A/N: Just a note, the flashbacks are following Cassandra's childhood chronologically. There are time skips between each chapter's flashback, but I have tried to make it as clear as I can when they're set to avoid any confusion. If I have failed miserably, just comment or message me and I will try to clarify. Enjoy, my lovely humans :)
The fire crackled and the clearing was filled with laughs and cheers. Cassandra sat on a small log wedged between Felix and another Lost Boy named Darrel. She had arrived at the camp around half an hour ago and had immediately been greeted by the Lost Boys who had remained at the basecamp. Everyone had gathered around the blaring campfire and one by one, as they noticed how tired Cassandra was, trickled off to do their own thing.
Now the blonde sat staring into the dancing flames as the Lost Boys around her whooped and howled, their spirits still wild and wide awake. Cassandra just longed for the moment when she could sleep, her hammock called to her. She felt her heavy eyelids fluttering shut and instantly she snapped out of her trance. She rubbed her eyes and sat up straight. Until Peter arrived, she would not sleep, she was determined to wait for him. Although, Cassandra had to admit he was taking his time.
A crunch of footsteps could be heard from just beyond the clearing's borders. Cassandra twisted her neck so she could clearly see the area of bushes from which the noises were coming. Branches were pushed aside and through the opening came a trail of Lost Boys. One, two, three entered the clearing and Cassandra's eyes refused to move from the gap, her heart yearning for her first glimpse of Peter. Two people walked through next, side by side. Clambering to her feet, Cassandra's vision focused solely on the emerald eyed boy dressed in his typical dark green and brown attire.
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears and every fibre of her being ached to reach for him. Her blood thrummed violently through her veins, leaving every inch of her body tingling. The boy looked up and met her gaze causing Cassandra's heart to squeeze tightly in her chest. His stare intensified and the girl realised she couldn't stand there any longer. Legs wobbling, Cassandra stumbled into a run, her limbs felt slow and numb and her surroundings dissolved until it was just the two of them. Cassandra and her Peter Pan. Her saviour. Her breaths echoed in her ears; each of her footsteps seemed like a clap of thunder as they brought her nearer and nearer to the boy she had missed more than she thought humanly possible. After what seemed like a lifetime, she finally reached him.
She dived to Peter, latching her arms around his neck. Her body was flush against his. She smiled as she felt his heart beating as vigorously as her own. At last the boy's own arms lifted from where they hung like dead weights at his side. They slowly wrapped themselves around Cassandra's back. She buried her face in his neck as she felt tears spring to her eyes. His hold was strong. Safe. Enveloped in his protective hold, Cassandra knew everything would be fine. She blinked repeatedly to stop her tears from spilling over, there were Lost Boys surrounding them and she refused to cry. Unless she wanted to get mocked for the rest of her days; she had a reputation to uphold. Cassandra pulled back so she could see Peter's face. Her heart fluttered at their proximity, his breath on her face.
"Hello." She beamed, her eyes conveying the deeper meaning behind the single word.
"Andie." Peter grinned, his bright orbs sparkling. Abruptly, the expression on his face shifted, his features contorting into a cruel smirk as his eyes flickered over her shoulder. This wasn't the face of her Peter, this was Peter Pan, King of Neverland. Seeing this look on his face, Cassandra knew their moment was over, he had a game to play. He unravelled his arms from her back and Cassandra begrudgingly unlocked her own from his neck. Peter placed his hand on her waist and twirled her so she stood next to him.
"C-Cassandra? What's going on?" Henry asked dumbfounded. Cassandra blinked, she had completely forgotten about his existence. The befuddlement and hurt on his face suggested that Henry must have run to Cassandra, greeting her with open arms, only to be completely blanked. She almost laughed. It was hardly like she ignored him on purpose, he could hardly blame her for not even noticing his tiny, insignificant presence.
"Well Henry, here's the thing." She sneered at the shock on his face at her unfriendly tone. She broke away from Peter's side, instantly feeling cold and empty as his arm disappeared. Stepping towards Henry, she crouched down so her face was closer to his, her stare icy.
"I'm one of them. I'm a Lost Boy." She whispered venomously. Henry was flabbergasted at this strange Cassandra, she was so different to the one who had arrived in Storybrooke with his Dad and Tamara.
"B-but how, why? I thought that- so it was all a lie, an act?" Henry stumbled over his words.
