a hopeless romantic | r.s

Chapter Twelve

"Be quiet," Lane muttered, cheeks flaring red. It was no secret that she wasn't the first person most chose when picking whom they wanted to associate themselves with. It had never been something she prided herself on, but she'd also never gone out of her way to make herself seem more sociable.

Well, aside from the times she'd attempted to make herself seem more noticeable to guys, of course.

"Albert's nice," Trek said, a bit absent. "He stopped by with two oth-ahs when he came ta me fa help when you 'n dat oth-ah boy was in tha Refuge. He came ta see me before dat, too. When he couldn't find ya. Ya seemed ta be real important ta him."

"I knew Albert before from in tha Refuge." Lane hesitated, before saying, "Tha foist time. Finch... he was tha one who tried ta save me when I was thrown in tha second time."

Trek stopped from where he was about to scan the finally found pape, looking up at her. "Finch? So, yer close wit him?"

"Yeah, wese togeth-ah," Lane said tersely. Something about saying what they were out loud felt so very wrong, yet she had no idea as to why.

"And ya love him?"

"Of course." Lane bit her lip, looking down. "I don't deserve him, honestly."

She anticipated Trek's reply, something along the lines of how he saw her as another daughter and that she deserved a lot of good things in the world, as that was how the conversation would usually go. But when no reply came her way, Lane looked up, confused.

"Ya should come look at dis, Lane," Trek said, sounding very, very concerned. "Jus... come see."

And so Lane stood up and headed over to where he was standing, looking down at the pape. And what she saw made her blood freeze in her veins.

Past Crimes of a Sixteen Year Old Girl Brought to Light.

And on the very front page, was a picture of her.

Lane burst through the door of the newsies lodging house, immediately finding Finch who was hunched over the pape, lips drawn into a serious frown.

"Finch-"

"Did ya do it?" Finch questioned without looking up at her.

Lane froze in her tracks. She knew he'd be there- he still wasn't allowed to go out selling with the other boys, but she hadn't expected this reaction from him. "Dat's tha thing," she said softly. "I don't remember."

"Ya don't remember," Finch muttered, rolling his eyes. "Course ya don't."

Lane scoffed. "What, ya think Ise lyin'?"

"Well, Lane, havin' killed someone is a little hard ta forget, don't ya think?"

"I don't know what ta tell ya!" she exclaimed. "Don't ya think I'd tell ya if I knew?"

"I dunno, love," Finch said, looking as though he was forcing the pet name out. "Seems like ya nev-ah tell me anythin'."

"Wha- since when?"

"Do ya really wanna ask me dat?"

Lane took in a deep breath, clasping her hands together. "I dunno 'bout what it said I did when I was young-ah, but I can tell ya dat I didn't hide nothin' inside tha lodge, much less somethin' dat I stole!"

"Or so she says."

She gritted her teeth. "Listen-"

"No, Lane," Finch interrupted, "you listen. Ise tired 'a nev-ah bein' taken seriously, jus 'cause ya don't want me ta have an opinion if it ain't tha same as yer's!"