The campus was always so beautiful in the fall. This time of year, the grounds were breathtaking. The trees were all shades of reds and gold, and in the wind they danced like fire. Though she didn't fit in with the fancy academics she walked past, in their ties and clean suit jackets, Allyson found some kind of peace in the middle of it all. No one took notice of her as she made her way to their classes, the only ones who stopped her did so to buy a morning edition of the paper.

Technically, she wasn't supposed to be on the grounds of Fordham University at all, being some grubby street urchin, and she stuck out like a sore thumb with her dirtied clothes – a shirt that was at least a size too big for her she had stolen from her brother, a pair of denim overalls and worn-out boots with a hole in the toe of the left one. She had struck up a deal with one of the professors so that she would deliver his morning paper to him personally; in return, she would get paid an extra few cents. The professor was a kind man, graying at the temples and balding at the crown of his head, and he always wished her a good day after she stopped by – he didn't seem the least bit disturbed by her untidiness, or the fact that she was a girl. Even if he wasn't so kind, the extra pay was worth it, as well as having an excuse to cross the campus to reach his office.

He had been occupied that morning, talking over a stack of papers with a student, but had still motioned her in, dropping the coins into her palm before she left. Leaving the building, she inspected them before burying them in the pocket of her overalls, more so admiring their shine than checking she'd been given the right amount. It always seemed like the professor polished his cash, though she had once mentioned that to Red, who laughed at her.

"Rich people don't got dirty money," he had said, matter-of-factly. "It only gets grimy when we touch it."

Crossing the road off of the campus, Allyson headed to the divide between the University and the city beyond, a few blocks down. In general it was a good place to sell, with decent foot traffic passing through, between students and the regular folks just going about their business for the day. But despite the good number of customers, she also found herself drawn to the construction that was going on in the area. She'd learned back in late August from a chatty construction worker who had bought a newspaper from her that it was to be a zoo; now, in mid-October, it was finally starting to take shape. A gate had been erected at what was to be the entrance closest to Fordham University, the turnstiles set up, but locked tight so no trespassers could enter before the park was ready.

The zoo was bound to attract throngs of people when it opened, particularly the hoity-toity types. They were the ones who tended to pay her a little more generously, on account of her being a girl on the streets (if they weren't inclined to berate her instead). On top of the new potential customers, the zoo itself was bound to bring excitement. Allyson could practically hear the headline – "Hungry Tiger Escapes Bronx Zoo," or something of that ilk, – and could only imagine how well she would eat that night. Of course she was interested in the zoo herself, and what strange animals it would bring to New York. But it was more important for her to make her money than to explore a park.

Her stack of papers dwindled as the morning rush passed her, and with the fresh autumn air in her lungs, she felt invigorated, as though her day was bound to go well. It helped that the headline was one that would sell well – "South African Boer Republic Declares War on Great Britain." Nothing like a war to sell your papes for you. She barely had to try to make her sales.

She was content to enjoy her day out doors, the weather not yet having turned cold, admiring the turned leaves in the trees overhead, when down the street she spotted a familiar, lanky figure approaching. Unconcerned, she continued her work, handing out newsprint as she announced the day's news as Red made his way toward her through the crowds of the city. She startled slightly however, when his hand clamped on her shoulder tightly. "Allyson, something's up."

Brow furrowed, she turned to face him. "What is it?"

His expression was uncharacteristically concerned, mouth pinched as his nearly black eyes examined her. "It's your brother, he's looking for you."

"Teddy?" Allyson immediately straightened, ready to bolt wherever Red pointed her. "What's wrong? Where is he? Is he okay?"

Red shrugged, face relaxing slightly as he searched the inside of his vest for a cigarette, returning to his usual laid-back demeanor. "It ain't Teddy, it's the big'un." Red extended his arms to his sides, trying to convey a hulking figure with his spindly limbs. "What's his name, Matt?"

"Matthew," she corrected him. "What the hell does he want?"

"I'unno, he just told me to find you, that it was important. Seems awful pissed though." Red flicked a stray curl out of his eyes. His dark hair was always unruly, escaping the cage of his hat, perpetually irritating him. Though Doc had offered to do it for him, he refused to cut it more than once a year, despite how much it bothered him. "You oughta hurry."

