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Summary
Regina yanks her arm from Emma’s grasp and spits out, “Don’t touch me,” and it’s all wrong, it’s all a mess and it’s Emma’s fault. Because she couldn’t let someone else die. She rails at the unfairness of it, at this new coincidence that puts her directly in her vaunted dynasty of Women Screwing Up Regina Mills’s Life. She wants to complain, to deflect, to point out that she couldn’t have known–
Regina turns around, her eyes very red, and a thousand excuses rattling through Emma's mind fall silent. “What the hell do you want now?”