Aurora could scarce believe her eyes. Esmerelda? Her breath caught. "Emma?" she whispered, her voice trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Emma stood motionless, Jonathan at her side. Her gaze was empty, bereft of warmth or fondness.
And then, as if a long-buried memory had been stirred, Aurora remembered. The little girl. The one who had taken everything. The child who had killed her parents.
No… No, it could not be.
Emma smiled, but not the gentle, innocent smile Aurora once cherished. This one was cold. Twisted. Cruel.
"So, you finally remember me?" she said. "Even the heavens seem to turn against you, Aurora. Proof enough of what a mistake you are."
The words struck like daggers. Aurora took a step forward, dazed, shaken. Was this real? Was her mind playing tricks on her?
"Is it truly you?" she asked, voice quivering. "Emma, what is this? Please… tell me this is a nightmare. I—" Her voice broke, and a tear slipped down her cheek.