Ever since the argument a few days before, Spot had gone out of his way to spend time with Bitter. He walked with her in the evenings, ate with her, and sat around talking for hours. At night, they would quietly whisper together in Spot's bed where Bitter had taken up residence. Although, they didn't do anything except cuddle Bitter felt safer and happier with him.

Through all the conversations they had, Spot noticed a pattern in the subject. It was always cleverly steered from the topic of the past. Bitter would distract him with statements like, 'What's done is done' and 'Let's not dwell in the past'. While they were good points, he wanted to know more about her, and why she didn't want to tell people about it.

Finally, he decided. "Bitter, kin you'se cum here fer a sec? I'se needs ta talk ta ya," he said, leading her into the 'conference room'.

"Shoah, Spot, what do ya need?" Bitter asked.

Spot sat her down in a chair and said, "Well, I'se knows you'se ain't too keen on talkin' 'bout it, but I'se wants ta know 'bout yer past."

Bitter jumped up, but was pushed back down by Spot. "Don't you'se remembah what happened da last time you'se did dat? Jest sit down an' tell me 'bout it."

"It isn't dat easy, Spot. It's not like I don't trust ya, I jest don't think der's anythin' ta tell, an' I wish ya would stop badgerin' me 'bout it," Bitter said.

"Like I'se said befoah, I'se ain't stupid. I'se knows yer hidin' somethin' an' I'se wish ya would tell me 'bout it. You'se don't have nothin' ta fear," Spot coaxed.

"Look, der's nothin' ta tell, but if ya keep pushin' dis, I don't know how we're goin' ta come out in da end," Bitter threatened, causing Spot to flinch inside.

What's she hidin'? She doesn't know how wese'll cum out 'n da end? I'se can't believe her, she'd leave me jest 'cause I'se was tryin' ta help. Well, if dats what she's got ta do, den dats what shes got ta do. Dis is what I'se has ta do. Spot realized.

"If dats hows you'se feels 'bout it, ders nothin' I kin do. Now, tell me 'bout you from befoah you fell into our lives." Spot commanded.

After glaring for solid minutes, Bitter began, "Fine, whatevah. I don't know what ya want me ta say. I was left on a church door step as a child, took in by a great old couple den I went too far from home one day when I was 'bout seven an' couldn't find my way home so I lived on da streets. It wasn't a big deal I got tageddah wid da Shadows, yeah da gang, an' learned ta pickpocket. Me best friend was killed when I was 'bout twelve so I quit an' had ta run away, since gangs don't look too favorably on quitters. Aftah dat I wandered 'round Manhattan fer 'bout five years befoah Blink found me. "

Bitter got up to leave, but Spot pulled her back down. He asked, "Why was dat so hard ta tell me?"

"Why da hell are ya so interested. I wasn't plannin' on stayin' wid da newsies an' so I figured it wasn't too smart ta get attatched ta people. An' even so, bein' in a gang ain't somethin' ya really want ta bring up, specially when people knew ya from it," Bitter told him, still glaring.

"What do ya mean people knew ya from it?" Spot questioned.

"Jack. Jack knew me when I was little. When he was still Francis Sullivan and I was still Melody Steffanson. He hung 'round da church a little an' we became friends. When I joined da gang he was pretty upset at me an' den we got in a fight 'bout it an' I ain't nevah seen him since. I don't know how he feels 'bout me, nor do I care to. Look, Spot don't tell anyone dis all right? Swear?"

Spot nodded. "A course I wont tell no one. Look, ya shoulda told me before, doh. Ya can trust me. We all got thinks in our past dat we ain't proud of but dat don't me ya got ta ferget dem completley, specially when yer still hurtin' ovah dem."

"Spot I don't need a lecture. Now, if ya don't mind, I'se gunna go pack up me things and get an early start fer Manhattan," Bitter said coldly, standing up.

She could see a flash of pain go through Spot's face before it was covered. He said, "It's only a few days 'til da council. You'se could wait 'round here 'til den. It'd be safah if you'se came back wid us."

Bitter said, averting her gaze from his eyes, "But I really want ta go now."

"Well, I'se can' let ya. None of me boys kin take ya back right now, and yer my responsibility. Jacky-boy would kill me if I'se let ya go widout a escort," Spot said.

Bitter grumbled, "It's nice to know someone cares about me."

"Bittah, stop dat. Dat ain't fair. I'se didn't do anythin'. If you'se gonna act like dis, maybe it's bettah if we don't talk fer awhile," Spot said.

"Fine wid me, I nevah enjoyed it before," Bitter retorted, but inside she was crumbling. She hated herself, she hated him, and she hated Brooklyn. It was time to leave.

After a few hours, when she was sure everyone in the room, especially Spot, was asleep, Bitter got down from her bed carefully. A day longer, was a day too long. She grabbed her stuff, which she had gathered earlier and crept out of the Lodging House.
Caps, one of the newsies that had met Harmony in Manhattan, had been ordered to secretly escort Bitter back. Spot knew that she was going to leave whether he let her or not, and he thought it best to just let her. So Caps was to be her shadow on her way back to Manhattan and then stay there for a day. None of this was told to Jack, so he would probably be surprised to find Harmony in the morning.