Katherine's POV: 

After hours of frustration and writer's block, the story was finally finished. She squealed in delight, eyes scanning the page over and over. She could hardly believe she'd actually written it! But she couldn't afford to celebrate for long, those boys were counting on her. That girl, Finch, had told her to meet her at Tibby's, but when she entered the restaurant no one was there. 

Well, there were customers but no newsies. She looked around, hoping to see a familiar face, and saw a boy, with his head in his hands, sitting in the corner.  

"Excuse me," he looked up startled, and quickly rubbed the tears out of his eyes. He'd been crying? "Oh, what's wrong?"  

He cleared his throat quickly. "Nothin'. Can I help youse?"  

Katherine wasn't convinced but he reminded her of why she was there in the first place, "I'm looking for Finch, she's a newsie-" 

"Yeah, I knows her." 

"Oh good. Well, I wrote the story and she told me to meet her here but....she isn't here." 

"What story?" 

"Of the newsies, their strike, and the refuge. She told me what really happened there," Katherine shuddered. "It's horrible, I can't believe my father-" She froze, realizing what she had said. 

"Your father?"  

"Mr. Pulitzer...." she said softly, "but I had no idea what he'd been doing! I became a reporter to help people whose stories aren't told and the newsies are one of them! Their rally didn't even make it to the papers and I want to change that." 

********* 

Jack's POV: 

Jack was shocked, her father was Pulitzer? That creepy-ass of a man had a daughter....a very pretty daughter- he shook his head quickly. He needed to focus. He couldn't judge her based on who her father was, and if Finch trusted her then that was enough for him. She'd written a story but if Finch's plan was going to work she needed someone to print it. Luckily, Jack happened to know a man with a printing press. 

"Hey, do youse know how to work a printing press?" he interrupted her rant about her father. 

"No, but I know someone who does. Why do you ask?"  

"I know a place wese can print your story."

*********

Spot's POV: 

I ran back to where I'd left Finch, but she wasn't there. Worry filled me, had the Delanceys found her? I picked up my pimp cane, it was still there along with a handkerchief with the initials B.D sewn into it. Who could this belong to? 

Mouth (Davey) examined it before sighing in relief, "Bryan Denton. Denton must've seen her, she's in good hands."   

"Who's Denton?" I asked, not convinced. 

"The reporter who wrote about our strike, don't worry we can trust him." Davey tried to reassure me as he tucked the handkerchief into his pocket.

"I'm not worried!" I snapped, but Davey gave me a small knowing smile. I knew he didn't believe me and I couldn't blame him, I hadn't sounded very convincing even to my own ears. I hated sounding so weak.

"He probably took Finch to a doctor or the lodge, but you're welcome to check. I'm going to see if Jack was telling the truth about that printing press." He started walking and I called after him. 

"Hey, Mouth!" He looked at me confused. "Watch your back." He nodded before hurrying off and I sent Stitches after him as backup. As much as I hated to admit it, Jack had been right, Davey had more than half a brain. He was smart and without him helping the strike, we didn't stand much of a chance.  

Tucking my cane into my belt loop, I headed off towards the lodge to check there first. 

A/N: hello dear reader, thank you for your patience once again with my slow updates (: they'll probably be once a month now? I'm not sure, but I haven't forgotten about this story don't worry. Until the next chapter!