After a few minutes, I sat up in his arms. "You know what this means, right?"

"What's that?" he shot me a questioning glance.

"You're going to have to tell me your real name."

Specs' face reddened. For months I had been trying to convince him to confide his name in me. I had finally trapped him.

"Come on, Bel, do I have to?"

"If you don't, you don't get this back." I reached over to the nearby table and picked up the book that Steamer brought.

Specs reached for it. "How did you get that?"

"Oh, no." I pulled it out of his reach and shot him a glare. "You're not getting out of it that easily."

He looked down at his lap and murmured something incoherent.

"What was that?" I lifted his chin with a smirk on my face.

"Ben Cooper," he said, not much louder than before, but this time I could understand him. "Can I have my book back now?"

I handed the book to him and leaned back on his chest. "Was that so hard?"

He shrugged off my teasing. "Where did you get this?"

"Steamer," I replied, smiling slightly. "He wanted to read it today."

"Great Expectations? Ambitious kid."

"He's a great kid," I commented. Specs nodded as I turned to face him again. "So, I'm been thinking-"

"Uh oh," he teased. "That's never a good sign."

I hit him playfully. "Come on, I am trying to be serious here."

"Sorry." He wiped the smile off of his face. "Continue."

"I've been thinking about taking Steamer in."

He stared at me in confusion. "What? Why?"

"He has too much potential to waste his life." I stopped short, shocked at the words that were coming out of my mouth.

"To waste his life doin what, Belinda? Being a Newsie?"

I frowned at his reaction. "That's not what I meant."

"So what did you mean, Bel? Cause that's sure what it sounds like," he shot back.

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. "He is trying to read Dickens at five, Specs. Are you trying to tell me that he'd be better off spending his life selling newspapers?"

"And why not?" he countered. "What's so horrible about being a newsie?" He pulled away from me, creating a few feet of distance between us.

A queasy feeling settled in my stomach as he backed away, but I said nothing, unsure of how to react.

"I was raised a newsie and I turned out just fine. Bein a newsie didn't ruin Gabe. What makes you think that you need to save this boy?" Anger began to cloud over Specs' eyes. He stood and started for the door.

I quickly followed him. "I just want to help."

"Don't you get it, Bel? We're just fine on our own. We don't need to be saved!" Before I could respond, he grabbed his jacket and took off down the street, slamming the door behind him. Sadly I moved back to the parlor, picking up the book that Specs had forgotten in his hurry.

"All I wanted to do was help," I murmured as my eyes began to water. I removed the engagement ring from my finger, returning it to the box on the table.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and Mrs. Paige soon appeared in the doorway. "What was all that ruckus?"

"Specs," I answered quietly. Overwhelmed, I started for the stairs. I heard Mrs. Paige open the ring box, but just continued up the stairs, unwilling to discuss things further.

It was nearly 2am and I still lay awake in bed. Specs' comments swam around in my head unceasingly. When the clock chimed two, I threw off the covers in frustration. Quietly, I sneaked down the stairs to find the ring box still sitting on the table. I carried it up to my room and set the box on the nightstand. Removing the ring, I slid it slowly onto my finger again. I moved to the window staring out at the snow that had begun to fall in huge flakes.

The next morning, I woke with a start, shocked to find myself still seated at the window. When I moved my head, pain shot through my neck.

"That was not a good idea." I moaned lightly as I pulled on my robe.

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Paige called when I emerged from the stairwell. She smiled when she saw me rubbing my neck. "What on earth happened to you?"

I cringed and took the tea cup that she offered me. "I fell asleep by the window."

"Usually not the best of ideas."

I sighed. "Believe me, I know."

As I moved a stray hair behind my ear, her eyebrows raised. She motioned to the ring. "Do you want to talk about last night?"

I frowned. "Not particularly."

"Alright," she said, reaching for her cloak. "I am off to do some shopping."

"Mrs. Paige, no," I started quickly as she walked out the door. I sighed before I finished my sentence. "I'd rather not be alone."

With a groan, I cleared the table and headed up the stairs to ready myself for the day. By the time that I dressed and cleaned the parlor, readying it for that afternoon's classes, I was optimistic that I had successfully wasted away much of the day. I looked up at the clock and my heart sank when I saw that it was only eleven. The boys did not arrive until 4 o'clock, which left me nearly five hours to mull over my argument with Specs.

I cringed as I remembered the hurt in his voice as he spoke to me the night before. Running a hand through my hair, I searched desperately for something to distract me. Staring around at the empty house, I finally gave up. Grabbing my cloak, I slipped out the door onto the snow-covered street.

After a few minutes of walking through the slush, I heard someone call my name. A few yards in front of me on the sidewalk, Comet stood on the corner, peddling his papers.

"Good morning, Comet," I said as I walked up to him, forcing a smile onto my face.

He nodded and tipped his hat. "What are you doin out in da cold?"

"I'm looking for Dutchy. Have you seen him?"

"I think that he and Skitts are sellin somewhere in da park," Comet replied, quickly stopping a man to sell him a paper.

Catching Comet's attention, I nodded in thanks and started off toward Central Park.