Kiki's hands shook slightly as she typed in the password from the piece of paper Tiffany gave to her. The sunlight was beginning to fade outside her bedroom window.

Jade was behind her, crouched over her shoulder as they stared at the sleek desktop monitor that dominated Kiki's desk. When Jade got home from her showcase practice and came up the stairs to Kiki's room, she took one look at her face and knew something was wrong. They both had nervous knots in their stomachs.

"So…she just handed this to you?"

Kiki's face was drawn. "Her hand was sweaty like it was a damn drug deal…she had that look in her eyes."

"Shit," Jade muttered as the files loaded.

"Yep," Kiki agreed flatly.

The files popped up and Kiki quickly grabbed the pair of reading glasses next to her keyboard, her brow knitting over them as her eyes scanned…There were three files labeled "music", "pictures", and "instructions"... Kiki clicked the instructions.

"What's she playing at…" Jade muttered.

The file loaded.

New plan. New song for routine, pictures to be played during the performance. Requests for a man's suit and fake blood. Agents will be present and on standby. I will contact you with further instructions. - Agent M

"Fake blood?" Jade spat. "Oh God Tiff -"

Kiki quickly opened the music file, a mash-up of two songs…then she opened the pictures.

Both of their breaths caught. These were photos of –

Jade's voice sounded choked. "What the–"

"Fuck," Kiki bit out. "She can't be serious –"

"How did - how could she -" Jade grunted in frustration how did she even get access to a freakin' computer to do this?!"

"Martin," Kiki murmured, her eyes scanning, weighing. "...she must've gotten Jazzi's burner phone while she was sleeping, and contacted him…He must've hidden it for her somewhere on campus. He's the only one who has access to these…"

Her skin crawled as she looked at the faces on the screen, the photos flipping through like a sick slideshow.

Jade was breathing so hard it tickled Kiki's neck. "So Jazzi has no idea…" Jade exhaled sharply, "God this is –"

"A twisted hail mary," Kiki's stomach sank more and more as she opened the files together, the song playing with the photos. "They're playing with fire now."

Jade's voice rose, "They're playing with a damn flamethrower. Calling them out at the showcase - that's her plan?" Jade sank into the pink beanbag chair next to Kiki's desk, her worried gaze far away. "Is she crazy?"

"Desperate," Kiki bit a nail. "She does this number at the showcase, they pounce on her afterward." Kiki saw the frightened look in Jade's eyes. "You know they will. She knows they will. That's why she's doing this. That's why she's keeping Jazzi out of it, to bank on her deniability to the Wilks brothers. Martin must've already tried to talk her out of it because this is…suicide. But he's gotta know -"

"This guarantees the collar. For all of them," Jade gritted her teeth. "Fuck, what do we do?"

"Pray he gets Jack and the guys on board. As well as every undercover son-of-a-bitch he has under him… We're gonna need it."


"Ya sure this is gonna work?"

"Nope."

"Fuck."

"I know one thing though – we can still scale the shit out of a building."

"Bite my ass an' scale faster, Batman."

Spot laughed as he reached over the roof ledge and pulled Race up from the fire escape. He waved to the side street below where Jack, David, and Mush waited. Tyler and Honey would be here any minute; it was almost midnight.

It was darker in this part of the city, and bitterly cold, the docks just down the street. Snow still piled around the stoops and sidewalks, especially in this abandoned neighborhood. Not even the snowplows came down here - the forgotten industrial wasteland not yet given a full face-lift by the realtor tycoons. "No Trespassing" signs were plastered to every door but most windows were busted through and the buildings decrepit.

Earlier that day, David told the guys where he planned for them to meet Honey for the reading, and they had looked at him as if he'd spoken Chinese. Jack had looked particularly pale.

But they decided to trust David. Even when they pulled up to the old brothel and saw that it was half falling apart and overrun with rats. The front doors and windows were boarded up. They decided to try the roof.

Racetrack went to the door, pulling a multi-tool from his coat pocket as he took the door chain and lock in his other hand.

Spot breathed into his cupped hands, looking out to the city across the bay, sparkling with lights. "Place gives me the creeps…She's gonna think we're batshit, isn't she?"

"Totally," Race said as the lock broke free and fell off the chain. "If she doesn't already."

