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Chapter 8

Flora's POV

It'd been a whole day since I'd run away. A whole day since I got here for good. A whole day since I'd last seen Eleanor. A whole day since David left. A lot of milestones occurred in 24 hours. I hadn't really done much in my first day of freedom, just kind of floated around the theatre. I had to stay out of sight in case one of pursuers decided to drop by. I knew they were coming, I just didn't know when. This was the safest place in the world to me, but now every shadow held the Delancy brothers or Mr. Lloyd. In the end, I retreated to my dressing room. Medda had always had an extra dressing room she maintained for me, in case I ever got out. I was really glad she had.

A sharp knock sounded on the door. I panicked. Who could it possibly be? "Flora?" I softened immediately. It was Medda. "There are some people who want to see you; do you mind if they come in?"

"No," I responded. "You can send them right in." The door swung open, and David, Les and Jack walked in. "David!" I bounced up and practically flew across the room towards him. "Hi! It's wonderful to see you!" Behind him, Jack cleared his throat. "And it's very nice to see you too." He winked charmingly. "So what brings you here?" I asked.

"Elle gave me something to give to you," David pulled a key out of his pocket. "Said you'll need it." He took my hand and pressed the key into my palm. I held it up to the light. For the better part of five years, this key had taken up residence in a locked drawer in my desk. I should have known that if I was smart enough to know where Elle kept things she didn't want people to find, she would be smart enough to do the same.

"I will need it," I said, as I walked over to my vanity table and sat down on the chair in front of it. The boys fanned out behind me. "Thank you."

"She also said that you should dye your hair and cover your freckles," Les added. "And that you and Davey would be…" I never got to hear the rest of that sentence, as David had clapped a hand over his mouth. Would be what? Knowing Elle, it would be some silly romantic thing. Still, we'd be what?

"Well, she would think that I'd need to cover my freckles," I snickered. "She hates them! Thinks they make me look diseased or something."

"I don't think they make you look diseased," David said, then flinched, looking like he could kick himself for having said that. It was a little odd, but endearing.

"Well, thank you," I smiled warmly. "But she's right, they're far too recognizable." I grabbed a small compact from my vanity and flicked it open. I picked up a makeup brush and set to work, quickly covering my freckles. Throughout, I chatted with the boys about the strike, what it was like to be a newsie, and whether Les would ever have a chance with one of the dancers here. Once I was done, I turned to show them my handiwork. "So what do you think?"

"If I didn't know it was yous, I nevah woulda guessed," Jack said, smiling broadly. "But dat hair…"

"I know, I know, it's as bright as an open flame," I shrugged. "But somehow, I don't think you'd want to stick around while I dye it." Les wrinkled his nose. The older boys didn't seem to care that much, but I honestly had never heard of anyone who would want to sit idly by while I dyed my hair. I had to figure out something for them to do.

"Flora!" a squeaky voice sounded from the doorway. Kitten, one of the showgirls, breezed in. "Darling, Medda told me you might need something to hide your hair. Not that I would, if I were you. I mean, I would kill for hair like that! And if you ever sent a lock of your hair as a love token, the lucky boy would never forget you!" She brandished a blue glass bottle of dye. "Anyway, so this is dark brown. I was debating giving you bleach, but you'll be too pale. You'll look like an ice princess, and you may think that's pretty, but I have the most positively horrific stories I could tell you about the things people say to you. This one time, someone asked…" She trailed off as she finally noticed the boys. "Ooh! Does someone have visitors? I'm Kathleen Keenan, better known as Kitten." They introduced themselves quickly and nervously. They seemed a little shaken up, but I couldn't blame them. Kitten was a lot to take in, but I liked her anyway. She was tough as nails under the flighty exterior, and smart as a whip. She was a classical beauty, with lush waves of honey blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sky on a cloudless day, so I guess that threw them off too. "So what brings you here?"

"We're here to take Flora back to the lodging house so the bad guys who're looking for her don't find her?" Les piped up. I froze up; they had come to take me to the lodging house? To hide me? I weighed my options. Staying with Medda would be the ideal, but this would be the most obvious place to look, and they'd assume I'd come back here eventually. That ruled here out. The lodging house was the next best option. It'd be easy to hide myself there with so many people there, and no one would think to look there. It wasn't a perfect fit – I could only imagine how I'd deal with living with hordes of boys for 3 months – but it was my best options.

"Y'alright, Flora?" Jack said cautiously. I started; I hadn't realized that I'd totally disengaged from reality.

"Fine," I answered. "Just give me some time, Kitten and I have got to make me a different girl." Their faces relaxed, totally relieved. It made me happy to think that it mattered to them that I was okay, that they were willing to take me in. "So all three of you can make yourselves busy until I'm done." Kitten and I shepherded them out, and got to work.

David's POV

"You don't think she looks diseased?" Jack's voice was full of barely compressed hilarity. "Very smooth. I bet she'd love to go out with you, now that she knows you don't think she'd diseased." We were leaning against Flora's door, waiting up for the dye to set. Les was off with some of the showgirls, charming them to pieces.

I flushed. "It just slipped out, okay? It's not like I could tell her that I thought her freckles just made her more beautiful?" I blinked, fully realizing what I'd just said. Jack's eyebrows looked like they were about to jump off his face. "Don't tell anyone I said that."

