March 1900

Amelia walked into Tibby's where all the newsies were gathered. She sat down next to Jack and Baby. She saw Specs and Skittery sitting a few tables over. She felt the weight of everything on her shoulders – she was exhausted from working, she was worried what was happening to Spot in the refuge, she couldn't bear to look at Skittery, knowing what she knew, and Maggie still refused to come out of hiding.

"Hi, Amelia," Penny smiled. "You okay?"

"Fine," said Amelia yawning.

"What's wrong?"

Amelia just shrugged. "It's just been a long week."

"I hear that," said Jack yawning. "I been in Brooklyn all night busting Spot out."

Amelia looked up at him. "He's out?"

Baby paid attention to Amelia's reaction.

"Yeah," said Jack. "Brooklyn asked me to help out – I've got so much experience busting guys out and all." He smirked.

"Is he…how's he doin'?" Amelia asked.

Jack shrugged. "Alright, I guess. About as good as any of us after that long in the refuge."

"Right," said Amelia. "So he's…back at the Brooklyn lodging house?"

Baby gave her a questioning look and Amelia just shook her head.

"Nah, he's gonna hide out over here for a while," said Jack.

"Over here as in…Manhattan?" asked Amelia.

Baby smirked at her and Amelia just shook her head and furrowed her brow.

"Yeah," said Jack, clueless to the silent conversation between the girls. "He's gonna stay in our lodging house."

"When did this happen?" asked Amelia.

"Last night," said Jack. "Spot's catchin' up on some sleep at the lodging house now."

Amelia nodded. "I need to get home," she said, standing up. She looked at Baby and Jack. "Um…my parents will be wondering where I am." She put on a smile and walked toward the door.

Just as she walked up to the door, Crutchy walked in.

"Heya, Miss Wakefield," Crutchy grinned as he tipped his hat.

"Hi Crutchy," Amelia gave him a smile.

"May I walk ya home?" he offered her his arm.

"The honor would be mine," she said, looping her arm through his. Crutchy grinned and limped off, with Amelia on his arm.

"Thank you, Crutchy," Amelia smiled when he walked her to her door. "You're a real gentleman."

"Ah, it was nothin'," said Crutchy, waving his hand.

"Here," said Amelia. "Take the trolley back." He tried to hand him some money.

"No, no," said Crutchy, pushing it away. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Crutchy, that's almost three miles," she said.

"Walkin's good for ya," said Crutchy. "It's healthy."

Amelia smiled at him. "Okay," she said. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Miss Wakefield!" Crutchy waved, limping off.

Amelia turned and opened her front door. She closed the door and leaned against it, looking around at the empty foyer. She never realized how loud emptiness could be. No more servants bustled about cleaning and cooking. Their beautiful furniture had all been sold at auction. She walked through the bottom floor. The parlor, dining room, and living room were all empty of furniture.

Amelia walked up the stairs to her bedroom – one of the two remaining furnished rooms in the house. She sat down at her vanity and looked at herself in the mirror.

"Heya, doll," said a voice from the window.

Amelia screamed and startled. She looked over at the window and saw Spot sitting on the fire escape, smirking.

Her face broke out into a smile. He looked like his old self – the color had returned to his cheeks, he looked rested, and like he'd been eating again.

"Spot," she said, standing up. Then something clicked in her mind. She rushed over to the window. "You can't be here."

"Well that's not a very warm welcome," said Spot. "Jeez, my boys get me out of the refuge, and the first person I come see doesn't want me around. Hey Wakefield, where's all your furniture?"

"What?" asked Amelia.

"I peeked in your living room window on my way up here," he said, climbing through the window. "Where's all your stuff?"

"Please leave," said Amelia, once he had pushed his way in.

Spot gave her a confused look and walked into the hallway, looking in all the rooms. "Wakefield, I think you got robbed," said Spot.

Amelia stood in her bedroom, not wanting to face the humiliation.

Spot walked back in. "What's going on?"

"Please, just go," said Amelia, avoiding eye contact.

Spot walked over and sat on the small sofa near her window.

