The seat at the far end of the table, the one with the dented tray and the abandoned chocolate milk, was empty. Jane Leigh's empty.

She didn't care. That was new.

The library was a cathedral of silence and dust motes. Jane sat tucked in the farthest corner, half-hidden by a stack of textbooks, a pair of headphones over her ears and a paperback cracked open in her lap.

No entourage. No audience. Just calm.

Regina slid into the seat across from her. The chair scraped against the floor, a deliberate sound in the quiet.

Jane looked up slowly. She pulled one earbud out, her gaze steady.