The Heartsmith's Daughter

Chapter 3

 We went no further than a few steps down the street together, when I sensed a small movement at my side. Glancing over, I saw the boy sneaking his hand into my satchel. Immediately I threw him off me, taking hold of my knife in the pocket I had concealed into my skirt long ago, much to Father's dismay.

"Ugh? What's all this?" He looked in dismay at the papers and random tidbits in the bag, too busy focusing on that to notice as I nervously crept up with the knife. "Really not a single useful-" He finally glanced up at me, inches away from his face.

"What? Wait! Don't use that! Here, I'll give it back. Nothing good in there anyway." He tossed it in front of him before raising up his hands.

"You ruffian. Really trying to cabbage me in broad daylight." I huffed in annoyance, crossing my arms. "Really, I ought to take you down to the authorities."

"Says the girl who just tried to murder me." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, you were running from something so I'm pretty sure we both don't want them involved. You let me leave, I let you leave, nobody tells the Mits and we're all good."

He was right. If I ran to get them, they could recognize me from earlier, and then my father's sending me off would have been in vain. Taking hold of the satchel, I started walking back to the main street. Perhaps I could find someone else who would actually try to help a young lady in need.

"Wait!" The boy called, although I'm not sure why I stopped to listen to him. "You actually do need help, don't you? Honestly, I almost feel bad if that's everything you own." He pointed to the bag. "With those clothes and no money, you're not that much better off than us. If you still want to..." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I guess I could take you to my hideout, if you don't murder me and my other 'ruffians'."

"It would be 'my other ruffians and I'," I corrected him.

"Ah come off it. You coming or what?" I truly didn't want to follow a thief into some off-color part of town filled with other, uneducated criminals, but he did have a point. I wasn't much better, and I still had my knife and chloroform. I could protect myself, should anything turn sour.

"Fine. I'll come with you."

"Great choice. Name's Oliver by the way." He took my hand with his own scrawny one and shook it like I was a man.

"... Evangeline."

"Alright then Eva, come with me." I hated that he had the nerve to shorten my name, as if it was too much of a bother to finish it. Just who did he think he was? And yet, I followed him down one grimy sidestreet to another, trying to keep up with his slick speed.

"Here we are. Home sweet home." Oliver gestured to what appeared to be a shack, knocked over from a storm, covered with a few brown tarps. "Trust me. It looks larger on the inside."

I ducked down to fit under the doorway, and was suddenly surrounded by at least ten children, dirty and raggedy. Oliver removed his brown tweed cap and patchy jacket before announcing, "Hello boys. I've brought us a guest tonight. Her name is Eva!"

"Evangeline."

"I don't care what her name is," a young boy, certainly no older than eleven, then pouted, crossing his arms. "Did you get us some food?"

"Um, no. Not exactly," Oliver looked away, which I found odd, as he had been so confident before.

"Great. So nothing to eat and another person to feed. And she's a girl." The boy marched up to me defiantly. "You better stay out of my room." And with that, him and a good number of the other boys left, leaving only one small girl with a stuffed rabbit behind. She limped towards Oliver, and it took me a moment to realize that she was missing an eye, just like her doll.