"More or less." She smirked wickedly.
"So you're not even my sister?" He asked, saddened. Cassandra grimaced at his words.
"Unfortunately, that part's still true." With that bitter remark, she pushed herself up so she towered over the small boy before her. She strolled past Peter and the crowd of Lost Boys that had gathered. "I'm off to bed."
///
_______
The icy wind bit her skin like a wolf. Cassandra pushed through the harsh sting and continued to clamber out the window. She spied the ground below. It wasn't that far. She was only on the third floor. She swivelled from where she was perched on the window sill so that she was facing her dark bedroom. The room itself held no fond memories for her, it would not be missed.
Lowering herself down, Cassandra latched onto the frail vines that twisted their way up the building. She took a step. Then another. The downwards climb was slow and excruciating as the wind tore through her thin clothes, chilling her to the bone. She had only descended a metre or so when her numb limbs refused to work. Cassandra went to hook her foot on the next section of the vine to find that it would not stay put. Struggling desperately to lodge her foot on the vine, her hand slipped and Cassandra tumbled down.
She hit the pile of snow. It felt like razors as it cut into her already freezing flesh. It was unbearable. For a moment, the girl wanted to give up, to be rid of the cold, the pain, the awful life she had. Then there was an instance of clarity. Cassandra would not give up. To give up would mean to lose. All those who wronged her would succeed, they would go unpunished for their actions. And so, the child braced herself and counted to three. One. Two. Three.
Cassandra pushed herself to her feet with all her might. She wobbled but managed to remain upright. Staggering through the snow, her hatred was fuelled by the icy air. She would make them pay for what they did. She was but a child, how could they be so cruel? However, Cassandra wasn't a fool. She knew that at her feeble age of ten, there was nothing she could do. Her starved figure was no advantage in this situation. She would wait. Grow big. Become strong. Then her patience would be rewarded.
Cassandra was miserable and could not feel her toes. If it weren't for her blistering rage, the girl may have fallen into the snow quite some time ago. The girl may have not gotten up. These drastic actions were only needed because of what Cassandra had overheard earlier that day.
Madame Nox, the woman who had raised her, not out of love but rather obligation. Cassandra had hoped that the awful woman had some boundaries. The bruises on Cassandra's face and back was nothing. The jagged scar on her left temple was nothing to fret over. The days she'd gone unfed due to her temper, she had survived them. But when Cassandra overheard that bitter old hag ranting to her husband about how she 'couldn't take it anymore' and 'needed her gone', well Cassandra knew the dreary orphanage was no longer safe. The woman had muttered the words 'Cassandra' and 'Doctor' in the same sentence. The mere mention of the beady eyed man had alarmed Cassandra greatly.
Doctor Rhodes was not man to be trifled with. He owned the 'loony house' as the other children called it. Word was that people who went there never returned. That they were tortured until they begged for death. Evidently Madame Nox disliked her more than she thought.
Cassandra spotted sight of some woods and nearly jumped with joy. Reaching the trees, she discovered not much snow had gotten past the layer of purple leaves sheltering the ground below. She collapsed, her muscles having reached their limit. Exhausted, Cassandra unwillingly fell into a fitful sleep plagued by nightmares of Doctor Rhodes.
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///
Cassandra woke with a start. She gasped as her eyes darted around her surroundings. Recognising the makeshift tent around her, the previous day's events trickled into her mind like a gentle stream. She was in Neverland. She was home. Cassandra took slow, deep breaths to steady her rapid breathing. Shock and worry ebbed from her limbs. The fuzz from her mind cleared and allowed her to think coherent thoughts. Cassandra hadn't been able to sleep properly for quite some time now. Since leaving to begin her revenge plot (and to aid Peter's scheme), her slumber had been jagged as she restlessly tossed and turned. Dreams twisting into nightmares. She'd always felt like she had to be on watch and now that she was back...it would take some getting used to.
She rolled her legs over the side of the hammock and planted her feet on the soil. The hammock hadn't been as comfortable as she remembered. Her back ached as it longed for the luxuriously snug and cosy beds the other realm had had. She shook her head. What pitiful complaints. Since when had she gone soft? Slight kinks in her muscles were nothing to fuss about. Cassandra stretched her arms over her head and yawned before making her way into the darkness outside.
