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Sunshine and Angel Higgins walked next to each other side by side, their heads down and their hands in their pockets. They had finished selling their papers and were now just walking, letting their tired legs take them wherever they wished. They were both of an average height, not very tall, considering their parentage. They both walked with the same stride and fluid motions, but when they lifted their eyes to the sun, the rays bounced off light brown eyes and dark blue ones. "So, you have a good day Sunny?" Angel asked quietly. Her sister nodded and stared at the ground. Angel sighed and kicked a rock. It seemed her sister was becoming more impossible to talk to with each passing day. Mama said it was because she was growing up and she needed more privacy, but Angel knew that already. Heck, she was growing up at the same time her twin was and SHE didn't have this problem of not being able to speak! It was aggravating for the outgoing Angel to deal with her now silenced twin.

"I know ya like Sketch okay, so you kin tawk alright." She said in an aggravated tone. Sunshine's head shot up and to Angel's surprise her twin's eyes were wide. "Ya, ya do?" She said finally. Angel gave an exasperated laugh. "Yes of course! Da way ya fawn ova him all da time! It was obvious!" Angel laughed. Sunshine blushed and smacked her sister playfully. "I do not FAWN Angel! An' ya know it!" She protested. "Oh yeah? I tink ya fawn!" Angel said with a smile, rejoicing in her twin's company. But suddenly Sunshine's laugh was cut short as a figure came running up to them. Angel rolled her eyes. "Well speak of da devil." She muttered as Sketch Conlon ran up to them.

"Listen goils, you gotta git outta dis here area!" He said and to Angel's surprise, his tone was agitated and his gaze worried. He grabbed the two girls' arms and began to lead them into an alleyway, not noticing Sunshine's obvious awkward glance. As soon as they were in the alley, Angel jerked her arm out of his grasp. "Okay Conlon, what's goin' on?" She asked. Sketch leaned up against the wall and threw his hands in the air. "I don't even know. It's crazy. Jade said ta me dere's a fire an' she took off afta da guys dat done it. I was jest savin' you an' yer sista's necks Higgins." He said. "I kin save our necks meself, tank ya kindly. So who done it?" Angel asked. "Don't know. Some buncha kids I tink. Jade didn't tell me. Jest tol' me she was goin' afta da guys dat did it. Dey boined one of dem empty warehouses where Osca Delancy's gang usta meet. Dunno why, but it probably gots some significance." Sketch said, shrugging.

Angel nodded contemplatively. "Do you think they'll do more of this? Whoeva did dis?" Angel looked at her twin, surprised to hear her small voice speaking to Sketch. She was surprised to see Sketch's tough face visibly soften as he looked at Sunshine. "I dunno Sunny. I hope not. An' if dey do, I'll go afta 'em. You kin count on me Sunny." He said gently. For some strange reason as Angel looked back and forth from her sister's blushing face to the boy's gentle one, a fierce burning fired up in her chest and she spoke quickly. "Yeah well I kin help too. Me an' my bruddas." She cut in. Sketch's face again became a mask of toughness. "Yeah I was countin' on dat." He said quickly, looking away from Sunshine. Again, the fire burned in Angel's chest even though she had no idea why.

Just then a figure ducked into the alley and in the dim light Angel could make out the blonde tresses of Jade Conlon. Jade waved in greeting and turned to her brother. "Look, we gotta find Papa an' tell him what's goin' on. It's weird." She said. Sketch nodded and motioned to the girls. They followed the twins out of the alley and into the heart of Brooklyn. They finally made it and made their way to the docks where the sounds of men laughing and joking were heard. They made their way through a small crowd of the next generation of Brooklyn newsboys to the end of the wharf. Grown men stood there with hammers in their hands, their bare chests dripping with perspiration as they loaded the crates on the wharf. The four made their way to the center of the group where the main laughing and joking was occuring.

There in the center was a man of average height, a proud face, laughing eyes and mouth, and blonde hair bleached by the sun. His laughing gray-blue eyes moved away from his collegues and focused on them as they approached. He smiled and leaned on a few crates, dismissing his crew with a wave of his hand. "Heya. Whaddya doin' here? Ain't ya supposed ta be sellin'?" He asked with a smile. Sketch grinned. "Papa you know betta dan anyone dat da mawnin' papes is done now." He said. Spot Conlon grinned and leaned back on the crates. "Yer right. Jest testin' ya. Heya Sunny, Angel. How's yer Papa holdin' out in da Office?" He asked. "Jest great Spot. Da boys is still carryin' da banna an' still buyin' papes." Angel spoke up quickly, knowing her twin would rather not do the honors.

Spot's eyes softened. "How's yer Mama doin'?" The sparkle in Angel's eyes dampened somewhat and she hesitated. "Okay. She's betta dan she was a few weeks ago." Spot nodded, not speaking, knowing the pain that both Racetrack and Bright Eyes were feeling. He too had lost a child. Three in fact. After Sketch and Jade had been born, he and his wife Blue had tried to have another child. She became pregnant not long after but lost the baby in her tenth week of pregnancy. In another year Blue became pregnant again but lost the baby in her third week. Two years later, Blue and Spot were thrilled to find out that she was pregnant once more. This time three weeks past, then ten, and as she quickly approached her due date, Blue and Spot both became excited for the coming birth. But when the baby was delivered, a little boy with a full head of blonde hair, was stillborn. Spot had walked out of the room after comforting Blue, his face a mask of seriousness. But when he walked out to the old familiar wharf, he sat down on the edge of the dock, his head in his hands, trying to keep the tears back. He knew the awful feeling Bright Eyes must have felt as she saw the woman attending her lift up her own little boy, his head of black hair unmoving, his perfect mouth and lips silent and blue. He knew her pain.

