Meeting Emma
@stillalostgirl
Olivia was probably the most tired that she’s been in a very long time. The last time she had a decent amount of sleep was probably a week ago on the train that got her from Arizona to Boston. The seats were nice, unlike this stupid bike, and people left her alone, unlike the nosy people that asked questions or gave concerned glances when they noticed that an eleven year was traveling by herself.
But she could ignore that tiredness and the sore legs and the sore butt because she actually did it. She tracked down her birth mother to this weird little town and she made it. The only problem was she made it and she had no idea where to look now. All her clues and suggestions ended with Storybrooke. So, now here she was bicycling around this small town in hopes of finding the blonde woman from the picture she had stolen out of her case file months ago.
She decided that she needed to maybe stop and ask for help and she figured that the best place to do that would be the police station. It made her sweat nervously to willingly go get help from the cops but she figured small town officers had to be nicer than the ones she’s ran into. So she parked her bike, tugged her only bag,a green duffel bag, onto her sore arms and walked inside the station.
It was quite, which she figured was pretty normal for a small town, and didn’t really seem like anyone was inside. “Uhm hello?” she called. What kind of police station didn’t have people inside of it? Where are the officers?
