Six years later...

1945

Robin is struggling. He can barely buy bread for his boy, let alone pay a rent. He's jobless; he's been living in his friend's, John Little, quaint little flat in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the city, sleeping on his couch and living of his charity. He feels like a leech. His frustration peaks when he manages to earn some honest money, sweeping chimneys or selling fruit at the Sunday market and tries to repay John for his kindness because he always refuses to accept his money.

"Save it for a rainy day.", he says. But all days are rainy now! He buys all the food he can with that money and brings it home for a growing boy needs to eat. There had been a few times when Robin just went home with empty arms, not because he had spent his money in game or booze but because he had been robbed. The neighbourhood wasn't safe. People were desperate. Robin wouldn't let his boy play outside. Instead, the made toys with metals scraps and wood and gave them to his child in hopes it would keep him from boredom. But a child needs to run and be free and all those safety precautions translated into something very close to depression. Robin was growing out of hope. He wanted a job, his own home, money to buy food and to be able to get Roland a proper education.

All of a sudden, the neighbourhood calmed down. Thieves and other criminals started to just disappear. Streets were clean. One could finally go out and breathe. Children could play outside. Yet, Robin's situation was still the same. His pocket, as well as his belly, were still empty. John felt awful for their misery; he wished he could help him more but he couldn't. He barely had enough for himself let alone for two other people. His job as a metal worker gave him enough to survive the month and pay his bills. He would stretch his budget as much as he could. Every night, he sat by the fire, imagining ways he could help Robin and John would always come up with the same solution; however, that solution had a price and a very high one, for that matter. He was reluctant to send him in Regina Mills' way. He knew what the woman was capable of, but the truth was that Robin wouldn't be able to get back on his feet on his own and he only could do so much. So he pushed fear to the side and sat with him so they could talk; Roland was asleep for he was nursing a bad cold, he wouldn't listen to their words. Robin was patching Roland's coat for the seventeenth time that year by the fire. He was outgrowing his clothes. John had to admit, he was pretty skilled with the needle. He often did some mending on John's clothes as well and they always almost looked as good as new.

"I know a way out of this. I hadn't told you about it yet because it's really... risky. But now that your boy is sick I think it's time."

"What it is then, John?"

"An Italian family is taking care of the businesses in this neighbourhood. They own half of it and the factories not far from here, including the one I work at. They're rich, like really rich. Great part of the money comes from liquor and fraud, contraband but most of all steel. They keep the streets clean and safe and in return people don't complain. If kept happy, they'll keep us all safe and sound."

"What should I do? Where should I go?" Robin asked.

"I still don't think this is a very good idea. You're a cleaver man, Rob! You know a bit of everything. You're honest and these people won't think twice if you cross them. I've seen it. They ripped a man's heart for snitching."

"I understand your concern, but I can't go on living like this. Roland is getting worse by the hour, I lost my wife; I'm not ready to lose my son! If Roland wasn't in my life I'd consider your words against it, but I..."

"I know, Rob. I understand, but it's complicated."

"Tell me, who exactly can help me?"

"There's this guy, Jefferson Hatter. He's one of the big guys behind the big boss. They call her the Queen. People go to him and tell him what they need. They dig deep into their history, family, money, jobs... They find out all they can and then, proper answer is delivered in two day's time."

"This Queen... Do you know anything about her?"

"Her name is Regina, Regina Mills. They say she's a very elegant lady, educated too. Roberto Tremotino; you remember the guy?"

"Yes, the drug lord. What about him?"

"He took her under his wing when she was still very young and made her part of the family by marrying her with one of his men; this guy was already old, with a daughter almost her age. But it didn't matter if it meant the steel industry would bend to his every whim. So, after a few years marrying the girl, the guy died. And thank God! He was a cheap prick. She did it, everybody knows Mills did it but no one talks about it. She played the grieving widow like a Broadway star. Anyway, the daughter ran away; after her father died, she was next in Regina Mills' blacklist. And NO ONE on Regina Mills' blacklist get's to survive."

"I see..."

"Ten years ago, Tremotino's boy... You remember him, don't you? There was this big scandal and all!"

"Yes, I remember."

"He messed around with some girl and knocked her up. The girl couldn't provide for the child and he thought, since he and Mills knew each other well, and had practically grown up together, that he'd ask a favour from her."

"To raise the boy?" Robin asked, impressed.

"Exactly; and, surprisingly, she did! If you want to go down this path, she's your best shot; the fact that she's a parent too is a card in your favour. But think twice before you go. Don't go there before weighing the risks first."

"There's no time to think. Where can I find this Hatter bloke?"

"Downtown, in that Italian café we went once. He's often there. He'll be the only one wearing a hat inside. He never takes off his hat unless he's in the presence of the Mills woman."

"I'm going there now. You stay here and take care of my son."

"Be careful, Robin!"

Robin grabbed his coat and bonnet and ran out the door.