Prologue

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I spent an entire year overseas in England. I was able to work at a restaurant when I turned sixteen and I became a waitress. I was often overlooked because of my accent and origin, but I quickly adapted to the culture in England.

My accent had disappeared and I began to learn proper English.  I met all kinds of interesting and unique people. I had made friends with some of the local Newsies in Plymouth and they agreed to let me stay with them. There seemed to be more girl Newsies in England than New York. They always asked about Jack and the newsie strike and all the other boys. It was nice to be able to hang out with other girls who were like me, a newsie. Well, previously a newsie.

Jack would write me letters for the first six months. At least once a week. Then dwindled to once a month. To every other month, until the last letter I got.

Dear y/n
Things have been alright. Everyone misses you. Race and mush especially. David and Les have gone back to school, so we never see them anymore. Sometimes on Sunday's they will swing by the lodging house but it's not the same.
Your room hasn't changed since you left. I go and sleep in there sometimes. I miss you a lot, I am grateful for all the letters that you write. Kloppman helps me with all of them.
Medda misses you, even Spot asked me how you were doing the other day. You should write some to him.
I am a little jealous of the fact that you got to live your traveling dream. I hope you're being safe, write back soon.
Love Jack.

Jack
Please tell everyone that I say hi. And give them a hug for me. I get very homesick sometimes. I miss roaming the streets of New York. Although I've gotten familiar with Plymouth, it's not the same.
I miss you deeply. Maybe one day I'll come back. Or you can come here. I'm sorry you never got to live out your dream of Santa Fe, but I hope staying was the right decision.
With love, y/n.

I never got a reply after that. I sent letter after letter to Jack, and I got radio silence. I started to get worried. Weeks went by, then months, then 3 months, and I started to panic. I resigned from my job, put in my 2 week's worth, traded in what little money I had for American currency and snuck onto a boat.
I clutched Jacks letter in my hands and read it over and over again. Why had he stopped writing? Had he forgotten about me already? Moved on? Maybe he actually went to Santa Fe and I was going back to New York for nothing.

No, not for nothing. Something was calling me back. I needed to go back to New York, Back to Manhattan. My home. I took something out of my bag that I hadn't worn in a long time. My hat. I slipped it onto my head and smiled to myself.

It was time to become a newsie once more.

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