Boys were rushing about to and fro past her tent. Confused, Cassandra paced through the camp trying to figure out what was going on. Someone gripped her arm and her heart jumped. Out of instinct she twisted her arm as she spun around and went to hit the attacker. Her eyes landed on a very familiar and very amused Peter Pan. Her punch halted midway and she dropped her arm.
"Don't scare me like that unless you want to get whacked." She scowled.
"Maybe if you'd been paying more attention you would've known it was me in the first place." His mouth curled into a sly smile. Cassandra huffed before she recalled what she had been doing.
"What's going on?" She gestured to the figures shuffling around the camp.
"We're relocating. Emma Swan and the others will be here soon."
"Why'd you lead them to camp?" Cassandra asked, she knew there was no way those people could find the base without Peter allowing them to.
"I paid a visit to your dear mother while you were asleep." Cassandra winced slightly at the title he gave to the person she loathed so much. "Gave her a map that would lead her to the boy. She has to admit something about herself for the map to work, she broke the rules." Pan said matter-of-factly, as he began to stroll through the camp, overseeing the preparations to switch sites.
"Admit what exactly?" Cassandra followed, lengthening her strides to keep up.
"Who she really is." Peter's simple words echoed in her head. She pushed down this contemplative urge and focused on the current situation.
"So where are we moving to?"
"We aren't going anywhere, the others will move the camp. It's only necessities being taken now anyway, we'll come back for the rest later." He stated as he came to a halt. Cassandra glanced to the ground to see Henry laying fast asleep, his head resting on his coat. Peter knelt beside him, gently lifting the boy's head as he swiped the coat from under him. Noticing the scarf sprawled beside Henry in the dirt, Peter picked it up before walking away. Cassandra watched Henry's peaceful face for a moment before snapping out of her stupor and running to catch up with Peter.
"So where are we going then?" She mimicked his emphasis on the pronoun.
"We're going to wait for Henry's beloved family to show up." His eyes gleamed with mischief. He muttered something about needing different trousers and a ghastly pink shirt.
Cassandra's eyes widened momentarily. They were coming. Henry's family. She refused to call them her own. She would finally get her chance. Seeing them in Storybrooke had angered Cassandra so much, being unable to act how she wanted had filled her with unbearable frustration. But now, things were different. Peter had Henry, there was no need for the grown-ups anymore. In fact, killing them would be like squashing a bug; it would get rid of quite the nuisance.
"I look forward to it."
///
_____
Cassandra awoke suddenly, sunlight barely peaking over the horizon. She was startled to find a thick woollen blanket strewn across her. A shuffling noise was heard to her left. She jumped, blood hammered in her ears. It was a man wrapped in an old-looking leather coat. He watched her, his face both gruff and tired. His eyes showed concern, pity and a sliver of...guilt? She raised her brow, waiting for the man to say something. Cassandra knew she had nothing to fear from him, if he wanted her dead, he would have let her freeze to death in the night.
"Sorry, I would've moved you but erm..." With his right arm, he gestured to his left and let out a low chuckle. Cassandra's eyes followed where he motioned to. Her eyes widened. From where his other arm should be, a stump protruded from the socket.
"What's your name?" At her wary gaze, the man added. "It's okay, I won't hurt you. The name's Paolo." He gave her a weak grin but still Cassandra refused, shaking her small head. "Alright then, but can I ask what you're doing here in the cold on your own?"
The man swallowed subtly, a glint in his eyes. Cassandra sensed the answer to her question would affect the man's actions immensely. She could lie, say she got lost and her parents would be worried about her. But this fellow looked like he would take it upon himself to make she got home safe and sound. Also, the marks on her face suggested that she had run away from an unhappy situation. So... she could tell the truth? However, that would likely result in Paolo taking her back to that despicable place and thus she'd end up in the territory of Doctor Rhodes.
Cassandra was left with only one choice. Well one choice considering her muscles were fatigued, they didn't have the strength to let her flee. Curling herself inwards to make her seem smaller and more innocent, Cassandra sniffed and rubbed at her eyes.
"Please don't send me back." She wept. "Please, please." The man fell for her act and immediately went to console the girl.
"No, no, no." He repeated. "That's not gonna happen, I promise." He breathed a sigh of relief as the quiet sobs ceased. Cassandra looked to him, her wide eyes hopeful.
