Author note: Well, thanks for the reviews. Here's a new chapter for you.

"What did you say?" I asked, my eyes wide in disbelief.

"I said his last name is Neeley," Sharp repeated.

"Neeley?" I said. "That can't be right…unless, it's just a coincident. He isn't here, he's dead."

Sharp blinked his eyes in confusion. "Why are you talking to yourself?" he asked.

"I'm insane," I said, massaging my temples.

"Yer Spot's goil, aren't you?" Sharp asked. "Yer Eve Cartah."

"I guess," I shrugged. "Whoever that is."

I gave him a mysterious smirk and walked back into the house, shutting the door without a second look.

I had a lot of things running through my thoughts, so many that my head began to hurt. Ned Neeley no longer existed on this earth, he was dead. I watched him die – I killed him! I mean, it could've just been someone with the same last name, but then again why would they send Sharp here?

I guess it all added up. I was in the papers for quite some time, and so was Ned. It had to be someone who disguised himself as Ned and sent Sharp here for some joke or something. It made since, didn't it? Some people just didn't like me.

"Who was it?" Daniel asked, walking out of the dining room.

"Newsie business for Spot," I said.

"But Spot isn't here."

"That's what confuses me," I said, crossing my arms.

I let out a sharp breath and stared up at the ceiling. I was in the study, sprawled out on the sofa, thinking to myself. There were at least over a thousand books gathering dust upon the shelves, and the room still felt empty.

Erica used to love to pick a random book off the shelf and read over it quickly, and then claiming it was a good book. She always sat in the leather chair diagonal from my feet, talking up a storm about something she heard.

She was always a bright kid, a smile found on her face every second of her life. She was very religious and the kindest person I'd ever met. She could always make me laugh no matter what the situation was.

I cursed myself out loud for letting my thoughts carelessly float away. I was putting myself through misery since I was to blame for her death. If only I'd of gotten the fake antidote, maybe things would be better.

I sat up on the couch and crossed my legs, staring blankly at the fireplace ahead of me. A large picture frame stood above it of a lovely house surrounded by a warm looking forest. My old house…

Before there was a picture of my father and that whore of his, but I burned it and put this one up. It always made me feel warm inside, and I could still feel the joy I once held at my former home.

I pushed my hair out of my face and sighed deeply. I rose from the couch and left the study.

"Danny, I'm going out for awhile!" I called, hoping that wherever he was he could hear me.

"Okay!" his voice called from the sitting room.

I turned towards the door and left, walking towards a medium sized cemetery.

"Hey Erica," I said to my friend's grave. "How's everything coming along?"

I took a seat on the bench beside her grave, something that Spot and Jack put there for visits.

"Everything is so…different since you left," I told her. "Just when I begin to think that things are becoming perfect, they shatter. I just wish you could come home…"

The grave stayed silent, listening to my words of regret.

"Spot and Jack are putting themselves into danger. They don't know what those New Jersey newsies want; what if they hurt them? The school is coming along pretty well, and Stephen seems to like it. Cadince has done a pretty good job with it so far."

A small breeze brushed by and I smiled ever so slightly. "Blade is doing alright, to answer your question. He misses you a lot, ya know. I feel bad for him because there's nothing I can do."

I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers, the sadness in my heart deepening.

"Stephen hasn't been the same lately either. He doesn't smile as much as he used to, and surprisingly he doesn't eat much. The boys always been thin but now he's just a stick. He's just dead, is what I'm trying to say. He still knows how to have a good time, though; he has those kids scared to death of the dungeons."

I stared at Erica's gravestone, and licked at the dryness of my lips.

"Cadince is still in denial. She refuses to believe that you're gone. She doesn't even want us to talk about it. She and Jack are pretty close, though, and she seems pretty happy with him. He's helped her a lot with the school and whatnot. He really is something; a good guy, and very dedicated to her."

I wiped at my eye with my thumb and continued to stare down at the ground.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," I said through tears. "It was my fault you had to die. I just can't continue acting as if everything is okay when my best friend is gone. I'm a mess of confusion, and my life is clouded up. We need you here; we need your laughs and your jokes, and your great sense of humor."

I looked to the side and couldn't bear to hold in anymore tears.

"I am so…so sorry, Erica."

I let out a sigh and made myself stop crying. It was hard enough to deal with the pain and regret, but it was difficult to express it through tears. I wasn't one to show my emotions with tears, and it was very rare when I did so.

I rose from the bench and began to pull at the weeds surrounding the grave. It had to be perfect for her.

"Hey Nomes," a voice said.

I looked up from the ground and smiled slightly at Cadince. "Hey," I greeted her as I rose from the ground.

Cadince bent down and placed some flowers by the gravestone. She had that "this isn't real" look in her eyes as she took a seat on the bench.

"How is she?" she managed to ask.

"Silent as a mouse," I answered, leaning against a tree that supported the grave some shade. "Any news on Spot and Jack?"

Cadince shook her head. "I haven't heard anything," she said.

"They should be alright," I assured her. "If I know them as well as I think I do then they should be fine."

"I hope so," Cadince sighed.

"How's Stephen?" I asked.

"He's pretty good," she said. "He almost finished all of his breakfast."

"That's better than nothing," I said.

"I suppose…"

I looked up at the sky and groaned. "A storm is rolling in, I had best head home," I said.

"Bye," Cadince replied, staring down at the grave.

I left her on the bench and started my walk back home. Brooklyn was becoming empty as people headed for shelter before the storm came. The streets were dark and cold, although it was still quite early.

The manor even looked dead as I approached it glumly, entering lazily.

"Anomie, Anomie!" Daniel shouted, running into the foyer. "He won't stop crying!"

"Who won't stop crying?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"The little boy, come on!"

Daniel grabbed my hand and led me up the steps to the second floor, and we stopped at the end of the stairs to the third floor.

"See?" Daniel said, pointing up at the top of the stairs.

"Danny there's nobody there," I said.

"Yes there is. Don't you see him? He's crying!"

"Who?"

"The little boy. He's sitting right there." Daniel looked up at the top of the stairwell and jumped into the air with a loud scream.

"Are you mad?" I asked, placing my hand upon his shoulder.

Daniel's face went white and his eyes were huge with terror. I looked up where his eyes were focused, but there was nothing there.

"Daniel, what is it? Daniel?"

Daniel turned around and ran down the hallway at full speed. He ran straight into his room and slammed the door shut.

"What the?" I said.

I looked up at the stairs once more and shrugged to myself. The kid was seeing things.

I began to walk back down the stairs, but a voice stopped me.

"Miss, I keep looking everywhere, but I can't find him," Sylvia said, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Huh?" I asked.

"I wish someone would stop that crying!" another maid said.

"Do you not hear it Miss?" Sylvia asked.

"Hear what?" I asked.

"The crying," a maid said.

"On the third floor…"

Next Chapter: Something strange is going on, and Anomie isn't sure what.

Spot and Jack return from New Jersey.

Author note: Well, I hope you enjoyed!