"And remember he takes a nap at noon, and will wake up after about three hours. He usually likes to have a snack and h—"

"Katherine," Kate Pulitzer said, taking Noah out of his mother's arms, "I raised seven kids. I know how this works. Besides, Noah is such a sweet boy, I'm sure he'll be perfectly fine while you're gone."

Katherine let out a sharp exhale. "Are you sure? Do you think I packed enough for him?"

"Katherine," Kate said sternly. "It'll be fine. Worst case scenario, I'll just have him borrow something of Herbert's." Kate glanced up at Katherine, sensing the worry behind the young mother's expression. Kate sighed, placing Noah on her hip and facing Katherine. "It'll be fine. You're a resourceful young woman. You'll know what to do once you get there."

Katherine rubbed her forehead with her palm. "The question I've been asking myself for a while now is if I should tell him about Noah." She then sighed, dropping her hand. "I still don't know if I'll be brave enough to actually go and talk to him when the time comes."

"If you don't, so be it," Kate said. "You've made many life-changing decisions in your life. I don't think this one will change your life forever. Whether you see him or not, he'll still be behind bars and he'll still have twenty-two years left to sit in there."

Katherine couldn't muster up a response, so she simply knelt down and took ahold of her bag. "I should go. Crutchie and Davey will be waiting." She looked at Noah, who was playing with Kate's necklace. "I won't be gone long, kiddo. Be good to your grandmother."

Noah, who was so invested, didn't seem to notice Katherine speaking, causing his mother to chuckle and lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. The toddler grimaced and rubbed his cheek as if to get rid of the kiss.

Then, Katherine said farewell to her mother, exiting the Pulitzer townhouse to her next destination: the train station.

<><><>

"Keep it moving, son," the Refuge worker said sternly to the boy. The kid was somewhere in his preteens and had obviously had a rough life. He was scrawny, and it seemed as if every inch of his skin was covered in silt and dust. His clothes were tattered, holes in his tunic and loose threads hanging off the fabrics' hems.

The worker opened a heavy metal door and shoved the boy in there, causing him to fall to his knees, "You best keep to the warden's rules, 'else you'll be in for quite some time."

With that, the worker slammed the heavy door, filling the room with an ear-wrenching sound. The boy rose to his feet, looking up at the door before turning to look at the room.

Dozens of pairs of eyes were looking over at him, and the boy didn't seem to know what to do.

"Welcome to paradise, bud," one boy said, slipping off of a top bunk and stepping towards him. He was around the same age as the newcomer, if not slightly older. He stuck out his hand, "The name's Ryan."

The boy seemed to hesitate, taking in his surroundings warily. Several boys who appeared to be in the same condition as him were sharing beds, with their eyes sunken in from exhaustion and malnutrition. The boy brought his eyes back to Ryan before taking his hand. "Jack."

"You got a firm grip, bud," Ryan said. "What you in for?"

"Somethin' like vagrancy and loiterin'," Jack answered, "whatever that's s'posed to mean."

"You're an unlucky kid," Ryan replied. "They's fancy ways of sayin' 'bein' homeless.'" There was silence for a moment, before Ryan spoke up again. "C'mon. We'll find you a spot o' your own."

Jack followed the boy to a bottom bunk on the far side of the room. There was another boy there, but he seemed to be too lost in his own thoughts to notice their arrival. Jack was horrified at how sickly the boy looked.

"You can share this bunk with me and Thomas," Ryan told Jack. "We don't bite. But the bugs do."

"Great," Jack murmured, watching as Ryan slouched against the wall with a leg hanging off the edge of the mattress. Reluctantly, Jack took the spot next to Ryan.

"So," the older boy began, "how old're ya, kid?"

"Twelve," Jack answered.

"Hm," Ryan hummed in response. "You ain't too much younger than me. I'm fourteen."

Jack didn't know what to say in response, so he simply leaned against the rail at the edge of the mattress. Ryan looked over at the younger boy, who appeared to be shaken up by the conditions of The Refuge. He heaved a sigh, giving Jack a nudge with his elbow.

"Get some rest, kid."

~•~•~•~•~•~

it's been two years since i last updated this story ahhhh

i don't know if i should be ashamed of that or amused by how ironic that is

anyways i've had a few ideas for this story in that long hiatus, so i hope you guys are looking forward to seeing them play out just as much as i am!

again, i'm so sorry for the long gap between updates. i'm gonna try to be better now!

it's weird to think i started this story when i was 14 and now i'm 16 almost 17. that's just crazy :,)

anyways thanks for reading and stay safe and healthy!!