"C'mon, let's take get you outta this cold." He held out his right hand. She placed her tiny hand in his larger, calloused one, rough and dry like sandpaper. Pulled to her feet, Cassandra wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and she followed Paolo stomping through the snow as they left the cover of the woods.
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///
Cassandra sat with her knees tucked under her chin. She didn't say a word, neither did Peter who stood beside her. They just waited in silence. Cassandra's veins thrummed with anticipation. Her eyes flitted about the camp, eager to see signs of the visitors that should be arriving any minute. Peter faced away from the camp as he wore the coat that was two sizes too small. Its tight fit wasn't that obvious, not if one was stood at the other end of the clearing, which the Storybrooke residents would be.
Her mind wandered to what Peter had said earlier. 'Who she really is.' These words resonated within her and it was unclear to Cassandra whether she struggled to answer the question about herself or whether she was just curious as to who Emma really was. Cassandra didn't know how she would describe herself though the words lost and betrayed sprung to mind. Although she had found her home, the place where she could be happy, her past still haunted her. It had made her who she was and there was no escaping it.
As for Emma, Cassandra hardly knew the woman, yet had painted an image of her in her head that included so much depth. Emma was the source of all the hatred within Cassandra, she was the trigger. The careless woman caused trouble wherever she went. She managed to ruin the life of an infant even though she was only present for a sliver of an instant. Emma was heartless, ruthless. Though she was selfish enough to seek redemption from her son who was blinded by idealisms. Cassandra didn't need to know Emma more than she already did. She knew enough. She knew what happened to those who crossed paths with Emma Swan.
A twig snapped, rousing Cassandra from her thoughts. She lifted her head to see Emma and Regina emerge from the trees. Hook followed behind along with Snow White and her buffoon of a husband. Cassandra groaned internally. She could feel their sickly optimism radiating from them. She saw the group slow as they noticed the two figures on the small hill.
"Henry!" Emma yelled. "Cassandra!"
Cassandra was slightly startled by that. The concern in the mother's voice as she called for not just one but both of her children. Why would Emma care about her? Even if she had accepted that Tamara told the truth back in Storybrooke, that Cassandra was Henry's twin, it shouldn't have mattered. Not after what Emma did to her own daughter. Cassandra brushed aside this peculiarity, she didn't want to understand what went on in the adult's head.
"Hi Emma." Peter turned around to face the group though Cassandra didn't spare him a glance. She was too busy enjoying the stunned look on the group's faces.
"Where the hell is Henry?" Emma demanded her puzzled gaze flickering to Cassandra. Oh, this was fun. Soon Cassandra would get to see the priceless look on their faces when they realised whose side she was really on.
"You broke the rules. That's not fair." Peter drawled, walking along the dirt bank. "Bad form." He added. "I expected more from you, Captain."
"Wait, this is the girl you were talking about? This is Cassandra?" Hook asked the others, his tone full of hatred as he glared at Cassandra. Regina looked to him, baffled. She was about to ask what he meant but she was cut off.
"Long time, Hook. Miss me?" Cassandra smirked. The quintet, excluding Hook, looked to Cassandra with astonishment.
"Cassandra?" Poor Snow White was far too trusting to believe what was happening right in front of her. "Come on, let's go." Her bright tone forced, as she motioned for the girl to join them.
"No. She's not who you think she is. You can't trust her." He put his hand on Snow's arm, signalling for her to stop waving.
"Oh Hook. Dear, dear Hook." Cassandra stood, her tone sinister. "Can you trust anyone, really?"
"Give me Henry, now!" Emma shouted. She looked like a deer in headlights. Her restless gaze suggested that she had registered how the situation was getting out of hand.
"Sorry. Can't. Don't you know? Cheaters never win." Cassandra could sense Peter's smugness without even looking at him. It was a surprise that boy didn't get whacked more often. Recognising Peter's signal, Cassandra whistled sharply.
A crowd of Lost Boys joined Peter on the hill. They carried torches and weapons laced with dreamshade. The quintet subconsciously huddled closer together. They frantically looked around them as more Lost Boys entered to camp from all sides. Cassandra saw the group preparing to fight as if they had a chance. How adorable. She turned to glance at Peter who was now fairly far away. He met her gaze with a dark and gleeful look. She heard a whoosh as the first arrows flew. Winking at him, she rushed down the slope and into the chaos.