They quietly descended the stairs inside, waiting for the blaring sound of an alarm. But it never came, not even when they opened the door to the third floor.

"Well this is creepy as shit," Racetrack muttered as they looked down the stairs…

The building was completely barren and empty. What furniture had been here was looted a long time ago. The old brothel was just the bones of a building now; the wind cut through the cracks in the boards over the windows, screaming through the dusty rafters.

There were no familiar smells, no moments of recognition. It was a forgotten place.

Feeling spooked, they quickly clamored down the flights of stairs to the dusty front room and pried it open to usher in their friends.

Jack looked up and down the street before closing the door behind them. Mush removed a board from one of the windows to keep watch for Tyler's car. They'd instructed him to park in the alleyway behind David's car.

David turned on his phone's flashlight and kept it low to avoid shining it on the windows. The place was drafty, cold, and quiet.

Jack looked around, shoving his hands in his pockets. He never expected to be in this place again, and half wished David had picked a different spot…but Medda's theatre was a ritzy restaurant with apartments above it now, and Talia's old place…Jack didn't want to go there either.

Headlight beams filled the front room and Mush went outside. David, Spot, and Racetrack watched Jack as Mush's muffled voice spoke to Tyler and Honey on the street.

Jack's eyes wandered over to the old bar, covered in a big white cloth. Racetrack jumped over it, landing stealthily on his feet behind it. He bent and disappeared to rummage through the empty dusty bottles and brick-a-brack. Spot lit a cig, the flare of his lighter illuminating his face, his expression hard as stone.

Jack expected to feel sick, clammy, dreadful. But the memories in his head were like watching a film…he felt a little detached from it. He smirked despite himself.

"Remember when she threatened to expose this dump of syphilis?"

"I almost peed my pants," Racetrack said from behind the bar over Spot's bark of a laugh. "Especially when she back-handed that chick."

David smiled a little as he watched Jack, arms crossed and leaning against one of the broken round saloon tables. "She's still just as feisty."

Spot covered his nose as Racetrack whipped the cloth off the bar, revealing the dull cracked mahogany wood beneath.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair, gazing up the stairs to the second and third floors. Some of the doors stood open, half on their hinges, others were closed. He felt cold at the thought of going up there.

"...standin' in this place makes meetin' a federal agent in Times Square sound like a stroll in the park."

Racetrack spat. Spot exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes glimmering in the dim. "I don't like it."

"This is a place from your past life?" Tyler's voice broke across them as he, Honey, and Mush came through the door, his voice louder than he expected as it bounced around the space. Tyler's wide eyes went from Jack to the bar, to the staircase and gaping ceiling.

Jack gave him a somber smirk. "Unfortunately."

Honey looked around, her brows gently knitted over her bright eyes as her hand clutched the strap of the heavy satchel at her side. "Were these…apartments?"

"Close," Spot said with a dark chuckle. He cleared his throat as Honey gave him a surprised look.

"It was a brothel," Jack muttered.

Honey closed her eyes, her face paling…but not from the cold. "...so that's why I hear laughing…and fighting."

"...gee, why don't I feel comforted by that?" Racetrack tried to say lightly, but his voice cracked.

Mush regarded her carefully. "You…hear things?"

Honey looked at him sideways, swallowed, and looked at Jack.

"It's…not something that happens often. My grandmother…sometimes she could see people."

They each stared at her. Tyler clutched the scarf around his neck, his eyes wide.

Jack spoke softly, "Thanks for comin'."

"You…want me to do it here?" she asked quietly.

"No," David tore his gaze away from Jack. "This way."

As they slowly made their way up the stairs, Honey grasped Mush's arm and Tyler and Racetrack stayed close to Spot's back, bringing up the rear.

Race grinned wickedly. "This would be tha perfect time ta -"

"Don't even think about it," Spot hissed through his teeth.

They started down the third-floor hall, toward a closed door at the end. Honey noticed the way Jack's steps slowed, hesitating before leaning into the stuck door with his shoulder.

She paid little attention to the empty dusty room as they entered behind Jack. She watched the way his eyes widened slightly, his shoulders tensed. He knew this place.

She noticed the guys were watching him too. Their faces were pale as they took in the room.

