Two people from each borough sat in the dark room around a table, united for the first time in years. Wars have an uncanny way of unifying people in unique ways.
Among the crowd sat the familiar faces of Andy, Socks, Fall, Caz, Jack, Spot Conlon, and even a shaking Davey. An exception had been made, and both Albert and Race had been allowed in the meeting. The former was allowed because of his connection to the case, and the latter because his protests from being left out drove everyone to the brink of insanity before Jack finally caved and gave him permission to sit in on the meeting if he promised to keep quiet.
Samantha and Katherine stood off to one side of the room, quietly discussing the proceedings of the meeting when Jack shut everyone up with a loud yell.
"Thank you'se all fah coming," he began, a formal tone undertaking his voice. "We 'ave called ya here because a some news dat we have recently uncovered. In case ya dropped off da face of the earth within the last few weeks, you know 'bout the unsettlin' number a newsie deaths. We have called dis meetin' because we need every borough's help if we want any hope a defeatin' this common enemy."
"And who exactly is dis 'common enemy', Kelly?" the leader of Queens called out.
Katherine stepped forward, jumping in to answer the question despite the evident direction it had been aimed. "We have reason to believe that Snyder is behind some of the attacks."
"A regular Sherlock Holmes you got yaself, Jack," the leader of East Side said. "Dat was obvious when he murdered Ryder 'fore all da newsies a Harlem."
"You said 'some a the attacks'," Socks noted, glancing at Katherine with a look of inquiry. "Are you'se implying dat not all a dem are from Snyder?"
"Yes," Samantha answered.
"Ruth?" Spot called out in surprise. "What's she got tah do with any a dis? She ain't even a newsie."
"Shut ya trap Spot and listen to da girl. She has everything tah do with dis." He turned to Samantha, giving her an encouraging nod.
"I have a confession tah make," she began, proud that her voice held firm. "My name ain't Ruth. I told lots a you dat because it was easier than explainin' my real identity. My name is Samantha. Samantha Snyder." Maybe the pause was a tad dramatic but it gave everyone a moment to process the information before they all began shouting questions, insults, anything they could think of.
"Would you all shut up!" Katherine huffed above the noise, bringing everyone back to their seats. "Let Sam explain herself."
"I don't care what your opinions a me are. I lied tah you because if I hadn't, ya woulda done exactly what you'se are doin' right now. You would have assumed. I am not my father and anyone who believes dat, can pick up deir chair and get out a dis room right now." Raising an eyebrow at the silenced leaders and seconds, she was satisfied that they would at least hear her out.
"Queens and Harlem," Katherine started. "A few weeks ago, some of your newsies were jumped by three masked people. Ryder was one of the attacked. Less than a week later, Snyder and his friends showed up at Harlem and killed Ryder. We believe that these two attacks are connected but not by the same people."
"Who else would be behind it?" Someone called out.
"The same people who tried tah kill me," Samantha replied. "Yestaday, a young girl was killed as a message fah me. She was shot, and over her dead body, a sign readin' 'da Daughter a the Refuge will die' was pinned tah the wall." She tossed the piece of wood into the center of the table for each person to see.
"How do ya know dis wasn't Snyder?" Spot asked.
"Because dis ain't Snyder's fingerprints," the leader of Midtown answered, sharing a glance with Andy. "He wouldn't do dis kind a thing. He would 'ave shot Samantha the moment he had her in clear view."
"You'se said dey tried tah kill you?" Someone inquired.
"A trained killer," Samantha said. "And I'm willing tah bet he was exactly like da ones Queens and Harlem were jumped by. Midtown is right, Snyder wouldn't go tah all dat trouble."
"But if dey wanted you'se dead, why go tah all dat trouble, Snyder or not?"
"Because dey wanted tah leave a message fah all you'se."
"But Snyder is still our enemy," the Bronx leader stated. "Dat much is clear by what happened tah Ryder."
"There's something else that makes it clear too. And I think it might be the key to finding out who our second enemy is," Katherine said. "Nine years ago, four children were kidnaped within weeks of each other. Disappeared without a trace and never heard from again." Tossing the file onto the table, she allowed them a moment to flip through the information, although they hadn't been able to find any information on Snyder's mention of the fourth child. "Snyder kidnaped them and has been holding them in another building that he owns for all this time. The same building that Caz was rescued from."
"Why?" The girl in question asked. "What is his motive fah kidnaping four kids?"
"We are hoping to learn that when we rescue the children."
"A rescue mission?" The East Side leader piqued up. "Are ya crazy?"
"Yes," Jack said, reentering the conversation. "If rescuin' three children who 'ave endured Snyder's abuses fah nine years deems us as crazy, then I must be insane. We need newsies willing tah be a part of da rescue, at least ten."
"It's a suicide mission!"
"It's worth it," the Manhattan leader stated, turning his back on the East Side leader and on the conversation. "Anyone willing tah go will be informed of da mission in a week's time."
"What were we called 'ere fah?" Spot asked. "I know it wasn't tah discuss savin' dese kids."
"No it wasn't," Katherine agreed. "It was to create a truce. An agreement between every borough in New York to fight together against this common enemy. If we are fighting against each other while facing someone who isn't afraid of killing innocent people, we will lose a lot more than any of us know."
