Jack shouldered his papers and kept walking, fighting to close his mind to the guilt and dread he felt. It wasn�t his fault, he was doing the best he could, what did any of it matter anymore anyway?

�Well, I nevuh woulda believed it if I hadn�t seen it with me own eyes,� a voice remarked from nearby. �Cowboy�s turned scab.�

Jack looked up to see Flip shoving off the wall she�d been leaning against. He hadn�t seen her in quite a while, but that was always her way, popping up when you least expected it.

�What�s it to ya?� he snapped at her. She couldn�t have chosen a worse time to resurface in his life. Amy shrugged her slim shoulders and fell into step beside him.

�Ain�t nuthin to me, but it�s a whole helluva lot to dose newsies a� yours,� she replied. �Nice suit, by da way,� she added ironically.

�It ain�t none of yer business, Flip,� he muttered. He didn�t need to listen to someone else call him a traitor, didn�t need to have another person make him feel horrible for doing what was best for himself and everyone involved. No one understood.

�Yer right, it ain�t,� she agreed. �So, what�d dey t�reaten ya wit�? Jail? Locked up in da refuge �til youse 21? Lockin� everybody up �til dey�s all, 21?� she asked.

�Who says dey t�reatened me?� Jack demanded, looking at her for the first time. There was a nasty bruise on her cheekbone, and it only added to his anger to see it there.

�Dey had to, you would nevuh have taken no bribe,� she shrugged.

�Maybe I did,� Jack shot back, tiring of the conversation. Amy rolled her eyes.

�Shoah ya did, Cowboy,� she snorted, halting abruptly. She grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her. �Listen, Frankie, I knows you, I knows ya a lot bettuh den dose newsies a� yours do, and I know you wouldn�t �a done dis wit�out a good reason. Pulitzer got to ya somehow.�

Jack glared at the ground, refusing to meet her eyes, pretending he hadn�t heard her use his real name. �So what if I did sell �em out?� he demanded. �Dat�s what I did, dat�s what I had ta do. It don�t mattah no more anyway.�

�You ever thought about what its gonna be like in Santa Fe?� Amy asked abruptly. Jack looked up, startled. �I bet youse nevuh got past thinkin� about getting on a train. You might find it awful lonely out dere wit� no friends and no family wit� ya. Jus� somethin� ta t�ink about,� she said. �You started dis thing, its up ta you ta finish it, no mattah what Pulitzer tries ta tell ya,� she added as Jack glared at her.

�You talk too much, Flip,� he muttered, turning on his heel and walking away from her. There was an ironic laugh from behind him

�Dat�s what Spot said when da little joik t�rew me outta Brooklyn.�

******

Epilogue: Spring 1900

Jack crouched by the edge of the grave and stared at the wilted daisy that lay against the base of the cross. It looked terribly sad and lonesome there, that one measly flower, and for a moment, he wished he had brought something to put there too, roses maybe, or even daffodils, but then he realized how Amy would have scoffed at it. He could hear her voice in his head right now �What�re ya doin�, bringin� me flowers for, Cowboy? Whatta ya think I�s goin� be doin� with flowers? I always knew you didn�t have no brains!� Grief washed over him. He was no stranger to death; he�d lost his mother and his brother at a young age, but this was different somehow. It was so random and so senseless and so completely and utterly not fair. Amy hadn�t deserved this, no one deserved this. It was wrong and he couldn�t understand why it happened. Amy had been a lot of things, not all of them good, but most of all she�d been a person, trying to survive, like anyone, and this shouldn�t have happened to her. He remembered her last words to him, asking him to take care of her sister, Chloe. Poor Chloe, having lost the only family she had, Jack knew how that felt. He�d take care of her for Amy if it killed him. He owed Amy that much, for the things she�d done for him, for helping him when he needed it the most, for being his friend when he had no others. The debt he owed her was the person that he was.

A cool breeze wafted through the churchyard and Jack shook himself back to reality. Amy would have laughed at him if she�d seen him there, silently waxing sentimental, almost in tears over her. Stop snivelin� Cowboy, people die, dat�s da way life goes. Go sell some papes or soak some scabs, do sumthin useful.