The week that followed was the longest of Regina's life.

She had told Robin not to contact her, but every day when she woke up she wished that he would, in spite of her own common sense. Her mother didn't seem to have caught wind of the fact that Regina had spent her night not only at a speakeasy, but on the run from police and eating sandwiches in a strange man's kitchen, but even so Regina was still terrified of making even the slightest slip around her. She didn't sneak out for the entire week, even when she craved the loss of inhibitions that the gin gave her, even when she wanted to dance and be free so badly that she could almost hear the jazz in her bones. She obediently attended teas, made social calls, even went to one society dinner with her mother, where she sipped wine (it wasn't illegal alcohol that Cora disapproved of, it was mixing with the lower social classes to get it) and said all the right things and tried to pretend that the whispers about the Mills family's fall from grace weren't about her. She smiled and nodded and said all the right things, earning rare looks of approval from her mother and ignoring the whispers about her father and their loss of fortune. Whenever she could, she escaped her mother's watchful eye, wandering through the city, sometimes meeting up with old friends, doing anything she could to keep her mind off of Robin Locksley and his speakeasy.

After a week had gone by, Regina began to grow restless. A heat wave had struck the city a few days before, and the air was sweltering, almost unbearable. But the need to escape her house, the need to do something other than being dragged on stuffy social calls by her mother or pretend to shop with her old friends, who gave her pitying looks when she only browsed and never bought, was becoming too great to ignore. Regina didn't care if she melted into a puddle, she was going to get out of her house. She made her escape at the earliest opportunity, before her mother rose for the day, and spent the morning at the public library before having lunch at a little café and spending the afternoon in Central Park. She tried not to let her mind wander back to Robin again, as it had been threatening to do all week. What was taking so long? He had promised to stay in touch…but did she really even want him to? It was dangerous for her to be seen with him, in more ways than one. Wouldn't it be easier if she just stayed away?

But then she remembered Roland, the sweet look on his face, her promise to come back and see him again soon. She remembered the way Robin had protected her, a stranger whom he could have just as easily left to deal with the police on her own. She remembered his kindness, his compassion, the way he made her feel valued for the first time in years. And then she was gone again, recalling their harrowing escape from Sherwood Forest, imagining the dance that he had promised her.

The day was unbearably hot, the air thick and weighing her down, but the heat had a beauty all its own. She bought a hot dog from a vendor and ate it on the street corner—oh, what her mother would say if she could see her now—and strolled through the park, all but lost in her own head. When she finally decided it was time to return home and face her mother's wrath—preferably before Regina herself dropped dead of heatstroke—she made her way to the outskirts of the park, rejoining the throng of people also making their way home for the day.

A screech of tires suddenly made Regina look up with a gasp. A taxi was hurtling towards the curb at top speed, seemingly not noticing the little girl that was about to step onto the street. Regina stood frozen for a second, and then she was in motion, running for the child even though it seemed like she would never get there in time…

The little girl looked up and screamed as she saw the cab.

"Look out!" Regina cried, grabbing the girl by the arm and pulling them both backwards onto the sidewalk and out of the path of the oncoming car. She landed with a jolt on the sidewalk, the force knocking the wind out of her for just a moment. The girl rolled onto her side next to Regina, gasping for breath.

"Hey, watch it, kid!" the cabbie shouted, his voice rough and gravelly.

Regina stood up, furious. "You almost ran into her!" she cried, but the man was already driving away, his tires screeching on the hot New York pavement and leaving the acrid stink of burnt rubber behind. Regina shook her head, glaring after him, until he turned the corner and was gone.

"You saved my life!" a little voice squeaked.

Regina turned around, getting a good look at the little girl for the first time. She was young, maybe nine or ten, and had beautiful dark hair that fell in ringlets around her face like a doll's. Her eyes were large and stared up at Regina with a mixture of wonder and adoration. She reminded Regina, for just a moment, of Roland—the way children can be so trusting and comfortable with a person they've just met before. Regina envied her that. She didn't know the cruelty of the world, not yet. Part of her hoped that this little girl never would.

