November 1901

There was a ring at the door. Amelia frowned, wondering who would be calling on her at this hour. The household staff had all gone, save for the butler, who always stayed until Glenn returned. She stood up and walked down the hall to the landing of the stairs.

"Mrs. Vanderbilt, there are two young women asking for you at the door," said the butler.

Amelia walked the rest of the way down and into the foyer. She saw Penny and Baby standing in the doorway.

"Thank you, Alfred," Amelia smiled. Alfred nodded and walked back into the kitchen.

"Amelia, you need to come with us," said Penny.

"I can't," said Amelia, beginning to close the door.

Penny put her foot down, stopping the door. "It's Spot," said Penny. "He got soaked. Really bad. Some guys from Harlem really did a number on him – one of them pulled a knife."

Amelia felt her heart sink. She opened the door again. "Is he okay?" she asked.

Baby shook her head. "Not really," she said. "He's pretty banged up."

"I can't go," said Amelia.

"Why not?" Penny frowned.

"I'm married, I can't go gallivanting off into the night to some boys lodging house just to see…" started Amelia.

"To see the love of your life?" Penny offered.

"Shh!" Amelia snapped.

"Look, Amelia," said Baby. "Spot hasn't been doing good since you left. He's been in and out of the refuge, there was problems with Queens…it's been bad, but we've stayed away. We wouldn't have come to get you unless it was bad. Really bad. As in…he's lost a lot of blood, and if he doesn't get proper care, we're not sure if he'll make it through the night."

Amelia sighed and rested her forehead against the door.

"Lily told us it's poker night," Penny said quietly. "Then Glenn won't be home until at least 2 or 3 in the morning."

Amelia looked at her for a couple moments, and then sighed. "Meet me by the fire escape," she whispered, then closed the door.

She turned and climbed the stairs. "I've got a terrible headache," she called to Alfred. "I'm going to lie down for the rest of the evening. I wish to not be disturbed."

"Yes, Mrs. Vanderbilt," Alfred replied, walking into the room.

Amelia went into her bedroom and closed and locked her door. She changed into the simplest outfit she had – a white blouse and a grey skirt. She took her hair down out of its pins and put it in a simple braid, laying it over her shoulder.

She slowly opened her bedroom window, trying to make sure it didn't make any noise. She climbed out onto the fire escape, and climbed down. Penny and Baby were waiting for her in the alley.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"At the Manhattan boys' place," said Baby, leading the way.

The three girls walked downtown as fast as they could.


All eyes were on Amelia when the girls walked in. The expressions were varied – some were surprised, others angry, and still others indifferent. Ice and Flint sat at the base of the stairs, glaring.

"Come on," said Baby, leading her up the stairs.

Ice stepped in front of the stairs, not letting Amelia pass.

"He don't want to see you," said Flint.

"Get out of my way, Flint."

"Come on, boys, let her through," said Baby.

Flint didn't budge.

"Flint, I've already lost my baby this year, and now I'm about to lose Spot. You're looking at a woman with absolutely nothing to lose."

"Let her through, Flint," Jack sighed.

Flint grudgingly stepped to the side and Amelia followed Baby up the stairs. They walked into the bunkroom and Amelia froze at the sight of Spot. He was lying in a bottom bunk, asleep. He had a black eye, and his arms and chest were all haphazardly bandaged, with blood seeping through.

Mikey was sitting in a chair next to the bunk. He looked up and his expression hardened when he saw Amelia.

Amelia put her hand over her mouth. "When did this happen?" she whispered.

"Couple hours ago," said Baby.

"Is he…I mean, will he…"

Baby shrugged. "He's been out ever since the boys found him," said Baby.

Amelia walked up to the foot of the bunk.

"Mikey," Baby whispered and she gestured for him to leave the room with her.

Mikey sighed stood up and walked out behind Baby.

Amelia walked over and sat down in Mikey's chair.

Amelia put her hand on Spot's arm, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. His chest was barely rising and falling with his shallow breath. He'd changed since she saw him last – his arms were a little bigger, his shoulders broader, his jaw more defined – but he was still her Spot.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here," she said. She wasn't sure what else to say. She felt tears begin to pour from her eyes. She bit her lip. "You know, we gotta quit meeting like this," she attempted to joke. Her small smile faded. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Spot. You deserved better than what I did to you." Amelia watched him sleep. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I don't know if I ever will." She sighed. "You changed me, Conlon."

Amelia held his hands in hers.

"If I could do it all over again, I would've walked out that door with you," she said. "Actually, no. If I could go back and do it over again, the minute you asked me if I want to marry you, I would've dragged you to the nearest Justice of the Peace." She was quiet for a moment. "Ten months, and I've thought about you every single day."

She watched him sleep for a few more moments. "What the hell have you been thinking?" she asked. "Getting in fights? A turf war? In and out of the refuge? You're getting reckless, Conlon. You need to be careful. I don't want the girls to come to me one day to tell me you're buried in a potter's field." She paused, looking at him. "Who am I kidding? I'd never let you be buried in a potter's field. I'd give you a headstone as big as your ego, and on it, put 'The King of Brooklyn,' and then in little tiny letters underneath, 'The biggest smart ass that ever lived.'"

