A KIND OF MAGIC ↝ Killian Jones

⇒ CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WILMA DIDN'T KNOW how to feel, how to even think, so instead of acting reasonably, she was pacing back and forth in her room in utter panic, acting like a true mess — but granted, perhaps she did deserve to be a little bit of a mess. She did, after all, just find out that her father was in prison despite his innocence, that her mother died because of magic, that her father was from the Enchanted Forest and that she herself could actually see the future. Being friends with fairytale characters, being in love with Captain Hook, seeing magic, that, she could somehow make sense of. But being somehow special herself, being able to predict the future? Now, that was something entirely different. She had lived her whole life in blissful ignorance, but now, she was faced with the facts, and she didn't know what to make of it.

For a moment, she pondered if traveling to New York and seeing her father was the right choice — after all, she had spent years living in the belief that her father was a murderer, and that had evidently created a wedge between them, punched a hole in their relationship and cut their loving bond into merely shreds of hope and whatever remains was left of their wreck of a family. But instead, she settled for another option, and took a seat by the desk in the room before finding a piece of paper and a pen from one of the drawers, and without even thinking what she was writing, she began to conjure up a letter.

"Dad,

I am so sorry for doubting you, for blaming you, for being such an angry, difficult child. But now, my eyes have been opened, and I know about everything. I know magic is the reason mom is gone. I know that, somehow, I can see the future. Kind of struggling with the latter, to be honest. But really, I just want to apologize for turning my back on you, when I should have believed you. You told me you were innocent. I chose to run away from everything and start a new life elsewhere.

It hasn't all been bad, though. I found Neal. I'm best friends with Prince Charming — insane, right? But somehow, it's okay. It makes sense. The most confusing thing is probably the fact that Captain Hook is now a big part of my life. I love him. I've never said it to him, but I know it, I love him more than anything. That's not the confusing part, though. The confusing part is how much it feels right, how I know this is who I will find my happy ending with. So, in a way, you were wrong. I don't regret coming here. I thought I do, but I don't. I don't know what to do about my... gift. Not yet, but I'll figure it out.

Really, my only regret is that I didn't believe you. And I'm truly sorry. x

Love,
Winnie."

Blinking away salty tears, Wilma gulped and closed the letter before shoving it into an envelope, one that she was lucky enough to find from the desk's several drawers. The woman had barely had time to shove it in the pocket of her leather jacket, when she looked through the window of the room and spotted her friends in the center of the town, scattered around the street, and the sight of them instantly made her stand up. The chair made an unpleasant screech, but instead of cringing at the sound, Wilma headed straight out of the room, slamming the door behind her and rushing outside, where she was instantly noticed.

"Wilma, oh my God!", Snow's worried voice was the first one to break through, and the princess took long strides until she reached Wilma, but before the woman had time to close her into a tight squeeze, Killian rushed in and pulled Wilma into a loving embrace. Wilma could tell her absence had scared them, which somehow managed to surprise her — she had never expected to be of such importance for these people, these heroes, these legends, but maybe it was time for her to accept the fact that she was more than she ever thought she could be. She was special, too. More than an ordinary girl who loved rock music and cake.

"Bloody hell, Wilma", Killian whispered, his voice giving away just how truly terrified he had been. "Never do that again. Are you okay?", he asked, eyeing the woman with caution, before taking her hand and walking her to the others. Wilma didn't know how to answer. In some ways, she was okay, or at least she was nearly there, but she wasn't sure if she could say that after everything Pan had told her.