folklore

- 6 -

Oscar Delancey paced the room while his brother, Morris, sat down, resting his chin on his hand. The reopening of the Refuge became the laugh of the town as Snyder failed to get the "uncivilized" kids back into there, so he eventually called old reliables #1 and #2.

"'course that fat-ass Snydah needs us ta do his doity woik fah 'im again." Oscar spat as he crumpled a piece of paper into a ball and threw it at Morris.

"watch it." He pointed a finger at him.

"he really expects us ta know wheah every single kid that got let out'a tha Refuge is? What is we, weasel detectors?" He vented and slumped down in a chair in defeat.

"we can take some rats instead." Morris suggested with a raised eyebrow, in which Oscar looked up at him in confusion. "it's amazin' how no one sees tha pattern... One newsie goes in, moah follow 'im in."

Oscar's eyebrows furrowed as his gaze was fixated onto the dusty, brown table. "yer ontah somethin'." He clicked his tongue and pushed his chair back before pacing the room once again. "but we can't jus' take any newsie. This one's gotta be of significance ta all'a 'em so's we's sure lots moah will follow 'im in."

"like Kelly?"

"Kelly ain't a newsie no moah, dimwit." He glared at his younger brother, who rolled his eyes, unfazed. "plus, theah's someone moah powerful than Kelly and if we get 'im, theah's no chance of any breakouts of sorts."

Morris crossed his arms. "an' why is that?"

"'cause he's only seen when othah's need his assistance. But what 'bout when he needs help foah a change, then what?" Oscar was greeted with silence, which proved his point further. "exactly. But we need bait ta lure this one in."

Morris stood up and pressed his palms to the table, hyperextending his elbows. "like what?"

"a tall, skinny brat called Lilliana." Oscar snarled.

It had just so happened that the Delancey's had wanted revenge against Lilly's family for years and her parents' death made her the perfect target.

It was no coincidence that Spot had heard a piercing scream echo through the streets. Without another thought, he ran towards the direction from where it came from until he reached an area near the Brooklyn Bridge. His attention turned to the window where flowers grew on it's sill, indicating his old selling spot that he used to share with...

"shit." Spot mumbled and checked every nook and alley for his best friend. Another scream pierced through the air and Spot followed it, like a hound dog sniffing for a piece of meat.

But once he reached the location of which it came from, the alleyway was empty.

"Spot!" Hot Shot called as he ran to his best friend, Felix following closely behind. "what tha hell was that?"

Spot only faced them with horror plastered all over his face as his hand loosely gripped on a newsie cap with a tag that was once labelled Jack,

Now labelled Lilliana.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