The corridors of Storybrooke High felt like an endless maze as you wandered through them, the knowledge of two lifetimes weighing heavily on your shoulders. The curse had brought everyone else into a strange, sleepwalking existence, but you—like your father, Rumpelstiltskin—remembered everything. Every deal made, every spell cast, every heartache endured.

It wasn’t easy to pretend otherwise, especially when you found yourself in the same small town with people who had once been your enemies and allies, all oblivious to their real identities. And then there was Regina. She was no longer the Queen, but her presence carried that same lingering darkness you recognized too well. The history between your father and Regina hung like a veil over every interaction, the quiet animosity only softened by her complicated affection for you.

One afternoon, she had caught you looking at an old book in the library, your fingers trailing over ancient symbols. She had cornered you, her voice low and cold. “You remember, don’t you?” Her gaze was sharp, her expression torn between fear and curiosity. You’d only given her a small nod, and she sighed, conflicted.