///
______
Seated in front of the roaring fire, Cassandra hummed peacefully. Paolo had been good to his word. The man had brought her back to his cabin, lit the fire and disappeared into one of the bedrooms. He had emerged with a new set of clothes close to her size, her own drenched from the snow, telling her he had a son. After giving her half a loaf of bread, he left the cabin. His reason was that he had gone to get his son. Cassandra presumed the boy must have been at a friend's house.
Now, dressed in dry, clean clothes Cassandra realised Paolo had been gone hours. Where was he? Panic sliced through her chest. Had he lied? Had he gone to Madame Nox? She hadn't told him where she was from, but it really wasn't that hard to figure out she was an orphan. There was a quiet knock at the door before it creaked open.
"Don't worry, it's just me." He smiled though it didn't meet his eyes. Paolo look scared, his lined face screaming something wasn't right. "I have a friend I want you to meet." He stuttered.
"What have you done!" The blonde whispered harshly, with such unexpected venom considering her size. The door swung open with a bang and through it stepped a colossal man who towered over Cassandra.
"Hello girlie." The huge man grinned showing his rotten teeth. "Papa Bates is here to take care of yer now. Get her lads." Two more men entered the cabin and lunged for her. Cassandra kicked and screamed and punched and bit but the men managed to get a hold on her limbs. Carrying her fidgeting form into the frosty outdoors, Cassandra yelled to Paolo.
"You promised me! You lied! You lied!" She seethed, her throat raw.
"I promised I wouldn't send you back from where you came. I said nothing about sending you elsewhere." Paolo corrected. Just before she was out of earshot, Cassandra heard him call to her.
"I'm sorry lassie," Cassandra swore she imagined the apologetic tone to his voice. "They have my boy!"
That was the last Cassandra ever heard of Paolo as she was taken away, screeching to the empty air for her friend the shadow to come and save her. Her pleas received no reply and her future was sealed. Destined to live the life of her kidnappers. To live the life of a bandit.
_____
///
She charged at Hook, ducking as he slashed at her. Cassandra gripped his right wrist and twisted his arm back. As he cried out, she punched his jaw following through with a kick to his stomach. Right before he was about to counter-attack, Cassandra spotted Felix creeping up behind. She smirked.
"See you later, leather-legs." She dived sideward as Felix pounced onto Hook's back. Rolling to her feet, Cassandra spotted three Lost Boys getting knocked to the ground by Regina's magic. She marched to them and recognised a familiar tuft of red hair. Gripping Darrel's hand, she yanked him to his feet.
"You can do better than that, this is child's play." She stated, allowing Darrel to help the other two. Glimpsing bright blonde hair that matched her own, Cassandra left the trio and stalked towards Emma. The woman was stomping up the hill only to be tackled to the ground by one of the Lost Boys.
The two rolled downwards until they reached the flat dirt. Cassandra came to her senses, catching herself standing frozen like a fool. She became alert and strode purposely, heading towards the pair. Her step faltered slightly. She saw Emma refuse to attack the boy, standing up to back away. Why would she...Emma was a ruthless human being, just as much as the next adult. So why was she acting that way? Although she was bewildered, Cassandra did not let her perplexed state stop her from getting what she wanted more than anything in that moment. Revenge.
Cassandra leapt. Her body hit Emma's with a thud and they tumbled to the jungle floor. Using their momentum, Cassandra twisted so they halted as she was on top of their bundle, leaning over her mother. She grinned and moved so her mouth was next to Emma's ear.
"This is for sending me away." She hissed. "This," She pulled back and grabbed a knife from her belt. "Is for making my life hell." Cassandra's hand plummeted towards Emma's chest. This was it. This was the moment she'd been waiting for her whole life. The blade was inches from the woman's heart. Thump.
"Agh!" Cassandra cried. She looked downwards and instead of seeing a pool of red blossoming on Emma's chest, Cassandra saw her knife buried in the dirt beside her. An inch from the woman's torso. Cassandra growled. She glanced around to see the cause of the graze on her knuckles. She saw it. A rock about the size of her fist had been fired at her hand. The force had knocked her fist, causing the arc of the blade to shift to the right. A sharp whistle shot through the clearing and Cassandra looked to see Peter watching her. He shook his head. A mixture of confusion and rage washed over her. He did that. Peter stopped her. Why! He knew about what Cassandra wanted, what she needed. He had helped her to get this far so why now, now of all times, did he get in her way.
