"Dodger!"
At the sound of his name, the skinny young man shot up. He had been fast asleep, his top hat on his eyes, when someone called his name.
He grabbed his top hat before it fell. "'Ello there, Oliver!" He walked up to the bars of his cell to greet the young boy as he came running down the hallway. Dodger smiled. He'd told Oliver to stay away from the prison, but he had refused. He'd come to see Dodger the week before as well; this was Dodger's second week in jail.
Oliver reached the cell and came up to the bars. "How have they been treating you, Dodger?"
Dodger grinned. "Eh, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Oh, 'ello there Mr. Brownlow, Ms. Maylie. Nice to see ya both." Dodger bowed as both of them appeared behind Oliver.
Mr. Brownlow remained silent. Ms. Maylie smiled. "Nice to see you too, Mr. Dawkins. And please just call me Rose." Dodger blushed at the sound of his real name.
"Alright. Dodger, if you would, miss."
Rose giggled and nodded. Oliver looked behind Dodger, noticing that the cell was empty. "What happened to Mr. Adams?"
Dodger winced. "Uh, 'e was, uh, released, two days ago," he lied. He looked up at Mr. Brownlow and Rose, who understood what had really happened to Mr. Adams.
Oliver nodded. "I really do miss you Dodger."
Dodger's face reddened again. "Aw, don't worry about ole Dodger. So, 'ows life been?"
The young man listened as Oliver told him all about his new home. Dodger couldn't help but smile.
A man walked into the room, looking at the guard watching the visitors. "Let 'im out."
The guard tilted his head. "Wot?"
"You 'eard me. Let 'im out. Orders from the chief."
The guard shrugged and opened the cell door. "Do ya know why?"
"Some special visitor comin', I guess," the man said, and he left.
Dodger shuffled around the guard out of the cell. "No funny business," the guard ordered.
"What's going on, Dodger?" Oliver asked.
"I dunno," Dodger muttered. "I can't think of anyone that was supposed to visit me today, besides yo-"
"DODGER!"
Before Dodger could finish his sentence, a young woman looking Dodger's age ran into the room, weaving around Mr. Brownlow, Rose and Oliver. She was wearing a black, tattered trench coat and a black top hat.
"Cat!" Dodger threw his arms around the girl. "What a nice surprise."
The girl looked up at him. Tears were streaming down her face, and her brown hair was mussed. Her blue gaze was locked on him, but then she noticed the other visitors.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Me names Cora, Cora Ratford. But me closest call me Cat. And me enemies call me Rat."
She bowed, sweeping her hat off her head. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brownlow, Ms. Maylie, and Mr. Twist."
The three looked at Cat, startled. "How do you know our names?" Mr. Brownlow asked, concerned.
Dodger smiled. "Cat knows everyone and everything in London, she does."
Cat turned back to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Please, Dodge, tell me it isn't true! Tell me them rumors aren't true!" She buried her face in his neck.
Dodger's smile disappeared. He returned her embrace. "Yes. It's true."
The girl looked up at him. "But…but you can't! Dodger, you can't get 'anged! You just can't!"