But there was nothing except a dilapidated bed frame in the corner and an old rug on the floor. The room was bright from a street lamp outside, the snow glowing in the warm light.

Mush went to the window across the room and shivered.

"Remember when -?"

"Kid Blink carried Jack's ass up those stairs?" Racetrack leaned over to look down.

Tyler looked at Honey, and she looked at David. She didn't have to ask - she knew they were serious.

"So, this was…her room," David said carefully. He noticed Jack's shoulders tense under his coat as he stared numbly at the windows.

"Jack's 'dead girlfriend's' room?" Honey asked tightly.

Everyone's eyes landed on her face and she swallowed, meeting Jack's dark eyes.

"...Tiffany's room."

They all froze. But none of them flinched.

"Holy shit," Tyler whispered behind Honey.

Honey licked her lips. Tiffany. They were talking about Tiffany. They had to be. It all made sense. And she believed it.

She looked at Mush, who looked at her sadly.

"You were here," she whispered. Tears sprang to her eyes. "All of you…and you knew her."

"She figured it out," Mush whispered to Jack. He looked back to Honey. "Jus' sorry I didn't tell ya sooner."

"He couldn't," Jack amended softly.

The heartbreak in his eyes…on each of their faces.

Honey sucked in a ragged breath.

There was only one way to confirm this madness.

They watched her as she put her bag on the ground and took out its contents: a notebook and pen, a silk scarf that she smoothed out in front of her on the floor, a small bag, and two candles.

She handed her bag to Tyler and he stood behind her, looking like something would jump at him.

She sat crisscrossed and placed the candles on either side of the silk scarf. She clicked her zippo lighter and lit them. "Jack…what was your birthday?"

She watched them glance at each other… Jack spoke without looking away from the old bed.

"April 9, 1882."

Honey swallowed and kept her face emotionless as she wrote on the notepad. She took out her phone, opened an app, and began typing… "Time of birth?"

"Midnight."

"Date of the event…that took place in this room?"

The guys froze, looking at each other.

"It was…late in the summer…1900?" Mush asked.

Honey glanced up at him, her heart beating faster as he looked to his friends for confirmation. The way they spoke made it sound like it was yesterday.

"After the strike," Spot said.

"It was rainin' that night," Racetrack added, distracted.

Newsies. Jazzi's voice replayed in Honey's memory but she shook it off. She had to focus…

"It mighta been…August," Mush mused, his eyebrows drawn as he thought.

She looked from her phone to her notepad as she wrote down the information they gave her, and drew a wheel on the paper, drawing lines across it and labeling them with symbols… she took the small bag and dumped a deck of cards out of it and into her hand. Then, she closed her eyes and sat perfectly still.

They waited. It felt like an eternity before she inhaled quickly. The hairs on the backs of their necks stood on end and she exhaled slowly…

The room was brighter…there was furniture, a couple of glass lamps on tables, and rugs and pillows scattered on the floor…a small kitchen was to her left, a bed to her right, the frame unbent and the sheets messy… She observed the memory softly, slowly, from her spot on the floor…

"I see…a green chaise lounge in front of me," her voice was slow and thick as if she were in a trance. "There's…a man. He's speaking to someone…"

She bristled.

"Come on, sweetheart…"

The air smelled of sweat and whiskey…the man was gross, sneering at someone…

"There's a woman."

Jack stiffened.

"...I cannot see her face -"

"Talia!"

The woman froze… she has long dark hair…her head turns slightly to the window. Someone shouted her name from outside…

"Her name is Talia…"

Mush's chest expanded. He couldn't believe it…she could see her.

The guys didn't dare look away from her as their blood ran cold. They stood like statues around her.

"She's Russian," Honey murmured, her brows knitting over her closed eyes. "She's…telling the man to leave…he's angry…she kicks him out. I – I still – can't see her face. She's crossing to the window…"

Jack turned to that window, trying to slow his heart rate. He closed his eyes and let Honey's voice paint the picture in his head, a picture he never forgot.

Honey gasped –

Mush, wearing a long sleeve button-down shirt, climbs through the window. He looks just the same…He smiles, his wet shirt clinging to his broad chest and arms.

"How's it goin', Talia?"

"This better be good, Mush. I just told my money to beat it."

"Mush," she breathed. "She's your friend...and a prostitute."

