"Torii?" A knock on flimsy wood. "Torii?" A little more urgent this time. Torii quickly shoved the paper into the drawer in the nightstand beside her bed. It was one of the only luxuries in the room. An oil lamp sat on top. A washstand, cracked pitcher and chipped bowl sat near the door. Three pegs were awkwardly pounded into the wall for her clothes. The small single bed nearly filled the room, leaving two feet to the wall with the window, three to the cracked wall opposite the bed, and two to the door.

"C'mon in."

The door squeaked open hesitantly. A head peeked around it. "Torii. I have something for you."

Torii lifted a tired smile to Nikki. The younger girl pushed the door open so it touched the bed, then sidestepped into the sparsely furnished room, her hands behind her back. Torii flopped back on the bed. "I'm not up for games tonight, Niks."

A concerned look crossed her face. "Is your face alright?" A frown appeared on her elegantly pale features. "Mother was especially cross. I apologize for her."

Torii sighed in exasperation. "You didn't come up here to apologize for Hen. What's so important?"

Nikki smiled, her teeth glinting in the mixture of lamp and moonlight. "You. This was in my bouquet of roses today." She held out a single rose to Torii.

Torii sat up. "Who were they from?"

Nikki sank to the bed. "Oh, just James Pulitzer." She paused, then giggled. "He wants to marry me. What? He's ten years older!" She sighed. "It is a good match. Mother says so. Penelope says that we look dashing together. And I like him. He is not a bad man." As she spoke, she fingered the single rose Torii had yet to take. A white card hung from it. Nikki shook her head. "Well, maybe I will marry him. Here," and she pressed the rose into Torii's hands, "I know you are tired. I shall see you tomorrow."

Nikki sailed out the door, her white nightgown looking ghostlike against the black shadows of the hallway. The door shut behind her. Torii gazed at the rose in her hands.

Who is this from? Well, that's easily answered. She opened the attached card. To Red it said on the front. Inside, it read Meet me at HG, T at 9 AM.

She looked at the back. Nothing but a small thumb moon in the lower left-hand corner.

- - - - - - - -

Tuesday, at five to nine, Torii stood inconspicuously near the Horace Greely statue in Newsies Square. She'd almost ran to all her errands, getting done early, and had about half an hour before she was expected back at Madams. The streets were trickling with people, a slight drizzle forming. She finally sat on a bench, excitedly bouncing her feet. She felt giddy as a schoolgirl.

A pair of hands slipped over her eyes. A voice entered her ear. "Guess who."

She stiffened in fear.

- - - - - - - -

So yeah, Thank you NewsieGoil, Garen, madmbutterfly, and elleestjean. You are wonderful for my ego! It all makes me toastier than an Ego pop-up cinnamon waffle. And all poems in previous chapter were written by me. So don't use, ask first. Thanks. -rj