"Thank you." I smiled at Julia- though I did not know her well, she had been nothing but kind to me in our limited conversations.
"Of course." Julia sent me a shy smile in return as she handed me the piece of the bread she had stolen earlier that day- she did not speak much to anybody but her brother.
Julia was the only other girl I had seen taking shelter in the Old Factory. Her and her brother were runaways from an orphanage in Guilford. Not only had the treatment there been horrible, but boys and girls had been constantly separated and unable to speak to each other. Her brother, unable to tolerate never seeing Julia in addition to their parent's deaths, had snuck into the girl's dormitory one night and the two of them had escaped together. They had been on the streets for almost a year before coming across the Factory.
Despite her timidness, Julia frowned and spoke to caution me. "They are still looking for you. It has been months."
I sighed. Eli, John, and some of the other children had been keeping me updated on the posters that were posted on every storefront and police station. The police had even come here once, calling out my name. But we were always prepared for such things, even before I was such a well-known face. As soon as John and I had spotted the officers approaching and sent down a warning, the other children had scrambled to join us on the roof, bringing along all signs of us occupying the factory as we holed up and waited for them to leave before finally returning to our shelter.
We all had something to hide from- some of the children were afraid of being returned to an inhumane orphanage or a workhouse. Some were on the run from abusive families, or oppressive boarding schools that they had been sent off to. Almost all of the children here were on the run from the law, forced into a life of petty crime.
My crime was not petty. I seemed to be running more than the rest seeking refuge here now.
Everyone knew my face.
At least I could find a rare reprieve- Eli had offered me a pair of pants and a shirt that he had somehow acquired. With my hair wrapped in cloth, or tucked into the shirt with a cap atop my head, I looked enough like a boy that nobody had yet questioned my identity.
But, unfortunately, the threat of being caught kept me away from Main street, which was the best spot to pick pockets or steal food. It was where all the vendors set up their stands, and where the crowds all gathered, making it easy to disappear into the masses as needed.
So, I was stuck picking the odd pocket, or stealing the odd scraps off a windowsill. But these homes that I had to pray upon now were poorer, on the outskirts of my city, so I made certain not to take too much from them- just a crust of bread, or a handful of shepherd's pie. It was hard to hold back at times, but the other children at the factory were generally merciful- everyone shared what they could with the less fortunate.
The less fortunate; the criminals, the sinners- sharing their scraps with the even less fortunate. Meanwhile, the wealthiest of people hoarded all of their money, while also calling themselves good Christians.
The irony of this was not lost to me.
As if to add on to my fears, officers were doing more rounds in the area. Eli insisted that it was because of me- because they were trying to crack down harder on criminal activity now that it had been established that such criminals may target the wealthier homes and snatch children straight from their beds.
They had simply gotten lucky that it was not a real noble child that had been taken.
'Are you certain they would hang you?" A boy named Henry asked- he was not the first. Many of the other children had questioned the legitimacy of my fears, pointing out that what I had done had been in self-defense... and that, really, he had caused his own death. In addition to that, I had been adopted as a member of a noble family, and would surely be granted leniency as a result.
I sighed, tired of the same question month after month. Determined to be patient with these children, who had done so much for me- including not turning me in for the large reward being offered- I just repeated the same answer I had given from the first day I had shown up at the factory, weeping and rambling and covered in blood in the dead of night.
"I am not a true noble, Henry," I reminded him. "How many poorer people have you seen be hanged for crimes they did not commit, or had no choice but to commit? They are never given a fair chance to defend themselves. They are assumed to have come from bad blood- what is to stop them from assuming I am just as much from bad-blood, having not been born to a noble family?
Henry sighed, too, exasperated with the unfairness of our situation. Mine, especially- I had actually gotten the chance to escape this world, and in a moment of unfairness, it had been swiped away. They were all amazed, as well, when John and I had finally revealed our plot to steal those items from the Baldwin Manor and escape to France- and they all mourned the fact that I had been taken just days before I had been able to do so.
And now I was trapped here in London, with no money to go elsewhere, and my face posted on the front of every store and station and lamp. The large words, which read 'REWARD' may as well have said 'WANTED. DEAD OR ALIVE.'
I was quite proud of the fact that I could almost read all of those words. A little reminder of my time with Elizabeth and Miss Lancing.
The pounding of footsteps that were louder than they should have been alerted me to John's arrival- his limp forced him to put more weight on his good foot than what should have been necessary. I watched him make his way to our landing, brushing snow off his coat.
"It's freezing out," He informed us, his teeth chattering. I pulled him under my arm, hoping to share some of my warmth with him.
Indeed, it was freezing- we were in the midst of a blizzard. It was the only true blizzard I had ever seen- generally, we only got a few days of light flurries in the colder seasons. The London air was unusually crisp, despite the general staleness that was usually present this deep into the city.
"What news do you bring?" Another boy shouted from across the room- he was sitting among the other boys, as most of us were. Despite the fire in the center of the room, we were huddled close to one another to stay warm. The factory was large, and took quite a while to reach a reasonable temperature.