Allyson gathered up the last of her morning editions, tucking them under her arm as she followed Red back to the distribution office. They moved as quickly as they could, though Allyson's thoughts weighed her down – what could Matthew possibly want from her? It was rare that either of her older siblings went out of their way to find her, especially Matthew, who mostly ignored Allyson's existence since she had run away from home. Teddy, on the other hand, would occasionally escape from school to find his older sister, wanting to spend the day with her as she sold her newspapers.

The closer they got the news square, the more stiff Red's posture got, clenching his fists and hunching his shoulders. Allyson mostly ignored him, knowing that her brother tended to have that effect on people.

They entered the square to see Dusty and Matthew engaged in a staring contest, grumbling at one another in low tones. There were a few of Dusty's friends standing around nearby, but none of them dared to get as close as Dusty was. Allyson's brother was mostly made of muscle, and sported a barrel chest. He had inherited their father's square jaw and perpetually narrowed stare, though there seemed to be more malice in Matthew's expression than usual. Despite his intimidating appearance, Allyson couldn't help but remember him as he had been as a child, pudgy from always sneaking sweets before dinner, wearing glasses that were too large for his face, struggling to keep up with his sisters as they ran through the markets to help get things for dinner. He wore the same spectacles now, though they fit him properly – though they usually made him look oddly scholarly in comparison to the rest of his appearance, with the expression he was wearing they made no difference.

Dusty, with his straw-coloured hair and short stature was rarely what anyone considered imposing, but his stormy grey eyes were another story entirely. Despite being a head shorter than Matthew, Dusty's chin jutted out stubbornly, his unnerving stare set against the older boy's own glower. Dusty looked to be particularly annoyed, meaning her brother had already started throwing insults. The two seemed to be boiling to a fight, until Allyson stepped into view and Matthew's glare swung to her.

"Allyson!" Matthew barked her name out like a command, in a voice not unlike their father's. Allyson jumped involuntarily at the sound, bumping into Red, who was standing behind her, internally cursing herself for cowering like a dog.

"What is it, Matthew?" She straightened up, pushing her braided hair behind her shoulder. She forced her voice not to tremble, not wanting to look scared of her brother. Though he'd never made any attempt to hurt her before, she knew he could do so easily if he wanted to. Dusty regarded her carefully before stepping back from her – at least someone thought she looked confident enough to stand up to her older brother.

"You know exactly why I'm here," Matthew took one menacing step forward, and immediately Red was at her side, lips clenched tight around his cigarette, smoke puffing out his nostrils. In any other situation Allyson would think he looked more comical than anything, but she appreciated his instinct to back her up. "Where is he, Allyson?"

"Where's who?" she asked, her poised tone wavering. Her heart dropped, dreading the answer before she heard it.

Matthew's glare soften slightly before returning. "Where's Teddy, huh? What did you do with him? Put him to work like you rats?"

Both Red and Dusty bristled at Matthew's insult, ready to pick a fight. Allyson felt like she was sinking into the cobblestones. "T-Teddy? He's missing?"

There was a silent moment where Matthew considered her, taking in her expression. He took a step back, but crossed his arms defensively. "You're always sneaking him out. We thought you might have had him."

Allyson shook her head, barely hearing him. Her body felt cold as she considered the thought of her younger brother out on the streets, lost. "What do you mean he's missing?" Her voice was weak and fearful, "How long has he been gone?"

"Only a little over a day, I've been looking for him since we noticed he's gone. I –"

"You what? You lost him?" Allyson found her voice again suddenly as it came roaring from her, and she stepped to come face-to-face with her brother. He flinched back, not so tough now, as she raised her hands at him. She wanted to hit him, but instead clamped them down on his bulky shoulders. "You lost him, Matthew?"

"I didn't –"

"Didn't do your only job as his older brother? You failed to keep him safe? You fucking lost him, Matthew! How could you!"

"I didn't lose him! He ran away!" Matthew finally yelled back, pushing Allyson off of him. She stumbled back, nearly losing her footing before Dusty caught her by the shoulder. "He ran away like you! It's your fault, not ours. You know he looks up to you, he wants to do everything you do."

She clenched her fists, wanting to hit him again, but she knew he was right. Teddy always wanted to follow her around, always got excited about her 'adventures' on the city streets. But Matthew was still supposed to watch their brother. He was the oldest.

She didn't have a response. Matthew shook his head, his expression a strange cross between annoyance and disappointment.