The guys felt nervous as cats as they hung on her every word. Her face was in disbelief. Tyler clutched her satchel bag to him, hiding behind it but unable to look away.

Jack, his shirt wet and covered in blood, came through the window…

"Jack - you're hurt." Her brows pulled together - "A blonde boy with an eye patch…Cage."

David covered his mouth. He felt as if he were in shock. Spot's jaw tightened. Jack didn't turn from the window.

"You call him 'Kid Blink' - Racetrack, David…the guys - you're - you're all here - you're worried…about Jack. She calls you… 'cowboy'."

Jack opened his eyes. But she fell silent.

They could see her eyes moving rapidly behind her eyelids, watching and listening. Racetrack paced quietly behind Jack and Spot watched David - his face pale and somber.

"So, what happened?" Talia asked. Honey tried to lean forward to see her face…

"We were ambushed," Cage…Kid Blink said.

Racetrack, David, and Mush went to the bathroom to wash the blood off their faces and lips... Kid Blink, rubbing his forehead, watched Jack. Remorse filled his good eye.

"He was stabbed with a broken bottle," Kid Blink said angrily. "I couldn't get to him."

Talia looked back to the boys and then to Jack's bloody body on the bed, her eyes wide.

"Glass?" she asked. She went to the bed. Honey could see the line of her jaw, the curve of her chin…familiar.

"Did it break inside you?" she asked in a rush…the hardness in her shoulders melted away…she worried for him. She cared for him…

"S'matta?" Jack asked heatedly… He winced as Talia climbed onto the bed, sitting next to him.

She began unbuttoning his blood-stained shirt but Jack's hand restrained her.

"Don' do that," he said stiffly, his eyes hard on Talia's face.

"You want to bleed to death?" she asked impatiently. There was fear in her voice…

Honey watched…Talia removed glass shards from Jack's side, her back to her. The guys stayed the night, and wouldn't leave him…they all had that closeness…they were…' street rats'. But they rose above it, with each other…

She saw the way they watched each other…Jack and Talia. They were...keenly aware of each other, their bodies moving and responding to each other. He was wary of her but…

"She saved your life," Honey said at last. Her face and voice softened… "You love her."

Jack ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to strip it away.

"...I still can't see her face," she breathed. It was the only true confirmation she needed -

The next morning, there was a knock at Talia's door…Honey turned her head as the woman opened it, seeing into the hall, the man standing there –

Honey gasped loudly, her eyes flying open as they all jumped.

She rose quickly from her place on the floor and Mush went to her, holding her steady by the arms. Her eyes were wild, terrified. Her voice broke as words tumbled from her –

"He - he was there - he was there -"

"Garrison Rockefeller," David said gently, regretfully. "Now known...as Phillip Wilks."

Honey's eyes went to David, and then to Jack. His eyes were deadly. A hatred that ran deep.

She fought to catch her breath but her chest was tight, her fingers clamped to Mush like a lifeline. She didn't take her eyes off Jack's. What kind of nightmare was this…

"Tell me everything," she breathed.


Across the river and high above the city, Tiffany looked out the windows of the club, the gown that clung to her body glittering back in the reflection of the glass. Patrons and girls were laughing behind her, the music blasting. She didn't care to try anymore. Her energy was spent. She was thankful they didn't make her dance tonight…

The only thing she had to look forward to was lying down to sleep, the only time she had to herself, the only time when she could be with him…in her dreams.

His touch, the feel of him with her, inside her… his eyes, the smell of his hair, his warm skin against hers…his laugh, the sound of his voice – she fought to remember it all, to hold the memory of him.

She closed her eyes. She couldn't afford to lose it, not here. She locked him away in her mind…her heart.

She wondered what Kiki was thinking, if she had opened the flash drive, and if Agent Martin had done what he said he would do…she had made sure to delete the texts between them from Jazzi's secret phone, and had put it back in the closet where she kept it hidden.

She opened her eyes and stopped her thoughts as she saw a movement in the reflection of the window. A man approached her from behind.

"Tiffany, isn't it?"

She turned and saw a man she'd only seen in photos.

She swallowed and kept calm. "Mr. Wilks."

He was attractive…and he knew it. But the cool smile he gave her made her skin crawl.

"Please…call me Phillip."