"Are you all right?" Regina asked quickly, reaching out a hand to help the poor thing off the ground. Her dress was expensive and slightly old-fashioned, and Regina could tell it had once been pristine. Now, though, the hair bow on her head drooped sadly to one side. There was a tear in her hem, and her stockings were ripped and covered in dirt and grime. Regina could only hope that she wouldn't get into trouble for returning home in this state.

The little girl stood, but did not let go of Regina's hand. She stood for a moment, breathing heavily and apparently taking stock of herself, looking for any sign of injury. "Yes," she whispered, apparently shocked and overjoyed that she had not sustained any injury. Her other hand reached for Regina's, wrapping her small fingers around her hand and holding on tight. The poor dear was shaken to the core, and Regina squeezed her hands in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

"But I'll never come out here by myself again," the girl said breathlessly. "It's too dangerous."

"Oh, don't be silly," Regina said immediately. "Those cab drivers are maniacs, but that's not your fault. And it's certainly no reason to lock yourself away from the world forever. The only way to overcome fear is to face it, don't you know that? My father told me that." She smiled faintly, remembering the day he'd done it, when she had been eight years old and too scared to ride the roller coaster at Coney Island. By the time they'd left for home, she had ridden it three times and was clamoring for more.

The girl still looked unsure, and Regina squeezed her hands again. "Don't worry. I know you're scared now, but you'll see that I was right."

The girl's eyes were so full of adoration and gratitude that Regina almost had to look away. "Thank you," she whispered, her green eyes looking deep into Regina's. It dawned on her that the girl wanted to know the name of her rescuer.

"Regina," she told her with a bright smile. "Regina Mills."

The girl smiled back, a gesture that lit up her sweet face. "My name is Mary Margaret," she responded, her voice still soft. "Mary Margaret Blanchard."

"Pleased to meet you, Mary Margaret. Now, are you sure you're all right, dear? I'm sorry about your dress and stockings. I hope that won't get you into any trouble, coming home like that."

"Oh, no. Johanna can fix anything. I won't be in trouble. But I should probably be getting home soon. They'll worry if I'm gone too long."

"Of course. I understand. Would you like me to walk you home?"

"No, it's not far. Only a few blocks. I live on 5th Avenue. You can see the park from my bedroom window."

The girl said it was if it was nothing, but Regina had to fight to keep her mouth from dropping open. The girl lived on 5th Avenue, overlooking Central Park? Regina had just saved the life of a millionaire's daughter. Cora would have a fit if she knew.

"Well, if you're sure. I should be getting home myself, then. My mother gets worried too when I'm not home on time," Regina said with a wink, as if she and the girl shared some secret.

Mary Margaret's face lit up again. "Thank you again, Regina," she said, throwing her arms around Regina's neck. She returned the embrace, once again a little taken aback. The scent of lavender enveloped her as Mary Margaret's arms squeezed tight around her neck before letting go.

"You're welcome. And you be careful, okay?"

"Will I see you again?" the girl asked, her green eyes concerned. Regina got the distinct impression that she wanted her answer to be yes.

"Well, it's a big city. But you never know. You might."

Regina was lucky when she got home—Cora was having one of her headaches and was not to be disturbed. Her evening and much of the next morning passed in a blissful sort of solitude, until she returned from her afternoon walk to find her mother waiting for her at the door. She braced herself for whatever was to come, smoothing her dress and checking her hair in the hall mirror to make sure everything was in place. If Regina wasn't presentable, there would be hell to pay.

"Regina, hurry up! We have guests."

Regina's brow furrowed. The Mills women still paid calls regularly, but she couldn't remember the last time they'd received one. "Who?"

"Just hurry up," Cora hissed, pinching her daughter's cheeks to put a bit of color in her face. Regina knew better than to flinch away. "There's not a thing we can do about your dress, not when they're here right now, but I'll be damned if your face doesn't look its best…"

Regina found herself being half-led, half-dragged to the parlor. There was a shout of "Regina!" and then a pair of small arms came around her waist, a little head buried almost in her chest.

Regina blinked in surprise."Mary Margaret?"

The girl let her go and stood expectantly before her, a grin bright on her face.

