STORYBROOKE - PRESENT

Mary Margaret, who had escaped her cell, ran through the woods.

---

Henry was on a bench reading his book at the station. Emma and Mr. Gold walked in.

"Henry. What are you doing here?" Emma asked.

"I came to congratulate you," he told her.

"For what?"

"Your genius plan."

"And what plan's that, Henry?" Mr. Gold wondered.

Henry didn't answer and Mr. Gold nodded. "Right."

He walked off, leaving Henry alone with Emma in the hall.

"Sorry," Henry apologized. "I thought Mr. Gold was in on it, now that he's Miss Blanchard's lawyer."

"In on what?" Emma asked.

"The escape plan."

"The what?"

Mr. Gold called from the other room. "Sheriff, could you join me, please?"

Henry walked into the room and saw Mary Margaret's empty cell.

"She's gone," Mr. Gold said.

Emma looked at her son. "Henry, what did you do?"

"Nothing," Henry answered. "She was gone when I got here."

"Her arraignment's tomorrow," Mr. Gold said. "If she's not there..."

"She's a fugitive," Emma finished. "Doesn't matter if she's convicted for Kathryn or not -- she's screwed I have to go find her before someone notices she's missing."

"Oh, you mean Regina?"

"The arraignment's tomorrow at eight A.M. I'm sure she'll be here bright and early to celebrate her victory."

"Well, you have until eight A.M., then."

"Uh, what about me?" Henry asked. "How can I help?"

"Go home," Emma said.

Henry frowned. "Emma, if she leaves Storybrooke..."

"Not now, Henry. Come on."

Mr. Gold turned to Emma. "Miss Swan, I know time is of the essence, but if Miss Blanchard doesn't return... Her future's in jeopardy. And if you're caught helping her, so is yours."

"I don't care. I'd rather lose my job than my friend."

---

Emma got in her car and drove along a deserted road near the woods. In the fog in the distance, there was a figure. Emma didn't notice him in time and narrowly avoided a man. He jumped out of the way and fell down an incline.

She got out of the car and ran to assist him as she said, "I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I didn't see you there."

"Uh, I think so," the man replied.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine. I'm not used to sharing the road with cars so late. You're the Sheriff, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"What brings you out here in the middle of the night?"

"Oh, nothing to worry about. I'm just looking for a lost dog."

"Well, I hope you find it."

"Thank you."

Jefferson tried to walk, but had an obvious limp.

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