John shrugged. "Nothing all that new- the snow has now iced over the ground on Main street, as well, though. Several carriages have skidded off the road. Oh, and the bank is closed due to the weather. So those rich people will be real upset when they finally make it there and cannot even withdraw any money."
I laughed at the struggles of the rich right along with everyone else, though I found myself surprised at the sympathy I felt for them. While I did not possess any money, surely if I did and I could not access it, I would be rather upset. Especially after hitting a patch of ice on my journey to do so, making it far more complicated than it needed to be.
We sat in a circle and talked for a bit, until I decided that John was not warming up well enough and I decided to move us closer to the fire in the center of the room. The smoke was billowing out through the hole in the ceiling, and I decided that the snow was a stroke of luck- no officers would be out and about to notice the smoke, a sure sign that we were in here. On slightly warmer days, the fire only burned through the night, when it was too dark to take note of.
As we sat near the fire, Gideon, August, and Cyrus scooted over to sit close by. "Meli," Gideon greeted, kneeling beside me. "We scored some marbles- do you want to play?"
Sure enough, he opened his hand, exposing several clay marbles. I knew that only poorer children played with clay marbles- the richer children could afford the glass ones- and I hoped that he had not robbed a group of poor children.
Still, I did want to play. "Of course. Drop one in."
Once a marble had been placed on the floor, we all threw a marble at it. Mine landed closest, so I got the first shot- and knocked several out of the circle that had been scratched into the floorboards. The same happened with my second and third shots- it wasn't until my fourth that I missed a jump shot, which was unfortunate since it was impressive when I was able to make those.
August grumbled when it was his turn, complaining that I had already won, even if he got all the rest of the marbles knocked out. Gideon just shrugged and reminded him that we weren't playing for keeps- it would limit us to a single game, if we did.
Eventually a few other boys joined our games- I won several more rounds, though that was mostly because I was good at throwing my marble near the one placed on the ground before the game started, meaning I got to go first most often. Gideon won twice, though, and August, Cyril, and Mark all had a win under their belts.
"Eli, do you want to play?" I asked, looking up at him. He was sitting on the ladder that led up to the roof, watching the game from above. He just shook his head, and I let it go- he had never been all that good at marbles, and was too proud to lose. I had already had the conversation with him that losing was how you got better- I vividly remembered the game after game that I had lost when I had been little more than a toddler.
In the light of day, the snow making the sun seem even brighter as it streamed in through the cracked and broken windows of the factory, I looked at Eli as he watched the game. His injuries from the night that we had both been kidnapped had mostly faded, but he now had an angry red scar across his throat from where the blade had dug into him, as well as one trailing down him arm and another slight scar upon his cheek.
He did not truly comprehend the horrors that had conspired that night- though he had seen me being taken from my bed, and had felt the blade more than I had, he had not seen the unnamed man's death. He had not been pinned beneath him, he did not have his photograph plastered on every street.
Eli liked to pretend that it had never happened. I simply could not.
Few of us strayed outside- the weather was so horrid that we may well have not made it back to the factory, succumbing to the cold. In addition to that, the richer families that we usually stole from were traveling by carriage exclusively due to the weather, and were not walking out and about. As a result, the vendors were also not out, and had not been for several days.
The Factory was beginning to run a bit low on food. Until, that is, Julia's older brother, Aldous, came bolting in like the devil was on his heels, a line of sausages wrapped around the length of his arm and down his torso, a satchel of cheese and bread in his free hand.
His arrival spurred a flurry of movement among us- nobody had ever brought meat to the factory before, and I decided that I rather liked that Julia and her brother had found their way to the factory during the time I had spent with the Baldwins.
The boys on the first floor rushed to shove a board in front of the hole in the door that we came in and out of, in case Aldous was being followed. Some hurried off to collect sticks to cook the sausages with, while myself and a few others approached Aldous.
"Where did you get those?" I asked, observing that there was more than enough food in his arms to keep us all fed for a few days. "Surely the vendors are not back out in this chill?"
He shook his head, making sure to hand his sister the first piece of bread before tossing the food on the cloth in the middle of the room that we used as a table. I hurried to grab a piece for John and I before the crowd formed. "No, but the butcher left his window down. Take the bread first- it will go stale. Someone bring in snow to keep the cheese and meat in!"
Our outlook on the day had improved dramatically once the food was brought in- we laughed and talked and played games until we were exhausted. In the brightness brought on by the snow, sunset seemed to come later than usual, and we were all just about ready for sleep as the last few glimmers of light reached the factory windows.
I tucked John into bed beside two other boys and then sat on the floor beside the bed, leaning back against the mattress. It took only a few moments for John's breathing to even out.
Eli stretched, then stood up to make his way down the stairs. I assumed he was going to sneak a few more bites of food now that most everyone else had settled in for the night- that boy could eat endlessly.
"Not too much," I warned him quietly. "It has to last to the end of the blizzard."
He made a face at me but nodded, turning to make his way down the stairs. "You look like a goblin," He taunted. "You should wipe some of that dirt off."
I made a face right back at him, willing myself not to reach up and rub at the dried dirt smeared across my face. "Then people will be able to recognize me. That's the entire point of the dirt and the boys' clothing."
"Well, I prefer you in a dress."
"And I prefer you when your mouth is closed."
Eli chuckled, then did his best to make his way quietly down the rickety old steps. Most were used to the sound of other children making their ways in and out, and did not even shift at the sound.
Closing my eyes, I willed sleep to find me. I had not slept well since returning to the Factory- which was rather surprising. The Factory had always been my safeplace, the retreat where I was warm and sheltered and among others like me. I had always slept well here, even when I was sleeping on the hard floor.
I blamed the sudden change on the time I had spent with Elizabeth, sleeping in that grand bed. It had softened me up- so I was now sleeping sitting upright on the floor exclusively, determined to once again get myself used to the hardships of the life I had been born into.
"Get up! They're coming!" The sudden cry echoed through the factory, and I bolted upright along with all the other children. Eli was running up the stairs, the food folded up in the blanket as he scrambled up the ladder and shoved the tiny flapdoor to the roof open.
"Who?" Another boy shouted- not that it mattered. We had all prepared for such a day; The day that the Factory was raided in an effort to rid the city of all the streetchildren, or the day they realized a little girl who had committed murder resided here- making everyone else in the building guilty by association.
I had damned us all.
"No!" It was John who hobbled forward, his eyes ablaze. "We have to fight! It is our only chance!"
Eli glared down at him from the roof. "Are you mad? We do not stand a chance!"
John met his glare. "Are you mad? You think we are saving ourselves by running to the roof? All we are doing is corner ourselves!"
The scrambling about stopped for a moment, and we all looked amongst ourselves. From the first floor, I heard the board that was pressed against the hole in the door being shoved away, and it clattered across the floor.
"Yes!" Surprisingly, it was quiet little Julia who spoke up from the crowd. "We must fight back! Otherwise, they will arrest Amelia and give away that we are hiding here. Even if we are spared, we will be cast back into the streets in this blizzard! We shall all perish!"
"No!" I shouted, trying to push my way to the center of the group. "You musn't! They shall certainly hang you all if you-"
But now there were outraged cries echoing through the room of children as they all riled each other up. My objections were lost among the chaos.
Julia's brother was the first to surge forward, gripping Henry and Gideon by their arms, pulling them into action along with him as they charged towards the stairs. "Get them!"
Spurred by the readiness to fight in a few others, a mass of the older boys made for the door, hollering and shouting out battle cries. There was no time for me to communicate the risks- that attacking officers was an even worse crime that what any of them had ever done, that the police station likely knew where the officers had been sent and would come poking around if they did not return in a timely manner.
"No!" Was the only plea that escaped me. "Just let them take me!"
Eli leapt down from the ladder, shoving past John and I in his eagerness to join the fight. Nobody heeded my words, and I was knocked to the ground as others rushed past me.
I turned away, pushing myself to my feet and pulling John along with me to look out the window. The snow looked so peaceful- a stark contrast to the shrieking and fighting taking place just a floor below.
I could not bring myself to look to the first floor- while none of the other children here had known crime severe enough to have witnessed a murder, I had. I knew how horrid it was, how you would see such a scene every time you lay in the dark of night, or closed your eyes.
I would not watch. I couldn't. Be it the officers trying to arrest me, or the children trying to defend me who were hurt or killed. In my selfishness, I would look out the window until the other children came running upstairs to announce our victory, or until the officers came up from behind me to drag me away with the other surviving children.
"John," I urged quietly- or, rather, as quietly as possible, over the screaming and cheering from downstairs. It seemed we were winning. "Go up to the roof- hide behind the old barrel up there. Perhaps you will go unnoticed until the officers leave."
John looked up at me in alarm. "What about you?"
Shaking my head, I pushed him towards the ladder. I knew that only one of us could fit behind the barrel without being noticed. My being there would just put him in more danger. Besides, it was my crime that had led to this. If the other children were to die because of me, it was only fair I died, as well. "Do not worry about me. Just go!"
"Meli! Amelia!" One voice rose above the rest, and Eli come bolting up the stairs. His eyes met mine, and despite the cold air, a sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He looked frantic as he waved me over, stumbling over his own step in his panic. "Come quickly!"
Something in his tone had me hurrying forward without thought, and suddenly I was running after him and down the stairs. The fight seemed to have died down a bit- most of the children were standing to the sides of the room now, shouting and enthusiastically shoving at each other.
The intruders had been tied up- but I saw immediately that they were not officers. I paused before them, trying to comprehend what the long cloaks and brightly colored clothing meant.
All thoughts seemed to cease, though, as my gaze traveled down the line- and my eyes suddenly met the light blue ones that I had spent months sharing everything with.
"Elizabeth?"