"And her father," Cora said pointedly. Regina followed her mother's gaze towards a middle aged man in the corner, who stood up when her eyes came to rest on him. He had a kind enough face, if a little plain and forgettable, and it was obvious that Mary Margaret must take more after her mother than her father.

"Leopold Blanchard," the man said. His voice was soft, but held the kind of tone that meant that he expected to be listened to and obeyed at all times. Regina recalled that they lived on 5th Avenue, and surmised that he must be some kind of wealthy businessman.

"Regina Mills. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Regina, you neglected to tell me that you were a hero yesterday. I had to hear about it from the Blanchards here." Cora told her indulgently, her smile so wide that Regina was surprised that it didn't crack her mother's face in two. Her eyes, however, told a different story—they were wide and held a hint of warning, as if daring Regina to explain why she hadn't told her mother of her exploits the day before.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I guess in all the excitement it just…slipped my mind. But really, I was just in the right place at the right time. I did what anyone would have done."

"Oh, no!" Mary Margaret's father protested. "It was so much more than that. You saved my sweet girl's life, and I will forever be in your debt, Miss Mills. Truly."

"Oh, I don't know about that…" Regina said, growing flustered. Behind Mr. Blanchard, Cora was smiling like the cat that had gotten the cream.

"Mary Margaret, dear, why don't you run along and play?" Leopold said quickly. "The adults are going to talk for a bit, and you can come back in when the tea is ready."

Mary Margaret's lower lip stuck out in a beautiful pout. "But I wanted to spend time with Regina."

"You can later," Regina said quickly. "Why don't you go up to my bedroom? There's a few of my old dolls in the trunk in the corner that you can play with. I never gave any of them away. It's the first door on the right."

Mary Margaret looked up at her father as if seeking his approval. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she dashed out of the room and up the stairs. Mr. Blanchard watched her with a fond look on his face.

"Thank you for that. My daughter…she can be very delicate, and I didn't want to upset her."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Regina remarked. She felt her mother stiffen next to her, but kept on. "She didn't seem delicate to me yesterday. She had a scare, to be sure, but she was very brave."

"Since her mother passed away, Mary Margaret is all I have. She's my pride and joy, and if I lost her…I know I wouldn't be able to bear it. You saved my daughter's life, and there is no way to repay that debt."

Regina's smile tightened just a bit, and she looked down. Mary Margaret hadn't mentioned that she'd lost a mother. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she said softly. "I understand the pain of losing a parent. It can be…unbearable."

"As can, I'm sure, the pain of losing a child," Leopold told her gently. "And that is a fate that you have spared me from."

"Why don't we sit?" Cora said quickly, gesturing to the settee. "The tea should be ready in just a few minutes, and—"

Her words were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Cora shot her daughter a panicked look, one that vanished as soon as it appeared.

"Regina, can you be a dear and get that?" Cora said quickly, her voice as cloying and sweet as syrup. She turned to Mr. Blanchard and gave him a practiced smile. "Our maid, Belle, has just stepped out to the market. I'm sure she'll be back soon, but in the meantime, Regina can manage, can't you, dear?""

Belle had not been employed by the Mills for six months, when they had all but ran out of money to keep paying her. Regina had done her best to work out some way for her to stay, but Cora had put her foot down, insisting that new dresses for Regina were a higher priority than having a pristine house—she must look her best if she wanted to make a suitable match. Now, someone came in once a week to clean, but they changed so frequently that neither Regina nor Cora ever bothered learning their names. Regina missed Belle—she was kind and quiet, and would look at Regina not with scorn or pity but with understanding and more compassion than most—but she wasn't sure why her mother had felt the need to lie just now. Apparently, Cora was still desperate to keep up the appearance that they had full-time help other than the ancient cook, who had been with Cora's family since before even she could remember and would no doubt keep dishing up meals for them until she dropped dead.

"Of course, Mother," Regina replied immediately, still the dutiful daughter. In truth, she was grateful for the opportunity to escape. Her sensible heels clicked on the hardwood floors—formerly adorned by thick, luxurious Oriental rugs—as she made her way to the front door. She wasn't exactly sure that she could handle any more surprises today.

She opened the door and nearly fell over.

Robin gave her a charming smile. "Good afternoon, Regina."

She stared at him a moment. He was dressed impeccably even in the heat, and his eyes told her that he was pleased to see her. Regina could only gape at him. "What are you—how did you—"

"Who is it, Regina?" Cora asked, her voice slightly shrill.

"Just a traveling salesman, Mother!" Regina called back. Could her mother hear the lie in her voice? She braced herself for the sound of her mother's footsteps, coming to check out the truth of Regina's story, but none came. "I'll just send him on his way!"

She turned back to Robin, dark eyes flashing. "I told you not to contact me," she hissed.

"Contact, yes. You made no mention of stopping by."

"How did you even find me? I didn't even give you my last name." But I was so tired that I forgot to have Killian drop me off a few blocks away when he brought me home…Regina, you fool.

"I have my connections. And Killian was under orders to see that you got safely back. He was the one who told me where you lived. I was worried about you. From what you said about your mother…" He looked well and truly guilty now, as if he was just now realizing that his brilliant plan to track her down hadn't been so brilliant after all. Regina almost felt sorry for him.

"She's fine. She doesn't know anything yet," Regina reassured him. "Although if you keep this up, she very well might. You have to get out of here."

"But I needed to give you something."

Regina sighed angrily. "Fine. Meet me around the back. I'll try to slip away. If you see anyone, I want you to high-tail it out of here. If anyone asks, you were never here at all."

"You'd do a decent job in my line of work, Regina, did you know that?" Robin said admirably. "You seem to be very good at keeping secrets."

"You have no idea," Regina said witheringly.

"Regina, what on earth is taking you so long?!"

"Just one moment, Mother! I…I just wanted to give him a little something from the kitchen. Just some lemonade. It's a scorcher out there."

Regina could almost picture her mother trying to fight back the urge to shout at her again. "Very well, dear. Don't be long." Her tone changed again, back to that syrupy sweet one that nearly made Regina feel ill. "That's my Regina for you. Always thinking of those less fortunate…"

Regina had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother was truly laying it on thick for Mary Margaret's father.

"Don't worry, I have it right here. Sneaking around won't be necessary. Here." From inside his jacket pocket he drew out a small card, about the size of an invitation. Regina took it gingerly, as if it might burst into flames. The paper was thick and creamy, obviously expensive, and the writing was done in an impeccable hand. "Sherwood Forest Grand Re-opening," it said across the top.

"Already?" Regina said, surprised.

"I told you that repairs and cleanup would take about a week. Plus I needed a day or two to make sure the trail had run cold, and that the cops had turned their attention elsewhere. Word on the street is that they're going after August Booth's establishment next. He's a competitor, but a decent one, and hopefully too smart for the police. He'll lead them on such a merry wild goose chase that they'll forget all about my place."

"I hope so," Regina said softly, still looking at the invitation. "So…tomorrow night, then?"

"10 PM sharp. I had hoped you would come as my personal guest."

"Robin, I…"

"I understand your circumstances. If you can't make it tomorrow night, I'll certainly understand. But I'll be waiting either way. I did promise you a dance, after all."

"Robin—"

"Just promise me you'll try to come. That's all I can ever hope to ask for."

His blue eyes implored her. Regina wanted to desperately to say yes, to escape from the mother she barely knew anymore, even if it was just for the night. And she wanted—it almost terrified her even to admit it—she wanted to spend more time with Robin.

"Promise me," he said again, his voice lower now.

"I promise," Regina whispered.

His face lit up, and Regina's heart forgot how to beat for a second.

"Wonderful. I hope to see you tomorrow night. Don't bother with a password. You're my guest, and they'll know to let you in. Goodbye, Regina."

"Goodbye," she said softly. She lingered in the doorway a moment, watching him go, before remembering that her mother and her guests were waiting on her still. She closed the door—loudly, to let her mother know that she was returning to the parlor—and walked back as if in a daze. She hardly paid attention to the conversation between her mother and Leopold Blanchard after that.

One thing was certain. Regina had to find a way to get to Sherwood Forest tomorrow night.