I watched the honey-brown curls fall down in whisps to the dirt floor. The pride and joy of my younger years, and what I believed to be the only beautiful, feminine quality that I had. With my notably denser brows, taller build, and strict jawline, at least the sullen braid I would lay over my shoulder always stood out. Now it was torn to bits.

"That should do it!" Oliver announced proudly. "Now let's get a look-see, shall we?" He rustled his hand deep in a kitsack by his bed. A small shard of a mirror slid out of the fabric, only to be gently picked up and carried over to me.

"Normally this is just my spare weapon, but tell me what you think of it."

I had to gingerly turn the piece at several angles to get a fuller picture. My partline now swung to the right side of my head, with the front pieces tugged entirely to the left to form one, waved bang. The rest of my once waist-length strands were now tied back into a ponytail cut exactly to my shoulders.

At least he went no shorter. Though it was small, it felt nice that I could actually entrust him to something so important to myself.

"Do you like it? I daresay the boys will be jealous. This may be my best trim yet." He took hold of one of my shoulders, leaning his face in close, and I tried not to jump. He knows nothing of personal space, does he?

"Now, let's go and introduce you to the crew."

"We already did that. They seemed to be none too pleased with me," I reminded him. But, instead of listening, he simply burst his door open.

"Boys!" he bellowed. I winced at the sheer volume, but it worked to get every child's attention. "I want you to introduce you all to someone very special. This is Evan!"

They all looked at him in shock, myself included. Evan? It was practically worse than his calling me 'Eva'. If he was going to name me, the very least he could have done was ask my opinion on the matter.

"Great. First a girl, now her twin." The same critical boy from before slammed the front door behind him, stepping past boy after boy, until he could reach the table to upend his satchel's contents on its surface. He squinted at me, and I tried not to look away. "He at least looks like he could do some snitchin'." He shrugged, and tossed a loaf of bread from the table into my hands. Oliver looked at the bread in my hands, which I gratefully took a bite of, then glared at the boy.

"David," and I was surprised to see him flinch. "That wouldn't happen to be from the same bread cart as the last two times I sent you scouting, would it?" David nodded.

"You need to switch carts. You can't keep snitching from the same person again and again."

"What can I say? I like the taste of them, and the pickin's easy."

"What could you say? You could say sorry to me for breaking the rules, that's what. They're there for a reason. It's not fair to the man to be stolen from every day. You want him to end up poor too? You want him to go hungry? His children?" Oliver's fair face grew a strawberry pink in his frustration, his spatterings of freckles becoming more obvious.

David pulled his cap low over his round eyes. "No. I don't. Sorry Oliver."

"Don't apologize to me." Oliver sighed to himself, leaving to go back into his room once again. When he came back out, he placed a few coins in David's open palms. "This was supposed to be for buying you a new shirt. Now you go write 'Sorry' on a piece of paper, and go deliver that later. Understood?"

He nodded, and sulked off to the other corner of the room. I, having finished the bread, and at least able to understand David's affinity for its fresh taste, glanced at Oliver. For his only being about nineteen, he seemed so mature to care for all the children who lived here. That, and the fact he cared for someone he had never met to give away a few coins seemed so... out of place for a thief.

"Anyways, as I was going to say before, I'm going to be going on a bit of a... trip, with Evan here."

"A trip? Where?"

"Can I go?"

"Who's gonna watch us?"

Oliver held up his hands. "All great questions. The answers are, 'I don't know', 'No', and 'David and Finch', in that order."

"Who's Finch?" I asked, then I wondered if it was really my place to. "I'm sorry," I then followed it up with. "It's just that I hadn't seen him, and was hoping it wasn't one of the younger ones." The children before me seemed to range from the ages of six, to ten, and though I had always been an only child, I knew that they shouldn't be left alone.

"No it's fine. Finch is fifteen or sixteen, so they'll be fine. You only haven't seen him because he's usually out and about." Oliver answered with a stern look in his eyes. "Anyways, I've already packed, and don't expect me back soon, all right? I've left the key ring on my bed, and if you need anything, ask David, or Finch." With that, he began to make his way towards the front door, with myself not far behind.