She grinned at him, a small part of her hoping he'd wake up with a comeback for her. Her smile faded. "You're going to be okay," she said. "I'm going to get you the care you need."

Finally, she stood up and leaned over, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Goodbye, Patrick," she whispered. She stood up straight and turned.

"So that's it then?" Spot asked groggily.

Amelia whirled around. "You're awake?" she asked.

Spot grinned tiredly and opened his eyes. "When I heard your voice, I thought I was dreamin'," he said. Amelia sat down, smiling softly. "But when you didn't shut up, you woke me."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "I see you have all your customary charm in tact," she said.

"Of course," said Spot. "So is it true? All the stuff you said?"

"What all did you hear?" she asked.

"Something about a Justice of the Peace, but how you've thought about me every day for the last ten months."

"I have to go."

Spot reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't."

"I have to. I shouldn't have even come."

"Why the turn around?" Spot frowned. "Not two minutes ago you were spilling your guts to me, now you're shutting me out again."

"It's one thing sharing my personal thoughts when you can't hear me. Not when you're awake expecting me to come back. I'm married."

"I'm well aware of that fact. So that's it, then? You're just going back to him after sayin' stuff like that?"

"I have to. I made a vow and signed a legal document. I may not have liked it, but I did it."

"Then why'd you come back here?"

Amelia was quiet for a moment. "Same reason you came to the hospital when I was there."

Spot smirked. "Because you still love me."

Amelia sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're acting awfully calm. I thought you were mad and you hated me."

"I am mad at you – eighteen months worth of mad. But I don't hate you."

"You should," Amelia crossed her arms. "You wanted to marry me and I turned around and married some one else."

"No," said Spot. "You did something worse. I wanted to marry you and you wanted to marry me. You had the chance, but it would've been too scary. So you took the easy way out. You married a man you don't love just so you didn't have to be poor."

Amelia pursed her lips, stood up, and stormed out.

"That's right, leave. It's what you're best at."

Amelia stormed down the stairs and headed toward the door.

"The jackass is awake," she called over her shoulder and slammed the door.

Mikey and Jack jumped up and ran up the stairs. "Spot?" Mikey asked, walking up to the bunk.

"She leave?" Spot asked, sighing.

"Yeah," said Mikey.

"Walk her home," said Spot.

"What?" Mikey frowned.

"It's the middle of the night, she shouldn't be walkin' around downtown by herself," said Spot.

"But Spot…"

"Just do it."

Mikey sighed and rushed down the stairs and out the door. He got onto the street just in time to see Amelia round a corner.

"Amelia!" he called, running after her. Amelia turned when she heard some one call her name. Mikey finally caught up with her.

"What is it?" Amelia asked.

"Spot wanted me to walk you home," he said.

Amelia frowned. "He did?"

Mikey nodded as they began walking once more.

"I thought you hated me," said Amelia.

"I do."

"After all I've done, I don't blame you."

"So you just do what Spot tells you, even if you hate it?"

"No." Mikey shook his head. "I do what Spot wanted me to do because he's my best friend. And for some reason or another, he still cares about you."

Amelia sighed. "I screwed up, Mikey. And it's not just Spot. It's everybody. The girls, the Lower East Side boys, Brooklyn. I miss you all every single day."

Mikey didn't say anything.

"I know, okay?" she continued. "I know how Brooklyn works. What's done is done. No matter how sorry I am, or how much I regret it, or even what I could do to make it up to you, it's about that moment of betrayal. I turned my back on you boys."

They walked along in silence for a few minutes.

"Brooklyn really loved you at one point," Mikey said. Amelia looked over at him. "We were all big fans of you and Spot together. Havin' you around made it a little more fun. And it's more than you turnin' your back on him. You were rich and happy and you left him in the dust. The entire time you two were together that was his biggest fear."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "He said that?"

"Only to me," said Mikey. "Amelia, you think…" Mike gave a wry laugh. "You think that runnin' away with Spot would've meant you'd be cold and hungry and poor all the time. Brooklyn takes care of our own. Sure, Jack's boys look out for each other, but it's different in Brooklyn. We're family. Spot would've taken better care of you than your husband probably does. And if Spot got carted off to the refuge, none of our boys would've let you go hungry or cold. Just like you would've never let them go cold or hungry."

Amelia didn't say anything and they walked the rest of the way in silence.


A half an hour later, there was a knock on the lodging house door.

Jack stood up and opened the door. Standing outside was a man carrying a black bag.

"Yeah?" said Jack.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Gershowitz," he said. "I was sent to tend an injured young man."

Penny and Baby shared a look. "This way," said Baby, standing up. The man took off his hat and walked in, past Jack. He followed Baby up the stairs.

Dr. Gershowitz began to clean and redress Spot's wounds. Baby sat on the other side of the bunk.

"Have a nice visit?" she asked Spot.

"What do you think?" Spot grumbled.

Spot clenched his jaw and stared up at the bunk above him. He was angry with Amelia - he was livid. Her choice hurt him deeply, but he would never admit that out loud. What made it worse was the knowledge that it wasn't over for her either. And that simultaneously gave Spot hope and made him even madder.