a purposeful past | s.s

Chapter Three

It had been in her room that they'd found the violin.

Amy had watched the girl, Domino, storm into the room as if she'd owned the place, a flock of newsies following closely behind. She'd watched as the girl moved the small dresser from its place, revealing a cleverly cut hole in the floor where the violin had resided all those years. And she'd watched as the girl had gone back in, hours later, to return the violin back to its original hiding spot.

The girl had been watching her, too.

They'd called her Domino. The short amount of time it took the newsies to get used to her was astounding, considering it'd taken them much longer to get used to Amy. She hadn't been the one who'd assaulted one of their boys with a frying pan.

And yet, despite all that, the newsies had listened attentively as Domino had revealed what she knew about everything that had really been going on, why they had suddenly all been dying. Why they still were. And all the while, she'd been watching her, and Amy knew she'd been watching for a while.

She truly had no idea how the newsies had accepted her so fast.

She was currently seated inside the entrance room with the two other girls, and a couple of the other newsies. Lane had just come in, and Domino had never left. Katherine had left early the day before, saying that she had an important paper to finish up for the next day. She suspected most of the newsies were out eating lunch someplace. Race would be out at Sheepshead, no doubt.

Oh, and Spot - the newsie leader from Brooklyn - was present in the room as well. He'd shown up because-

"We dunno how it happened," Spot explained quietly, jaw clenched tight. "We was jus gettin' back from grabbin' a bite ta eat, when dis kid from Queens comes staggerin' in, sayin' dat Three was... dead. Dey couldn't find any wounds. Musta been poisoned."

Amy tensed. Dead, her mind screamed at her. Just like Laura. Your best friend is dead. You'll never see her again. She's dead she's dead she's dead-

Amy hadn't been the only one who'd been affected by the words. Most of the newsies winced, but she noticed the way Lane's jaw clenched, and how she turned away. She'd accidentally heard part of her and Finch's conversation the day before. How Lane suspected her own mother had been poisoned as well.

"So who'll replace him?" Lane questioned swiftly, not allowing anyone's grief to hang around in the air for too long.

"Jest, most likely," Spot told her. "He'd be a good replacement."

Lane nodded and leaned back onto the wall, crossing her arms. Her eyes took on a vacant look that Amy was sure were identical to her own.

Because of Laura. Laura, who was dead. Laura, who wasn't coming back.

Laura, who Amy had sworn to protect.

Jack sighed. "So what now?"

A chill seemed to run down Domino's spine, as if she'd sensed all the eyes that subtly shifted to her. "Well, we'll jus do what we can. Lie low. Keep tha young-ah ones close at all times. Even though dey's jus goin' aft-ah people like you two-" she gestured to Spot and Jack- "it don't mean dey won't start targetin' oth-ahs if dey think dey's standin' in tha way 'a what dey want."

"And what do dey want?" Spot questioned, cocking his head challengingly. He'd seemed wary of the girl since they'd been quickly introduced, and no one had bothered telling him who she really was, why she'd come to Manhattan. Amy couldn't blame him.

It was perhaps for this reason, Domino squared her shoulders slightly and said, shortly, "I dunno what, Mr. Brooklyn. But it's clear dey's aft-ah somethin'. Maybe dey wanna take control 'a all tha boroughs, so's dey's startin' wit pickin' off tha lead-ahs. Seems like an effective way ta get what dey want, right?"