Her lips curled into a snarl. Peter's face remained blank, unaffected by the fury pouring from her. His head tilted minutely before returning to its original position. He was beckoning her to his side. For a moment, she challenged him with a stubborn glare which was instantly met with Peter's own. The dark glint in his eyes showed he was not to be messed with. Not this time. He was daring her to disobey him. Groaning, Cassandra yanked her blade from the soil and stormed to Peter and the Lost Boys.
Regardless of their relationship, their history, and their ability to act as equals in other circumstances, Peter Pan was in charge. His authority overruled all wishes or wants. To go against him on such an order would make him absolutely livid. She could see in his eyes that he needed Emma alive, for what reason Cassandra didn't know. But she did know that if she killed Emma now, it would ruin Peter's game. And nobody, not even Cassandra, was allowed to ruin the games of Peter Pan.
///
"Please talk to me." Mary-Margaret pleaded to Emma gently.
"There's nothing to talk about." Emma responded, her tone defeated. "We had our chance and we lost... I lost." 'I lost them.' She added internally, thinking about her two children and how she had failed as a mother.
"Then you have to keep fighting. You heard what Hook said. Pan is a demon. And you're a-"
"What? A saviour?" Emma cut in sharply. "Because if that were true, this map would've shown us the way already. We'd already have Henry and my daughter wouldn't have tried to kill me!"
"It's not your fault you know. I don't want you ever thinking that it is. We will get Henry back. And Cassandra," The woman paused, her voice fiery as she refused to let Emma feel guilty. "Pan got his claws in her. You could never have known that would happen."
Emma gave her no response, too wrapped up in her emotional torment to pay attention. Mary-Margaret broke the silence, her voice taking on a more profound tone.
"Maybe who you think you are, isn't who you really are." She pointed out.
"What do you mean?" Emma asked. Part of her was desperate to cling to anything that would make her anguish disappear.
"Sometimes we think we know ourselves, but we need a push to show us the reality." The raven-haired woman said slowly, allowing her words to unlock a deeper meaning within them both.
"That boy with the knife, you stopped fighting him. Why?" Mary-Margaret was careful not to bring Cassandra back into the conversation.
"Because he was just a boy..." Emma trailed off, her eyes starting to tear up as the real reason tore away at her.
"No." Mary-Margaret didn't fall for Emma's ruse. "There was something else. I saw it in your eyes. Why did you stop? Why?"
"Because when I looked at his face, I saw me." Emma could feel her voice starting to break. The walls she had built were beginning to crack and crumble. In her mind, Emma was no longer talking about the boy.
"Go on." Emma could tell in her mother's eyes that the woman would not give in. She was insistent on receiving a substantial answer. That determined nature, Emma had that. It had always been with her. There were times in her life when it had faded, barely noticeable, but it was always fought back, refusing to disappear entirely.
"That look in his eyes." The image of her daughter leaning over her clouded Emma's vision. Inhaling sharply, she forced herself to continue. "The despair. I had it back when I was in the foster system. Just a lost little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever would. A little girl who cried herself to sleep at night, because-" She could feel herself crying now. Her voice breaking as she took deep breaths to finish her piece. "She wanted her parents so bad. And could never understand- why they gave her up."
"And then you found us." Mary-Margaret said, it was clear Emma's words had deeply affected the woman. "It was too late."
"It's just, on this island- I- I don't feel like-" The blonde sniffled and she could practically hear the heart of the woman beside her breaking. "A hero or a saviour. I just feel like what I've always been." Gulping, she said the word that had echoed in her head her whole life, the word that had remained locked tightly away for a long time, until now. "An orphan."
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the painful thoughts and pictures. Silence flooded her surroundings and Emma struggled to keep her emotions buried under the surface.
"Emma." Mary-Margaret's voice was soft, sadness rang out.
"What?" Emma wiped her eyes.
"Look." Emma did as she was told and was shocked to see, forming on the blank parchment beside her, a map.
"What happened?" She asked, bewildered.
"You accepted who you are." The resoluteness of that sentence. It sent Emma's heart plummeting. She was overwhelmed by the recollection of her past; by the realisation that her poor daughter, who could've had a normal and happy life, who deserved one, had similar memories of her own.