"What, that ya clearly are crazy 'bout her?" Jack started laughing.

"I'm not crazy about her! I barely know her!" I sputtered. "I just think she's…"

"Poifect? The most beautiful goil y'evah saw?" now he was practically in hysterics.

"You are absurd," I threw my hands up in exasperation. I was about to say something else that would probably be a lot less polite, but Les came running towards us.

"Ey, kiddo, finally toired of flirtin' wit da showgoils?" Jack reached down and ruffled his hair. Les brushed him off, his face serious.

"You know how you said if anyone was asking for Flora, I had to tell you?" he began. My heart started racing. Had they come already for her?

"Is someone asking for her?" I tried to keep myself calm. It could be nothing, it could be nothing, it could be nothing.

"Yeah," he responded. He was fidgeting nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. "This really tall old man. He looks like a murderer or something. D'you think he's a murderer?"

I didn't bother answering. We let Les lead us to where he'd seen the man. I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly who this man was. We rounded a corner, and came to the top of the stairs. Les was about to start down the steps, but Jack grabbed him by his collar and hauled him back around the corner.

"What do you mean escaped?" Medda's voice was uncharacteristically sharp. "She just walked away in broad daylight, exactly like the last two times? I would think that you would learn from your mistakes!"

"St. Jerome's is not designed to keep people in, Ms. Larkson," the man responded icily. "Perhaps Miss Collins would be better suited to the refuge." A chill crept up my spine. He was the man who'd come to take her back the other day. Mr. Lloyd.

Medda laughed mirthlessly. "You'd never do that. Her precious inheritance would go down the drain if you made her leave."

Jack elbowed me in the ribs. "Go tell Flora someone's come for her," he whispered. "We need to get her out as soon as possible." I turned, and ran soundlessly to her dressing room.

I knocked as quietly as I could on her door. It swung open, but with the wrong girl on the other side.

"Hey sweetheart!" Kitten chirped loudly. "You're just in time! It's finally dry, so you can take her too that lodging house of yours!"

I desperately shushed her. "Someone's come to take her back, and we need to get her out NOW, so if you could not mention that her name is Flora, or that she's going to the lodging house, or really anything about her, that would be wonderful."

Flora pushed her way past her friend. "We've got to go?" I nodded. She squared her shoulders. "Give me a minute." She bustled back into the room.

Kitten turned to me with an expression of utmost horror on her face. "She's going back?" she whispered agonizingly.

I nodded. "Not if I can help it." That sounded very heroic in my head, but came out sounding more nervous than I'd intended.

She smirked. "A hero, huh?" I guess it did sound pretty heroic. "She thinks she doesn't need one. Neither do I. Don't try to be her hero." I deflated a little. I knew she didn't need one, but I had this irrational urge to make all her problems vanish. "But she does need someone to help her," she continued. "And you can do that."

"Hey!" Flora re-emerged from her room carrying a carpet bag, her hair tucked up in a wide brimmed hat. She quickly hugged Kitten, and then turned to me. "Are we going or not?" she asked and we ran to the stairs.

As we approached, I started to hear the sounds of a heated argument.

"And if that is how you feel, Mr. Lloyd, I would thank you to leave my property and never return!"

"Yeah!" Les interjected. He and Jack were standing beside Medda, giving Mr. Lloyd twin death glares.

We came to the top of the stairs. "Medda," I began nervously. "Thank you for having us, but I think we'll be leaving now." She looked up sharply, her expression clearly stating that we needed to leave as soon as possible.

"It was lovely to see you, David," she spoke coolly, and I took that as a sign for us to get the hell out. Flora started walking with an unhurried grace, radiating calmness. I tried to match her calm, but every step I took, I felt like Mr. Lloyd was staring her down, trying to place her. We reached the bottom of the stairs, and my nerves settled. We were safe.

"Miss Collins," his icy voice sounded. I tensed up, but she kept moving towards the door, completely calm. "Miss Collins!" He took two long strides towards her and caught her arm in a tight grip. She whirled angrily.

"How dare you!" she exclaimed, attempting to wench her arm away. I had to keep myself from staring. She'd modified her voice so it had a soft Irish lilt to it, and was much higher than her normal speaking voice. Her hair pulled back and the absence of her freckles made her face look sharper, more angular, especially with her face twisted in anger as it was then. She was completely unrecognizable. "I have no idea who this Miss Collins is, but I can assure you, I am not her!"

He looked at her closely, than let his grip relax. "I am terribly sorry, miss..?"

She gave an affected little sniff. "I should hope you are." She turned to me. "David, I would like to leave now." She took my arm, and turned towards the exit.

"Miss?" he inquired, now with a sycophantic smile. He'd apparently decided that she was somebody high class, not to be angered. "I don't believe I caught your name."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Unsurprising, as I didn't say it." She turned back, and we continued towards the door. Suddenly, she stopped again. "However, if you must know, my name is Viola Adler." And with that, she gracefully glided out the stage door.

A/N: The reviews you guys have been writing are so wonderful! You are the greatest people currently living. Also, bonus points for anyone who can guess the origin of Flora's alias!