July 21st, 1902
Marie Doherty struck a match and lit the cigar in her hand, "When you're young you think you're gonna live forever."
She threw the match to the street and examined the cigar for a moment, taking only one puff herself, the smoke leaving her mouth slowly as she exhaled. Her eyes suddenly calmed and became heavy as she held it out to the man standing behind her. He was in the shadows and you couldn't quite make out his face, but his presence was familiar and ominous as a thick cloud of smoke flowed seamlessly from his parted lips soon after.
Jack Kelly stood rooted to the spot in front of her, "Yeah well…you ain't exactly old."
Her expression was still calm when she answered him, "I'm younger than you by two years actually."
That meant she was only 18. He said nothing in response, only scanned her face, wondering just how much she knew.
She grinned, "Oh I know all about you Jackie boy. I know who you used to be….I know what you are now…' she looked down feigning disappointment, paused, and then looked back up at him again sighing, "and I know what you did.'
Suddenly the man in the shadows behind her stepped forward and revealed himself.
His piercing blue eyes gave him away first, and then a resolve Jack had only ever seen once before in his life.
In one quick motion Spot Conlon grabbed the hilt of the knife in Marie's pocket, stepped forward once more and stabbed his oldest friend Jack in the chest.