"I'm done looking for him, I've done all I can. You better fix this, Allyson. You better be able to find him," Matthew demanded. Of course she would find him; he knew she was the only one who knew the streets well enough to find their brother.

She nodded weakly, but still managed to spit out "it's your fault too, Matthew."

He ignored her, storming off, giving one last meaningful look in her direction before he disappeared from view.

"Allyson," Dusty said with a soft tone that she hadn't heard him use in months, especially not to her. She noticed his fingers wrapped around her upper arm and shook him off, but he didn't step away from her. "What can we do?"

She swallowed dryly, still feeling like the world was trying to swallow her up, as though her feet were somehow too heavy to stay on the ground without sinking. She felt sick. "I have to do something."

Red nodded solemnly, gently touching her shoulder. "Of course," he paused, offering her his half-smoked cigarette, which she declined with a small shake of her head. "We'll help. We need to search for him, right? There have to be places your brother didn't look for him, yeah?"

"Yeah," Dusty paced forward, looking as grounded as ever. "We'll get some of the others to help, too. We'll cover more ground." He waved one of the boys standing off to the side over. "'Eh, Rook, c'mere."

Allyson recognized the tanned, pretty-faced boy as one of Dusty's closest confidants. He sauntered over, hands pocketed. As always, he was trailed by a younger boy as the two stopped to hear Dusty out.

"You an' Opera go find Doc – tell'er to get Pip and Canner, too. Meet back 'ere." The two boys nodded before taking off in the direction of Doc's usual selling spot at the nearest street market. Dusty turned his attention to Red. "You and Twist gotta check the asylum. Maybe he got picked up and we'll be able to spring 'im, right?"

Red nodded, dashing off, leaving Allyson with Dusty. He stared at her expectantly. "Well? Where do you think he mighta gone?"

She shrugged, unable to look into his eyes, instead focusing on the hundreds of freckles that smattered his cheek bones. He cursed under his breath. "Al, enough. You can carry on with ya' refusing to talk to me later. Right now, I'm tryna help you find your kid brother, okay?" When she didn't respond, he grumbled again. She looked up at him, seeing him looking defeated and small, something she hadn't previously though possible. Dusty had always been confident and severe, trying so hard to be his older brother. Vulnerability wasn't something he was capable of. But the voice he spoke with was sad as he said, "You're the one who hurt me, y'know. I should be the one treating you like shit."

"The zoo," she said, electing to ignore his defeated tone. She was tired of everyone trying to make her feel guilty, even if they had a point. "He knows I sell there. He probably wants to see the animals, but it's not open."

"Could he get in?"

"Sure. He's small for his age."

"Rook and I will go when he gets back, then. What does he look like?" Allyson glared at him for this. Most of her friends had met Teddy before. Dusty should know what he looked like. She got a glare in return. "I'll tell the others who don't know him so well."

Allyson crossed her arms with a sigh. "Brown hair, brown eyes. Like me. Small for a 10 year old."

"Helpful."

"Look," she snapped, "You asked me. What do you want me to do? If I knew the exact number of freckles on his face I'd tell you. But that's all I have. He looks like me. He's a little kid, alone, probably lost in the Bronx outside of his neighbourhood. He probably looks like one of us but better fed."

Dusty had stopped listening, watching as Doc turned the corner into the distribution square. She sprinted toward Allyson, clasping her hands. The tiny German girl was even more wild-looking than Allyson was used to seeing her, her usually neat blonde braids having come undone in her run over. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. My brother's missing."

Doc's green eyes widened behind her round wire-rimmed glasses, making them appear obscenely huge. "Oh no," her voice trembled, her accent slipping in as her concern deepened. "What do you need me to do?"

"I… I don't know. We have to find him, Doc."

"Natürlich! Where do you need me to look?"

"Uh, I don't know. Anywhere." Allyson's frustration with Dusty dissipated, and she began to feel hopeless again. "I don't know where he is, I have no idea where to start..."

"So we'll start from here, and move outwards." Doc patted Allyson's hand comfortingly, before turning to Dusty. "You got Pip and Canner, ja?"

He nodded, but took a step back. Like most people outside of the group that lived with her, Dusty found the spindly immigrant girl to be strange and unfriendly. "They should be 'ere soon."

"Get Pip to ask their friends around if they have heard or seen anything. He's the same age as Pip, right Allyson?"

"Around his age, yeah."

