December 1897

Winters in New York City can actually be quite beautiful: the light dusting of white powder on the trees and streetlamps, the smell of seasonal treats wafting from the bakeries, and the excessive decorations for the coming of Christmas. It was still weeks away, but I swear that the Newsboys have been buzzing about it since Hallowe'en. I couldn't wait either, but even if it was my favorite holiday, I wasn't talking about it nonstop. There were more pressing issues, right now. For instance, icy sidewalks and slush also came along with the winter season. I was glad I had worn my thick boots today, or walking home in this snowstorm would have made it even more miserable. That's right. I said snowstorm: another thing I hate about winter.

Luckily, I was close to the Lodgehouse. Pushing on through the snow and slush, I trudged up the stairs and inside. After slamming the door shut, I leaned against it and waited for the warmth of the fireplace to penetrate my frozen muscles.

"CELIA!" I heard Race yell from somewhere off to my right. Looking up, I found him stomping towards me with steam practically shooting out of his ears. He was livid. What's happened now? I thought. Race stopped directly in front of me. "Tell Buttons that in order for him to get presents this Christmas, he has to be nice until then."

"What did he do?" I asked, not really caring but trying to sound sincere. My brother Jack and I were always the mediators between the petty arguments among the Newsboys, even though I was younger than most of them.

"He covered my bed in ice chunks from outside. They melted and now my blankets are drenched."

I rolled my eyes. Boys. I yanked off my cap and shook the remaining snow from my hair. "Why can't Jack take care of it? I'm starving." I headed toward the kitchen when Race's answer stopped me in my tracks.

"Jack ain't here yet."

I turned back around in surprise. "He's not?" It was later in the evening, probably closer to eight than seven. Jack and I always got back around five, but the snowstorm had held me back from getting here earlier. "He hasn't come in at all tonight?" Race shook his head. Something didn't feel right here. I pondered that thought for a moment, and Race went back to the stairs. I called after him. "Race, go get Romeo and Mush. I don't feel like Jack isn't just stuck in the snowstorm." Race nodded sullenly before disappearing upstairs. I walked over to the fireplace and held my hands out toward the flames. My fingers tingled as the heat dulled the numbness. Man, the storm is only getting worse. Stupid Jack making me go out there again, I thought. Mush was the first one to come down the stairs, bundled up for the outside. He stood beside me, copying my stance with hands out.

"You think Jack's in trouble?" he asked, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know, but something just doesn't seem right."

"You got some type of sibling connection or something?" Mush laughed.

I punched his arm, but couldn't help smiling. "It's not a brother and sister thing. Don't you feel weird about Jack not being here? I get that it's a snowstorm, but that wouldn't hold him back. It's Jack!" I hoped Mush hadn't picked up on the desperation in my voice. This bothered me more than I was letting on. Just then, Race and Romeo came downstairs. After a few minutes in front of the fire discussing our plan of action, we left the Lodgehouse and out into the storm. I went north while the others went in the opposite directions. We were to meet back at the Lodgehouse in one hour with or without Jack. I went towards Gianni's Restaurant a few blocks away, hoping that Jack had gone to get supper. If he had gone to eat, I was going to be mad that I wasn't invited. The streets were empty, other than the swirling snow and slick ice. As I turned the corner, I saw a police motorcar up ahead. As I began to walk faster, I saw two policemen and a boy arguing. It was Jack. I ran to the confrontation. "What's going on?" I asked, rudely interrupting the man speaking. He was old and fat with deep worry lines on his face. Ew.

"It's none of your business, young lady," he told me, and I stiffened.

Crossing my arms, I glared at him. "I believe it is, if you are arguing with my brother," I retorted. The man looked back and forth between Jack and me. Okay, we didn't look anything alike. I had light blonde hair with green eyes, while Jack had brown eyes with hair so dark it almost looked black. That was something the Newsboys always teased us about.

"Your brother was caught stealing from a bakery in Upper Manhattan," the younger cop snarled at me. He had to be in his twenties, but Jack was the same size as he. Jack's arm was held roughly in his grasp.

I looked at Jack in surprise. "Stealing?" I asked him, and he looked down.

"It's not what you think it is," he muttered under his breath, but I was outraged.

"It's not? Jack, you were caught stealing. I thought we were better than that."

Jack finally met my eyes. "Celia, I was trying to give kids at the Refuge some bread." My anger dissipated. Oh, Jack. I could understand his reasoning now. Both of us had soft spots for the kids who had to live in the horrible place called the Refuge. It was a place for juvenile delinquents, but the stories about the place made it seem more like hell. I had never been there, but a few of the Newsboys had. They're the ones who wake up screaming during the night.

"Why didn't you just come back to the house? I'm sure a few of us could have pooled our money or-"

"That doesn't matter now. He stole and now has to pay the consequences," the older cop snapped as he pushed me away from Jack. Because of the slick road, I fell and twisted my right ankle. A cry of pain escaped before I could stop it, and Jack turned red.

"Don't touch my sister!" he yelled, swinging his fist.

"Jack, no!" It was too late. His knuckles connected with the policeman's nose. The other cop jumped on top of Jack and wrestled him to the ground. The older cop doubled over, clutching his bleeding nose. When he stood back up, the look on his face made my heart stop.

"Well, kid. You just earned yourself a vacation in the Refuge," he said in a vengeful voice. I had never seen Jack scared before, but now he looked absolutely terrified. I watched in horror as the cop clicked handcuffs onto his wrists. Jack didn't even put up a fight, and that's when something snapped in me. I struggled to my feet.

"NO! You can't take him! Please!" My ankle screamed in pain as I hopped towards him. Jack stared at me, still in shock. Suddenly, the elder policemen wrapped his arms around me from behind, holding me in place. I fought hard, but the guy was much stronger than I was. Something changed in Jack at that moment, and his fight came back. The policeman had to throw him into the back of the motorcar and slam the door shut, Jack's yells muffled by the glass. The cop got in the car and waved at his partner to get in. Releasing me, the old cop practically ran to the other side of the car and got it. The motorcar sped off. I tried to run after it, but I'm not as fast as a moving car and especially not with a twisted ankle. I didn't even realize I was sobbing until I slowed to a stop. The wind stung my cheeks, and my hair had fallen out of my cap cascading down into my eyes. I sunk to my knees in shock. Not Jack. Anyone but Jack.

My brother was going to die.