September 1902

"I think you girls will be okay here," said Mikey, looking around the tiny apartment. "I mean, it's not much, but it's better than our rooftop. Especially since it's getting so cold."

"You sure you girls can afford it?" Flint asked.

Amelia nodded. "We've done the math, and with our savings we can stay a couple months' rent ahead of schedule."

"And I'm going to try and find better paying work than being a newsie, so we have a little more security," said Lily.

"What do you plan on sitting on?" asked Mikey.

"Or sleeping on?" Flint asked, looking into the bedroom.

"I had some furniture in my old room at home," said Amelia. "Henry and some of the other newsies are going to put it into a carriage tomorrow while my father's at work and are bring it here."

"Well, we'll miss the feminine touch you bring to our rooftop," Mikey joked.

"With Spot in the refuge, and you moving in here, Pint's not going to know what to do with himself," said Flint.

"He'll be fine," said Amelia. "I know you'll keep an eye on him for me."

"Speaking of which, we better get goin', the morning edition will be out soon," said Mikey.

"Yeah, I need to be at work soon too," said Amelia.

The four of them walked out of the apartment together, and went their separate ways once they hit the street.

Amelia walked down the street towards her shop. She was proud of herself for finding a place for her and Lily to stay on her own. They had done the math, and if Lily was able to sell enough every day, and Amelia got enough hours every week at the store, they would make their rent and have just enough for a couple meals a day.

She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize who was walking towards her until he was almost upon her.

"Well, well, well, Amelia Wakefield Vanderbilt," said the familiar voice.

Amelia looked up to see Brian Rockefeller, her first fiancé, standing in front of her.

"Rock…I mean, Brian…hi," she said.

Rock gave her a once over. "So the rumors are true. You're slumming it in Brooklyn."

"Yes," she nodded. "I have an apartment here, and work in a little shop on the next block."

"Making it on your own?" he asked.

Amelia nodded.

"I heard you didn't attend the trial of your late husband's murderer," said Rock.

"I was a little busy," said Amelia.

"You used to complain about Brooklyn ruining the view from your bedroom window," said Rock. "You said it was an eyesore on the map of New York."

"People change," said Amelia.

Rock laughed. "No they don't, Amelia. They adapt, but they never change. One day you're going to wake up and you're going to realize this little life you've built for yourself isn't worth two pennies. And you're going to go crawling back to papa."

Amelia set her jaw. "You're wrong."

"We'll see," Rock chuckled as he continued on his way.

Amelia kept walking, willing time to go faster so Spot could finally be with her once more. She never realized how much she had emotionally depended on Spot until he wasn't there. First her father, then Rock. She started doing the calculations in her head for how long she'd have to save and how many meals she'd have to skip until she saved enough to bribe the warden again to see Spot. By the time she saved that much, he'd be out of the refuge again.