"Then maybe he's with someone they know. We'll find him, I'm sure of it."


Doc and her had taken off immediately, but hadn't turned up anything even after hours of searching. It was starting to feel truly hopeless. They scampered from block to block, ducking into alleys and hideaways as they came across them. Doc kept a positive attitude, trying her best to encourage Allyson, but as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, even she seemed to grow tired of keeping both their spirits up.

"Maybe someone else found somethin'?" She suggested weakly, dusting off the front of her plain brown skirt. Nervously she pulled at a loose thread at its hem where her blouse was tucked in, as she waited for Allyson's reply.

"Red would have found us." Allyson kicked at the ground in frustration. She wanted to sit down. She wanted to break something. She wanted to cry. "Let's go."

They walked back the way they had come in silence, Allyson stewing in her frustration. Her vision blurred as she fought against her tears; though it was just Doc, she didn't want to let herself cry. Crying wouldn't accomplish anything, it would only make things worse. Her feet were sore, she was starving, and she'd wasted her entire day to find nothing, so she was down on cash, too. They passed through the circulation square, the offices of major papers now locked up for the day, the evening edition having gone out already. She realised the sacrifice her friends had made on her behalf. Because of her, they had been out searching instead of making enough to buy dinner, all for nothing.

Turning up a familiar corner, they saw the group congregated around the steps of the boys' lodging house, everyone looking as tired and hungry as Allyson was feeling.

Dusty sat in the middle of the top step, in the way of anyone who wanted to pass. Five of his boys, including Rook and Opera from earlier flanked him, passing out cigarettes and matches. He regarded Allyson without emotion as she and Doc arrived. Everyone else's attention turned to her as well, and they all muttered their apologies.

"Sorry, Al." Red sat on the handrail with his brother, Twist, leaning over from the outside beside him. Having adopted each other as siblings, the two looked nothing alike, but especially in comparison to each other the differences were glaring. Red was not a scrawny guy for a street rat, but beside Twist, he looked like a twig. Twist was built like a boxer, barrel chested and stern looking, despite being only fourteen years old. Where Red had a mop of black curls and a pale complexion, Twist was honey blonde and tanned. Despite their obvious physical differences, Allyson had never seen born siblings as close as the two of them.

At Red's feet sat Canner and Pipsqueak, huddled close together as they divided a sandwich. It was surprisingly large, something Canner and Pip maybe could have bought together – but judging by Red's vigilant monitoring of the transaction going on between the two, it was more likely he bought it for them to share. Thoughtfully Canner extended a portion of his half to Allyson, which she accepted with a slight pang of guilt. Canner needed the food more than her, being younger by three years and sickly. He sometimes wouldn't eat for days if no one made him. Doc squeezed in to sit beside the boys on their step.

"What do I do now?" She asked quietly, looking at her feet rather than at the people sitting in front of her. Everyone was quiet for a moment, before Pip piped up.

"You have to keep lookin' for 'im, Al." Pipsqueak looked up at her, concern obvious in his expression. When he spoke, some of his letters whistled from his newly lost front tooth. "He's out there. You gotta find 'im – you can do it."

Allyson allowed herself a weak smile, which Pip returned. She ruffled his hair before taking a seat on the ground by Doc's feet. "I just don't know where to look."

"Then you just have to try and imagine where he'd go." Twist's low voice surprised her, as he spoke rarely to anyone other than Red. "He'll be found. You just need to think about where to look. It'll come to you."

Allyson stayed out on the ground thinking until the sun had set. When Red had finally got up to lead Twist, Canner, Pip, and Doc home to the cellar they lived in, beneath Red's Grandfather's workshop, she didn't follow despite his pointed look. She wanted to be alone, to rack her brain of anything that could lead her to Teddy. Matthew hadn't given her anything to go off of. Had he left a note? Had he brought anything with him? She could go home and ask him, but she balked at the idea of returning to her family's apartment at the moment. She couldn't go there, not until she had Teddy. She'd have to do it on her own.

As the moon crawled higher into the sky, most of Dusty's boys headed in for the night, until only Rook and Opera were out. Rook had pulled a tin flask from the inside of his vest, while Opera smoked, eyes turned up to the clear sky, admiring the view. The two were ignoring her for the most part, aside from the occasional glance in her direction. She could hear them making their plans for the next day behind her.

