She knew that Mary Margaret and David meant well, that they had good, decent, honest intentions and that she was, to them, their little girl. But she couldn't turn off twenty plus years of mucking through on her own and dealing with all the crap she dealt with in order to be their little princess all over again. She wasn't going to pull away from them, the desire to at least know was too strong, but she couldn't be what they wanted her to be either.
"You know, you weren't all that different from them too," Emma just remarked, wrapping her arms around the book he shoved there and holding it to her chest while absently allowing him to just push her in a direction. The personal space thing she'd sort of gathered from the botched hat making and kidnapping thing, he clearly lacked any sort of understanding as to what it was in any way, shape or form, and right then Emma wasn't entirely preoccupied with it either. "When it doesn't solve itself, they think 'hey, the savior can do it', and then it's my problem because that's what being the savior is all about apparently." And as much as she cared about them all, as much as she felt horrid for them and wanted to help, sometimes she just wanted someone else to deal with it.
"You know it's bad when a magical portal making hat is your best idea." Now all they had to do was find whatever creepy person who stared blankly through everyone and never answered a question they were asked was running this place and find out if she could take the magic book. Wonderful.