anyone else who is supposed to send things to us. They know they have items to send us, but we are forgotten once our items are prepared. The curse takes them after that and makes anyone involved forget.”

     “And the items just magically appear?”

     “Yes. I’ve seen it.” Vivian glanced at her watch. “You can, too. It’s still early. Let’s go back into town.”

     On our drive back, Vivian munched on her last three slices of bacon.

     “Should you be eating all of that?”

     “What’s it going to do, your Highness? Give me cancer?” Her frankness made me laugh. I think it was the first time I’ve genuinely laughed here.

     “My physician back home told me of my condition long before the curse brought us here.” She continued. “Nothing new is allowed to form here. Have you had one cold since arriving here? Have you seen anyone else have one? People only have what they’ve already brought over; it just progresses slower here. My physician back home said I had weeks to live. But here, I’ve lived three years I thought I’d never see.”

     “Maybe you’ll live through the entire curse?”

     “I hope not. You wouldn’t put me through the final stages of cancer for twenty-eight years, would you?”

     We pulled up behind the butcher’s shop, but far enough away that we couldn’t be seen. Not that anyone would see us. Only a few people were out preparing things for the town to open up for business. I asked Vivian if we should get out of the car, but she assured me we didn’t need to and she wanted to sit anyway. She looked like she was ready to fall asleep and I offered to take her home. She refused and insisted I watch.

     I would have missed it if she hadn’t pointed and made me look right then. At 6:05 exactly, a purple glow appeared before the back entrance to the butcher’s. When it vanished, crates and boxes two feet high sat in its place. On cue, the butcher walked out of his shop and began to take the boxes inside.

     “How is that possible?” I almost felt upset. “There was supposed to be no magic here.”         

     “Even a land with no magic has to have some magic in order for a curse to work,” Vivian said.

    “But no one’s supposed to be able to use magic here.”  I neglected to mention my pieces for emergencies.

     “Do you think the butcher did that?” She laughed and then caught herself. “Pardon, Majesty, but the curse is not a person. It doesn’t follow the same rules as us. Does a tree need money to buy its food? Does it need clothes? But it can still live on this earth.”  She adjusted herself in the car seat. “Would you take me home now, please? I think it’s time I lay down.”

     I stopped by again after work to check on her. Ashley let me in and took me into Vivian’s cozy living room. Vivian was propped up in a very fluffy chair with plump pillows and a blanket. I sat on a less-fluffy sofa. Ashley kissed Vivian goodbye before leaving for work.

     “She’s the only daughter I ever see.” Vivian’s voice became strained. “I have two daughters of my own, and I know they’re under a spell, but they never visit me. I was so mean to that girl and she’s the only one who takes care of me. I couldn’t see how innocent she was when we lived back home.”

     I thought about what Vivian had just said as she composed herself. “What happened to that book that gave you back your memories?” I asked.

     “I hid it the same day I found it in the library. I realized its potential to greatly change things, but the curse isn’t supposed to be broken until the savior arrives.”

     “I don’t think she will arrive.”

     “She will.” Vivian sat up away from the pillows, which by now were threatening to swallow her petite body. “You think this will be easy, but before twenty-eight years have gone by, you’ll want the savior to get here. Do you know what’s supposed to happen if she doesn’t?” I shook my head. “Everyone will stay as they are and become lost to the world. In your case, you’ll become the curse’s idea of who you should be.”

     “That’s not true!” She knew I’d been lying about that anyway. I calmed down; the thought of being trapped behind that frightened version of myself scared me.  “I just mean that I know how to prevent that from happening to me.”

     “That won’t last. The curse will only get stronger until the savior arrives.”

     There was a knock at the door. Vivian leapt out of the chair with an energy she didn’t have this morning and checked herself in a mirror on the wall by the door. She opened the door to Marco with a bouquet of flowers. He could see me and stepped back.

     “The mayor was just about to leave, darling.” Vivian took the bouquet and set it in a vase by the door. “Would you mind if I just said goodbye?”

     “Of course, angel.” Marco pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

     I must have looked absolutely stunned as Vivian closed the door and turned to me.

     “I’m sick, but I’m not dead.” She shrugged.

     “You’re dating him?”

     “I love him. Every afternoon, the curse made him come and repair something on my house. Once the curse was broken for me, I decided to ask him to a movie. That was all it took.”

     “But you support my decision for casting the curse. He actively fought against that.”

     “He’s a good man, your Majesty. You could try befriending some of the people who were against you, yourself.”

     “There’s no point. If the curse ever does break, they’ll hate me.”

     “It will break, but they’ll remember the good in you if you choose it. Not everything’s black and white. Add as much grey as you can.”