"Look, I'm not going to come back 'ere 'til I win back everythin' from Race, right?" Rook announced loudly, and Allyson could practically hear Opera roll his eyes. She turned to look at the two, which they ignored. Rook was wiping his hands viciously with a rag as he was talking. "I can't stand to owe him anythin' more, Op. It kills me, every damn time he sees me he rubs it in, like I don't know I've lost every game in the last month."

"Maybe ya' should just avoid Manhattan for the time bein'?" Opera offered, snuffing his cig out on the stone staircase. He continued on about Rook's debt maybe being forgotten if he didn't acknowledge it, to which Rook laughed. Something clicked in the back of Allyson's mind, and she shot to her feet.

"Manhattan!" Both boys jumped at her sudden exclamation. Rook's eyebrows raised to his hairline as he tried to understand the situation.

"What about it?"

"That's where he would have gone!" At the confused looks Rook and Opera exchanged, Allyson sighed in frustration. "My brother! He'll have gone to Manhattan!"

Rook frowned, trying to piece together what she was getting at, looking more interested in Allyson's outburst than she had expected. "Why on Earth would he have done that? Manhattan don't got much more to offer than the Bronx does, y'know."

"Except Jack Kelly," she said, driving her fist into her open palm. It had been months since she had even thought of the 'leader' of the Lower Manhattan boys. Rook still looked confused, but Opera's mouth rounded in realization.

"The strike, right?" He said, grinning smugly for figuring it out before his older friend.

Allyson nodded, "Yes! Exactly. Teddy believed the strike was a huge adventure he missed out on. I told him about Cowboy, and he always seemed to see him as a hero." She had admittedly been a touch jealous of this fact, that she was no longer the only person who inspired her younger brother. But now, she was silently thanking Kelly for finally giving her a lead. "I'd have to guess that he wanted to meet him. I need to leave for Manhattan right now."

"Uh-uh, that's a bad idea." Rook pushed his hair flat against his scalp, foot tapping against the step erratically. "You're Spinner, right?"

Allyson bristled at the name. "Not anymore. Just Allyson, now."

"Well, Just Allyson; do you even know Manhattan?" Rook nudged Opera with his elbow, and the younger boy nodded in agreement. "You'll get lost if you dunno which way's up. Besides," he gestured vaguely at her, "I'm sure there are some unsavoury folks who would love to pick up a pretty young lady like yourself."

She sneered at him. "I ain't some weak little thing. I've been out at night on my own, before, you know."

"Didn't say ya were weak, just sayin' it's dangerous for kids like us to wander around at night. Especially if you don't know where you's goin'."

"So what do you suggest?" She crossed her arms defensively. Rook was obviously wanting something. "What do you want?"

"I'm just tryn'a help a friend, Just Allyson," Rook feigned shock, mouth dropping open in a gasp. "We'll just be headin' to Manhattan ourselves tomorrow mornin', y'know? So you may as well tag along with us – we know our way around 'Hattan almost as well as we know the Bronx."

"Like a second home," Opera added.

"And you want what in return?" She still wasn't buying their charity.

"Nothin' more than your lovely company! Though, since ya mention it," Rook smiled deviously, as though he had come upon a great revelation. "A little pay wouldn't hurt. Can't say I'm the most well-off fella that I knows of."

Allyson rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but think that if her ten year old brother could manage his way to Manhattan unassisted, she could, too – if he even was in Manhattan. Rook was still looking at her expectantly. "Fine. I'll take your guidance."

"Fantastic!" Rook clapped his hands together. In tandem, he and Opera stood from their seats. "Five cents to get ya there."

"Two."

Rook looked annoyed, but persisted. "Two cents, plus a favour, and we'll call it even?"

She didn't like the sound of that, but was more willing to part with a sliver of her dignity at a later date than any bigger chunk of her hard earned pay. "Deal."

She and Opera spat into their palms, shaking on it. Allyson extended her hand to Rook, who shoved his hands into his pockets. "I don't shake. My word is my word."

"He doesn't like dirt," Opera explained before Rook could stop him. She looked at the older boy's hands, noticing how impeccably clean they were. Her own fingers were stained black and gray near permanently, unless she scrubbed them raw. She retracted her hand, shoving it in her overall pocket, instead nodding at Rook.

Rook, pleased with the arrangement, turned to head inside the lodging house. "We'll see you bright and early, Just Allyson."