Spot shook his head as if trying to shake off the pain that had followed him all those years and smiled faintly. "Well tell her dat Spot is still thinkin' 'bout her. An' I'll come an' visit her eventually." He said firmly. Angel nodded. "Sure Spot." Jade stepped forward. "Papa, did ya hear 'bout da fire downtown?" She asked. Spot nodded. "Yeah I heaid of it. One of da udda guys' kids came down an' told us. Why? Was you down dere or sometin'?" Spot asked, his eyes narrowing. Jade shuffled her feet before looking up. "Maybe." She said, sounding more like she was asking her father than telling him. Spot slapped his hand on his forehead. "Maybe? Geez Jade! How many times do I hafta tell ya not ta folla crooks 'round here! Huh? Dey could hoit ya." He said, exasperated. "Yeah but Papa, Mama tol' us dat you folla'ed too many crooks fer yer own good. Even chased down some guy who beat her up in Queens. Some guy named Cape." Sketch pointed out. Spot blushed momentarily. "Dat was different." He muttered.

"Papa, dis is different. I didn't git a good look at 'em, but dey looked like kids dat done it." Jade said quickly. The whole company looked at her in shock. "Kids? Why would kids be boinin' down buildin's?" Angel asked in bewilderment. Jade shrugged. "Dunno. It's all very strange dough." She replied. "Well you keep away from 'em." Spot started. Jade groaned. "Unless dey come ta you. Den ya got me permission ta chase 'em down. But don't try ta stop 'em, jest folla 'em 'an see where dey're hidin' out an' who dey are. No more'n dat. An' don't tell yer Mama I gave ya permission." Spot said, turning back to his work after winking at his children.

"Papa! Papa! We need help! Papa!" Spot whirled around quickly to face the small tinny yells coming down the wharf. Three children were running head on down the dock, all three of them with mops of bleach blonde hair. The one who looked older than the other two was holding the hand of the younger, and the younger was holding the hand of the youngest. They were running so fast that one would have thought that they would run straight off the dock if Spot hadn't stopped them with his strong hands. "What's goin' on? Whaddya doin' down here?" Spot asked, kneeling down on the dock. "Hey Conlon! We're neva gonna git done if yer kids keep showin' up!" A man yelled. "Ah shudup!" The younger boy yelled in the man's direction, causing the wharf to break out in laughter. Spot waved his hand and looked back at the children.

The oldest one was about nine, with very fair hair, a lighter blonde than the rest, gray-green eyes and a soft feminine face. His father looked at him gently as he waited for the reason for the interruption. "What's goin' on Marbles? Yer Mama need sometin'?" He asked gently. The younger one, age eight, spoke up quickly. "Yeah sometin' like dat! Trouble done ran off again." He said. This boy had brown-blonde hair and pure gray eyes, the color of the sea after a storm. His face was proud and his arms were crossed protectively across his chest. The younger boy merely looked at his two brothers with his big green eyes, brushed a strand of blonde hair out of his tanned face and fingered his small slingshot. Spot looked at the younger boy. "Whaddya mean Trouble ran off? I thought you was supposed ta be watchin' him teday." Spot said. Marbles threw his hands in the air. "He WAS! But he was playin' wit' his slingshot an' didn't even notice till he was done gone!" Marbles said frantically. "Now cool off Marbles. Flames, why didn't ya do yer job? I tol' ya specifically 'fore I left fer woik teday ta watch Trouble." Spot said gently, but firmly.

Flames rolled his gray eyes and sighed. "I tried Papa. But ya know how Trouble is." He said. "Yeah, we do. But we also know dat ya don't watch him as careful as you should." The youngest boy said simply. Flames looked down at him angrily, as if he wanted to tear the slingshot out of his brother's hand and use it on it's owner. Spot looked down at the littlest boy. "Dat's enough Mouse. Keep it down." Spot said firmly to the six year old. "You boys gotta find him. Where's Ace?" Spot asked, implying his five year old son. "He's at home wit' Mama an' Gabriel. She wanted us ta git ya." Mouse said calmly. "Well you boys gotta find him. Seich 'round da docks an' stuff. An' da boundary to Manhattan. Dats where he was yestaday. Jade an' Sketch'll help ya." Spot said, standing up. Jade sighed. "I wish dat Trouble would stop wandrin' off." She said. "Don't we all, but he's only three an' don't know betta." Spot replied. "Oh he knows betta. He just pretends like he don't." Sketch said, exasperated as he took Mouse's hand and began walking off. Angel and Sunshine followed them, willing to take a little adventure in looking for the second youngest Conlon child, knowing full well that their friends would need all the help they could get in finding him.

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