Alrighty then. This chapter's a bit shorter than the others. It's a sort of lead-in, if you will. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies or any of its characters, but I do own all others.

As soon as I had left the millinery I ran straight for the carriage Caroline Woods had mentioned.

How did she know? Had she been thinking about it all along? What would possess her to give me so much money and let me walk out of the shop without asking how I would pay her back? That woman was an incredible enigma to me.

And her parting words. They made everything come together, but I was enormously surprised that she would say something so personal out loud, especially to me. I had always been the loser of the bunch and Caroline Woods had made no secret of it. But was it possible that she actually felt a kinship with me? A kind of secret friendship with a fellow outsider? A foreign delivery girl and a woman who broke society's rules?

No time, I said to myself. No time to think of silly things.

I got to the carriage and looked around for the owner. I had never rented a carriage before, so how would this work? I saw a door nearby and as I was so hyped up from the action of the day, I tapped on it loudly, hoping someone would be there that might help me.

Luck had swung my way (surprising, right?) and the owner of the house was also the owner of the carriage. I quickly explained my request, shoved a sufficient amount of money in his hand for the day and rode off with the horse and carriage. I think he might have yelled a bit after me, but I was already a long way away.

I have to admit, me sitting astride a valiant horse on my way to save the day was quite a sight. Isabel Romero, I thought to myself, hero extraordinaire. I daydreamed about my brave feats for a bit, but I was rocked out of my fantasy by the thought of my father. I hadn't gone home the night before and he would be inevitably very worried. I decided to deliver the horse to the newsies and run back to tell him I was fine.

I had made particular attention to remember the exact route Davey had taken me that morning, so I simply followed my way back. I showed up at the building in all my glory, wanting to shout but knowing it would arouse suspicion. I hopped off the horse and leaned down towards the small windows out of which I had seen Jack pass the banners.

"Wait until you see the surprise I have for you," I said to a surprised Jack who was ready to hand me some papes. He saw the horse's feet from the window and half climbed out to see what all my bragging was about.

"What's this?" he asked.

"A present, compliments of Ms. Caroline Woods," I replied.

Everyone else pulled themselves out of the window to observe my feat.

"Nice job, Izzie," Carlos said with a disbelieving nod of his head. "Who'd have ever thought, huh?"

I wanted to bask in my accomplishment but I knew we had work to do. I helped Jack and the others load the banners into the carriage, nearly tripping over myself and the surprising weight of mere pieces of paper. Denton and Jack were the last to leave the building as we all rode on the carriage (me guiding the horse, of course) throughout the city, tossing the banners every which way.

We went to factories, textile mills, poor neighborhoods; anywhere we hoped there would be sympathetic hearts for our cause. We made a trip into the Cuban barrios Carlos had so hoped he could recruit. They looked at Carlos suspiciously (once again) but willingly accepted the banners and from what I could tell from their faces as we rode away, they were at least mildly interested.

I saw newsies handing out the banners everywhere we went. I saw women, men, children, youths, everyone holding a banner, and most were reading them (although I did see someone pick up their dog's 'business' with one. I wanted to slap him, but I didn't.) People from all economic walks of life were reading our story, and I was proud. More proud than I had ever been.

We ran out of the banners in early afternoon. I sent everyone to Tibby's with the money left over from Caroline Woods and told them to buy lunch for anyone that wanted it.

I ran back to my house to write my father a note for him to see once he was finished with work. I bounded up the building stairs and opened the door. I didn't hear anyone, so I walked into my room to look for a pen and paper.

My father. My father was lying asleep on my bed, like he had been waiting there all night. I felt a huge pang of guilt as I slowly shook him awake.

"Papá? What are you doing?"

It took him a minute to sit up while he rubbed his eyes. "Cariño, you're here. I was worried when you didn't come home last night," he said.

"I'm sorry, papá, there was something I had to do." Then to get the pressure off me for a moment I said, "But why aren't you at work?"

"Oh, they'll be fine without me for one day."

That just about killed me. He was so worried about me (irresponsible. little me) that he skipped a precious day of work to make sure I was all right.

He leaned over the side of the bed and wrapped me in a hug that I thought would suck the breath out of me. "You're all right though, Isabel. That's what matters."

I couldn't stop a solitary tear from running down my cheek. "I'm really sorry, papá."

He looked confused. "Why are you crying, cariño?" he asked.

I brushed the tear off as fast as I could. He was quick. "I haven't been around much," I said as I sat down next to him on my bed.

He stroked my hair and smiled. "No, Isabel querida. I realized last night when I was sitting here that I'm the one that hasn't been around much."

"What do you mean, papá? You're always here when you come home from work. I mean I - "

"No, no, that's not what I mean. What I mean is, you're nearly 18 now and I don't know you." He got up and began pacing around the room. "It's just that ever since your mother died… well, I've been so worried about taking care of you that I never really talked to you. You've been so busy lately and I didn't even know what you were busy doing. I should know, I'm your father."

"I wanted to tell you, papá, but –"

"I should have asked, cariño, that's the point. Father's are supposed to ask. Kids never tell."

I bit my cheek.

"I just want to say that I'm sorry. And," he said hesitantly. "I'd like to get to know you better. If it's alright with you."

I was terrified, and yet deeply moved. "Of course, papá." But then I remembered. "But not today. I'm busy, you see, and –"

He put his hand on my cheek. "Tell me all about it tonight, all right?" he said.

I nodded.

"Now get going. You must be doing something very important to keep you from sleeping."

I smiled at him. On a whim, I ran over and kissed him on the cheek. Just before I opened the door, I heard my father say, "And be careful, Isabel! I don't want to hear about any injuries later."

I made a mental note and ran back to Tibby's where I knew the newsies were waiting.

The entire restaurant was packed with people. I was surprised that Caroline Woods's money had gone so far, but so glad that it had.

"Hey, Cuba!" Jack called from across the restaurant. "Get over here. We gotta use some of this money on you, ya know."

Please believe me when I swear to you that that roast beef sandwich was the best I had ever had in my life.