"Huh?" she muttered groggily, rolling over and burying her face in the thin pillow. "Go away."

"Time for work," Race said, poking Madeline in the side with his foot.

She sat up faster that Race had ever seen someone sit up, especially early in the morning. "You mean I...I have to go out there?" she asked fearfully, pointing toward the window.

"Yep," he answered. "Why, is there somebody out there you're hiding from?"

"No! Of course not!" she sputtered indignantly.

Race looked at her a moment, a smile playing on his lips. "You an awful liar. Have I told ya that?"

A tear rolled down Madeline's cheek. "Yes, I am running from someone."

Genuinely concerned, Racetrack sat down beside her. "Who is it? I might be able to help ya...or somethin' like that."

Madeline hesitated for a moment, and then sighed. "He goes by the name of Jim Gaines. He's trying to kill me, and several of his buddies roam the streets. If they see me..." she trailed off. "The first day you brought me here, I looked out the window...Jim's pal Nate was standing down there on the street, looking up. I...I could swear he saw me."

"Gaines, huh? What's he after you for?"

"I...he...Racetrack, I...I can't."

It was then that Racetrack noticed she was trembling with fear. He reached out and touched her arm. "It's okay, Maddie. You don't have to tell me, I ain't makin' you."

She nodded, avoiding eye contact with the young Italian. He continued, "And...and if ya don't wanna go out, you don't have to. I ain't makin' ya do that, either."

Madeline almost cracked a smile. "And you're supposed to be my kidnapper."

"Eh," Race grinned, "whatever you say, prisoner." He stood up. "Well, I'm off to hawk headlines...at the tracks..."

"Gambling is an awful habit," Madeline chided, staring Racetrack down.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned them inside-out. Raising his hands innocently, he grinned. "How can I gamble if I ain't got no money?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way," Madeline muttered, trying to conceal the smile that crept to her lips.

"See ya later, Maddie," Race smiled, turning and heading downstairs.

"Bye Race," she whispered, smiling. Suddenly, Madeline was exhausted, and she lay back down, pulling her thin blanket up to her chin and closing her eyes. Soon, sleep overcame her and she was catapulted into the world of a nightmare...

Madeline sat at the kitchen table, having a rather pleasant conversation with her mother, who was cooking dinner. "Madeline? Could you please go get your father and tell him that supper's on?"

"Yes, ma'am," she obeyed, standing and exiting the kitchen and heading toward the main room of the apartment, where her father usually could be found reading the day's newspaper. However, the living room was empty, and the only other place her father would be was in his study, and Madeline was not allowed into Tom's study under any circumstances.

However, Madeline reasoned, "What could possibly be so bad that I can't go tell him that supper's ready?" And so, she headed toward the study. Muffled voices could be heard from inside.

"Yeah, Tom's gone to get the direction's to th' bank in Jersey City that Nate's gonna hit next," Jim said.

Madeline pressed her ear to the door. Tom had obviously exited through the fire escape, which was right outside his study window. She listened hard, and for a moment all the boys talked about was poker and drinking and the like - most of which Madeline could have done without hearing.

"Ain't Tom gettin' something else, too?" Nate asked.

Toby spoke up. "Yeh, he's gettin' Jim's next hit lined up. Eh, Jim?"

"Yeh, that's right, Tob," Jim answered. "I got me a rich ol' coot t' hit this time 'round. Tom says I can keep forty percent of the goods, too."

Madeline bit her lip. Her father was involved in organized crime?

The guys "oohed" and "aahed" at this rare blessing. It was usually that the hitmen got thirty percent, but Jim was accomplished. Sam, another young man, asked, "What weapon ya got this time, Jim?"

"Eh, knife. Gun's too loud, might attract attention," he answered.

Madeline bit down on her lip so hard it began to bleed, but a cry of fear and anguish escaped her lips. Before she could get away from the door, it jerked open and slammed against the wall. Jim stuck his head out, spotting Madeline. "Well, well, we got us a little eavesdropper, here, boys..."

Frightened, Madeline made a run for the apartment door, jerked it open, and raced down the stairs as fast as she could in her stiff boots. Jim followed her angrily, finally catching up to her in an alley and holding his knife to her throat. It was then that Racetrack found her. He barrelled into Jim, knocking him down, and Madeline collapsed.

Awakening in a cold sweat, Madeline sat up quickly, looking around. After a moment, her heart stopped racing and she lay back down, tears rolling down her cheeks. She buried her face in the thin pillow and cried herself back to sleep. This time, her sleep was peaceful.