"Wait for me!" I heard a high-pitched voice call, and I turned to see Sophie slowly limping towards us both as fast as she could.

"Oh Sophie. You can't come with us. It's much too dangerous," Oliver cooed to her.

"Oh I know. I just wanted to give you a hug."

Oliver laughed in response. "Then by all means, come here." She tried to hold him for a moment, when she pulled another small arm out, looking at me.

"You can have a hug too, Evan." I lowered myself down, and attempted to wrap my own arms around the two, but it felt strange to me. Perhaps this was what love felt like, and I was simply missing out on it. I pulled back, and Sophie followed, giving Oliver a small peck on the cheek, and whispering something in his ear, before finally saying her goodbyes, and limping back into the house.

I noticed Oliver rubbing his eyes quickly, before pushing himself up into standing, and starting to walk outside. I followed along quickly behind, when he stuffed a second suitcase in my hands.

"What is all this?" I asked him.

"It's your suitcase?" He seemed confused.

"So then why are you handing it to me then?"

"I'm sorry sir," Oliver enunciated, a smile playing on his lips. "But you'll have to carry your own things."

I huffed in annoyance, taking hold of the suitcase. "So what did she whisper to you," I asked, trying to make light conversation.

"Sophie?" He chuckled to himself. "She said Evan's not fooling her, but she still thinks he looks handsome. Don't worry though. Sophie just happens to be very perceptive. I don't think anyone else would be able to tell."

"Oh. I suppose that's good." I wasn't sure how to feel about being called 'handsome', but at least it was good to know that I wouldn't be caught. And indeed, those along the street didn't give me a second glance. Cart salesmen did not offer me anything for being a 'pretty lady'. It was as though I were unable to be seen. Colourful women swished in dresses before me, not offering me a second glance, and one man was kind enough to tip his top hat at me, which I dutifully returned with my own newsboy. I was so caught up in the whole, new experience, that it was even more shocking when I heard Oliver use his bellows once again to scream out a name:

"OI FINCH!"

I saw a dull-blond youth suddenly jump up from the fence he was leaning over, a golden necklace falling clean from his hand onto the pavement below. The girl in front of him quickly backed up and shuffled away, not even heeding his 'Wait'.

I heard a small grumble as we drew nearer to the lad. "This better be good Oliver."

"Oh come off it. I'm sure you'll find another one next week." Oliver rolled his eyes. "And for your knowledge, it is important, so listen close. Evan here and me are going to be taking a trip and you're in charge of the kids 'til I'm back, hear?"

"Evan?" Finch's low, nasally voice rumbled over the word. "How come I ain't heard of no Evan before?"

"Because he's new, that's why. Now stop asking questions and being a gal-sneaker. You and David are in charge and I don't want you out and about every spare minute you got. Don't know when I'll be back, but I'm leaving now, so I suggest you start heading home."

"Oh shut your sauce-box Oliver. Just cause you're set to be lonely forever doesn't mean I have to be," he muttered, the deep nasal in his butch voice resonating his frustration.

"You and your trips are gonna be the death of me Ginger," was his last remark before he walked off, and I didn't need to look at Oliver's face to tell that he was miffed. I could only guess that the two had a long history, but I decided not to ask for the moment.

"So then, now that that's over, where we headed to?" Oliver inquired. "Any place you know that would be easy to get a Goldheart from? Some place where we have a chance to maybe find a Silverheart, or at least not die right off the bat?"

I stopped to try and think for a moment. I hadn't thought much of where I was to get the pieces from. Being as I was already past the age of thirteen, my heart could no longer be supplemented with any gold piece on the market. In fact, the last time I had heard mention of a piece that would fit so clearly in my own, was when my father had let it slip during dinner conversation.

"You know, it's a shame that Henry ordered that Victoria's heart was to be left exactly as it was," I could recall him saying. "Her heat refractor would have fit perfectly in you, and that piece is so specific too..." At the time, I had hated the thought of a piece of Henry's horrid fiance in my heart, but now, it didn't seem so awful, if I had to kill her to keep myself alive. She would only be locked up in prison, with only basic security, and, if that is where criminals were to be kept, then perhaps... perhaps my father would be there too. It wasn't too far of a stretch.

"You know Oliver. I do believe I know of a place."