From The Journals of Katherine Plumber

September 9th, 1899

(TW: Talks of suicidal thoughts, depression and anxiety. I cried a lot while writing this, since I feel very similar to how Katherine will feel in this chapter. If you are uncomfortable with reading those parts, you could read all the way till she starts to write in her Journal and you'll get a basic idea of what is happening in this chapter. National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255)

I felt the warm sun on my cheek as I woke up. I looked next to me to see Jack tangled in the sheets we pulled off the clothesline the night before. I giggled softly and smiled, placing my hand on his cheek. Jack's eyes fluttered open and he smirked at me, pulling me tight into his arms.

"Mornin'." He smirked.

"Morning." I smiled, before Jack pulled me tighter and kissed me gently. I smiled and after a little, pulled away, "We should go back to my place to get changed? It's still a little early. Plus, a nice, morning walk sounds wonderful right now."

"Okay." He smiled as he got his shirt on, slipping his suspenders over top.

I smiled and stood to get my petticoat and skirt on before grabbing my shawl. I hung the sheets back up to air out as Jack leaned against the pole next to me, "Hiya." He smirked, throwing his cap on.

"Hi." I giggled, stepping into his arms.

"Ready ta go?" He asked.

"Sure." I smiled.

We walked to the fire escape and ran down and onto the quiet streets. Going through the city in the morning was always fun, the sky was clear and smog free, alleyways were semi safe and quiet, and the sun cast fun shadows of the tall skyscrapers onto the streets.

We neared my apartment building, seeing it looked busier than usual. There were a few men outside with a carriage, moving furniture into it. I got excited, thinking it was a new neighbor, or that my annoying downstairs neighbor, Karen, was moving.

Jack and I headed upstairs, and to my apartment, seeing that my front door was open. I ran over and looked in to see my father speaking with one of the men who was taking my furniture, "What the hell is this!?" I asked, walking over to him. Jack stayed in the hall, not wanting to be seen. I honestly don't blame him.

"Oh, hello, dear." Father said.

"Don't 'dear' me! Where in the hell is my furniture going!?" I asked.

"Please, watch your language. A young lady should not speak like that." He said.

"So tell me where my furniture is going!?" I asked.

"I am taking it back home." He said.

"This is my home. If you don't forget, I pay for it." I said.

"Actually, I do. You pay for this apartment with the check I send you each month, without that check you can't live here." He said.

"Are you seriously taking away my freedom because of some stupid strike over a month ago!?" I asked.

"This isn't just because of a strike, darling. This is about the way you're acting. An heiress, such as yourself, does not run around the city with a boy like Kelly while working as a paperboy of all things." He said.

"What? How do you know that?" I asked.

"I have friends, dear. I know what you two have been up to this past month and find it rather disturbing. Late nights spent at the lodging house, I could only assume what you were doing and pray I am wrong." I said.

"What I was doing was helping the boys because you obviously won't!" I snapped.

"Katherine, dear, you have a choice: Leave the boy and you get your apartment, money and a job. Or, you can stay with him and be unemployed, homeless and poor." He said.