"You're impossible," said Amelia, shaking her head. "You need to leave. I need to get ready for work"

"Work?" Spot snorted. "You work now?"

"Yes, I work now," Amelia snapped back. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Uh, yeah, it is," said Spot, laughing. "I'd pay to see that. I would think your pop would've lined up a new fiancé for you by now."

"Well, that's kinda hard to do when Papa has no standing in society anymore," she said.

Spot stood up and walked over to her. "What happened?"

"We're broke," she said simply. "Between strikes, and failed business expansion, and borrowing more than we could ever pay back, we had to sell our stuff off at auction."

Spot didn't say anything.

Amelia shrugged her shoulders. "The spoiled little rich girl got what was coming to her, I guess." She looked at the clock. "I need to get ready for work."

She walked into her closet. She changed out of the outfit she had on and pulled on her corset. She began lacing it up the front, pulling the strings as tight as she could.

Spot heard gasps and small grunt from her closet. "You all right in there?" he called.

"Fine!" Amelia called, finally tying her corset off. She pulled on a dress she wouldn't be caught dead in during the daytime. She buttoned it up and walked out.

"Whoa," said Spot, his jaw dropping.

"Please don't," said Amelia, sighing in humiliation. She sat down at her vanity and began applying her make up. She powdered her face and neck, put on rouge, eyeliner, and eye shadow. She saw Spot watching her from her side mirror.

"Wakefield, you're not…you know…"

"What?" asked Amelia.

"You're not streetwalkin' for work, are ya?" Spot asked. Amelia gave him a look of disgust. He put his hands up in defense. "Just makin' sure."

Once Amelia was ready, she pulled on her coat and walked out the door, followed by Spot.

"Where's your mom and pop?" asked Spot.

"Mama…works," she said. "Papa is off taking care of, I don't know, legal stuff or something."

"Do they know you're having to dress like that for work?" Spot asked. Amelia nodded. "And they let you?"

"We need the money," she said, walking down the street. Spot followed her. "What are you doing?"

"Walkin' you to work," said Spot, following her onto a trolley.

"Please don't," said Amelia.

"Come on, Wakefield," he said. "You've seen me at my worst, and still stuck by me."

Amelia looked at him, wondering what he meant by that.

They got off the trolley at 42nd street and walked a couple blocks. The sun was beginning to set below the skyline and Amelia walked up to a nightclub.

"You work here?" Spot asked, raising his eyebrows.

Amelia sighed and walked in, followed by Spot. "No," she turned around, pushing him out. "You're leaving. Stay away."

Spot stood out on the sidewalk while Amelia went inside.

I should just go back to the lodging house, he thought. Just go home. I need to get up and sell tomorrow. I can't spend my time hangin' around the Tenderloin District, lookin' out for Amelia. She's smart, she can take care of herself.

Spot sighed and jerked the door open, walking inside. He sat down at the end of the bar, and watched Amelia work. She weaved her way through tables, taking drink orders while the men laughed, talked, played poker, and enjoyed the singing girls on the stage. He watched the man grab and grope Amelia, and she played it off with a smile and a giggle, but he didn't miss the look of humiliation and sadness when she thought no one was looking. He watched her turn her smile and charm on and off like a switch. At one point during the night, she looked up and locked eyes with him. She looked like she wanted to disappear right through the floor.

All night, every time Amelia glanced at the end of the bar, she saw Spot sitting there, sipping on water. The light was turning purple outside as dawn was getting ready to break. The owners closed the doors, and Amelia collected her wages. Having nowhere else to put them, she stuck them in the top of her corset with the tips she'd made that night.

She put her coat on and walked outside. Right outside the side door, leaning against a lamppost was Spot.

"Happy now?" she asked. "Have you gotten your kicks seeing the spoiled rich girl have to work?"

"No," said Spot. "It doesn't make me happy."

Amelia turned and walked home. Spot fell into step beside her.

"What was this all about, Conlon?" she asked, sighing. They got on the trolley, heading uptown. "Why did you follow me to work? Why did you stay at work? Why are you following me home? Why?"

Spot shrugged. "Someone's gotta look out for you," he said, slinging his arm around her neck. "And we're friends, remember?"