"And what does dis truce entail?" The leader of Queens questioned.
"To fight fah every newsie no matter where dey come from," Samantha said. "To stand up against anyone dat dares ta threaten the security of da newsies. To become one with each other. You are da Newsies of New York City, not a Brooklyn, or Queens, or Lower Manhattan, or of da East Side. It's a truce tah start acting like what you claim tah be."
"Every leader willing to accept the terms will be asked to sign this paper," Katherine stated, holding up a sheet of paper.
"Dis isn't fah your sake, it's fah da sake of every newsie dat you have sworn yourselves tah protect," Jack added. "To win we 'ave tah stand together. It's about every boy and every girl who waved a newspaper in deir hands each day tah feed themselves. So don't make dis about you."
It was quiet as every leader thought through the proposal. Spot Conlon was the first to stand up.
"Give me da sheet," he demanded.
"Are you'se kiddin' me?" His second-in-command coughed. "We can handle 'em. We're Brooklyn, fah goodness sake."
Spot didn't hesitate before punching the boy senseless with one swift swing.
"Brooklyn or not, dis fight ain't about strength. And I think we all know dat Brooklyn is lackin' a good deal in da second area," he said, glaring at the boy who was currently nursing his now swollen lip. "Brooklyn is in. I'll send two guys fah the rescue mission." And with that, Spot grabbed his second by the arm and dragged him out of the room, glaring at everyone in his way, and never looking back once.
"Who's next?" Jack asked.
Soon the signature of every borough was penned, the paper nearly full, and Jack allowed everyone to go home. It had been a long enough day and the leaders needed to spread the word.
"Dis is amazing," Jojo exclaimed after Samantha had given him the news.
"I just wish dey didn't 'ave tah be uniting under somethin' like dis. We're so young Jojo."
"I know," he sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor as he gently shook his head.
Suddenly, an idea shot through his head and he caught Samantha's hand in his own.
"Come on," he said, a boyish grin crossing his face as he dragged Samantha through the city until he reached their destination.
He sat down at the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge, his feet dangling in the air as he gazed down at the spot him and Samantha had spent an afternoon swimming at too many years ago. Samantha gave a quiet chuckle as she slid down beside him.
"So dis is ya grand idea?" She smiled.
"With everythin' being how it is, I don't expect much more time fah things like dis," Jojo said. "Quiet things. Peaceful things. I figured we should enjoy what we 'ave while we still 'ave it."
"Were you really goin' tah let me go?" Samantha questioned, hesitant to bring up their conversation at the train station.
"If it was what you needed, then yeah. But would I 'ave forgotten you, moved in from you, or let anyone else take ya place in my life? Not in a million years," he said honestly. "I meant what I said. All a it."
"I told you dat I don't know what love is. And I still don't think dat I fully do."
"I don't think any a us fully understand love. Makin' da choice tah care fah someone despite what dey do, how badly dey hurt us, or how much dey change. It's choosing tah never give up on a person. At least dat's what I like tah think of it as. My mother once said to me dat 'Love is like giving away your most treasured toy. It's a choice ya have tah make, to offer da person such a priceless gift, and tah trust 'em to hold it as gently as you did.'"
"And what is ya most treasured toy?" Samantha teased. Jojo let out a joyful laugh, rolling his eyes.
"I was five, okay."
"Hmm, sure," Samantha laughed.
"Oh shut up," Jojo grinned, bumping her shoulder with his. And the two settled back into silence once more, laughter still hanging in the air.
"My mother," Samantha began softly. "When she would play with me in da middle a winter because she knew how happy it made me. Mr. Jacobi, when he would give me hot cocoa whenever I asked because he liked seein' me smile. Peter, when he would tease me or push in a passionate discussion about da children because he knew I loved defendin' them."
Jojo gave her a gentle smile.
"Exactly," he said, slipping his hand into her's, their cold fingers immediately warming at the connection.
"Say it," she whispered. Jojo glanced down at her, confusion crossing his face. "Say it."
"Say wha-"
"I need you to say it," she pushed.
"I love you," he said honestly, despite his growing confusion.
"I love you too," she replied, a small smile finding its way to her lips. Jojo gazed down at her in tender awe. "I needed to say it back."
"Can I kiss you?" he blurted out, flushing when he realized what he said. He pushed his free hand into his hair in a nervous gesture, shuttering out what was meant to be an apologize. "I didn't- that was-"
Samantha let out a gentle laugh before leaning up and pressing her lips against his.
"Is that a yes?" Jojo mumbled when she pulled away.
"Yes nitwit, that's a yes," she laughed. "How much time do you think we have before Jack calls us back to start planning?"
"An hour or two, I'd guess. You have any ideas?"
"What would you say to a cup of Mr. Jacobi's hot cocoa?" She grinned.
"I would say, 'Lead the way'," he smiled back.
"Race you there," Samantha yelled and took off like a shot, Jojo following right after her, the sound of their laughter carrying long into the distance of the setting sun of the city's evening.
Just the epilogue left guys. Cue sobbing emojis.
And yes, for all you history peeps, the first Sherlock Holmes book was published in 1892, but the author had already published multiple of the stories in magazines beginning in 1887.
Jeremiah 9:23-24 - Thus says the Lord: "Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord."