Thursday, November 21st, 1991

     It’s been three months since Hurricane Bob did his damage here. No lives were lost, but a few of the homes that were supposed to have been very old or built on the cheap were flattened. Some shops had damage to their windows and roofs. Most everyone’s homes had minor damage, with trees landing on them or basements flooding. The worst damage was done by the docks. Boats were overturned and boardwalks were torn up. Believe it or not, I rallied the people to rebuild. Many people donated their time and the businesses donated their resources to make sure everyone had shelter. Granny’s boarding house was full for several weeks, as it was lucky to escape the storm’s wrath. Mr. Gold was kind enough to not charge his tenants rent until it was safe to go back into his damaged rental properties.

     It was important to take care of those affected before winter came and prevented further work from being completed, but I’m so impressed with how much work has been accomplished in just three short months. I’ve attended ceremonies for businesses reopening and for families allowed to return to their homes, and I must admit it’s touching to see how proud everyone is of surviving this storm. The largest ceremony took place yesterday, when our docks reopened. The whole town turned out for the celebration of the fishermen being allowed to fish again. And it was there, for the first time in three months that I finally saw them.

     I knew they’d survived because I didn’t actually see Nick and Ava die. I’d just finished my speech and was shaking hands with our chamber of commerce, when I looked to my left and saw the children stuffing their mouths with free food. They didn’t see me, and everyone else ignored them as they stuffed their pockets and ran away.

     I left them alone. As long as I stay away from them, there’s nothing I need to worry about. I remained silent about what happened during the storm and I didn’t press charges either. If they were apprehended, there might be a trial. If there was a trial, there would be a chance the children might say something about their true experience. If that happened, who knows what would result? I told Sister Astrid to keep quiet about it as well. She wanted to conduct a search party the day after the storm, but I assured her it was being taken care of. I decided early on that it would be easier to make them suffer as homeless orphans.

     To that end, I shut down the nuns’ orphanage. I couldn’t stop Sister Astrid from telling Mother Superior what had happened once I’d returned her to the convent. She was very apologetic to me after hearing Sister Astrid’s account, and offered to let me adopt the next child available, should there ever be one. I declined. It is very obvious that the children of Storybrooke are not mine to raise. With my options extinguished, I guess my mission to be a mother is over.