Raindrop sat on her bunk leaning against the wall. She was physically and emotionally drained. Thomas, Brooklyn's equivalent of Kloppman, had just gone downstairs. He had looked at the back of her head and said it ought to be alright if she put some ice on it, and bandage where it had bled. And to inform him if she had problems with her vision or blacked out. Spot returned with some ice and handed it to her. Then he joined her on the bunk.

"Hey, you'se awright?" he asked softly. Raindrop looked at him sadly.

"Yeah, I t'ink so." Spot tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Ya wanna tawk 'bout it?" Raindrop shook her head.

"Naw. I'll be awright. I don' wanna t'ink about it right now. Or ever." Spot frowned.

"Ya know, ya kain't jist act like it nevah 'appened. I know it hoits, but ya jist have ta deal wit it." Raindrop turned her face away.

"I'm fine, awright?" Spot looked at her for a long time.

"I hope yer right," he asked quietly. He hugged her lightly and kissed her on the cheek. "C'mon, it's gittin' dark. Ya need all da sleep you'se kin get." Raindrop started object, but Spot stopped her. "Don' worry. I'll jist be in da next room. If ya wanna tawk, come 'n' get me anytime." Raindrop nodded reluctantly and slid under the covers. Spot walked out of the room, deep in thought.

How kin she jist refuse ta tawk 'bout dis? She ain't evah gonna be awright 'tll she deals wit dis. But den, she nevah tawked 'bout 'er bruddah 'r parents, an' aftah awhile she seemed awright. Jist ain't noimal, dough·

The next morning Spot woke up early. He got dressed and woke Raindrop up.

"Hey, hey, c'mon. Ya gotta git up·you'se kin sell in Brooklyn dis mornin', but we's gotta git back ta Manhattan. An' ya pro'ly oughta go tell yer sistah what 'appened." Raindrop nodded sleepily and rolled out of bed. She went to the washroom and came out looking a lot better than she had when she had gone in.

"Pro'ly oughta go see Bev b'fore she gits ta woik," Raindrop commented. Spot nodded.

"Yer right. C'mon, let's go." They walked out of the silent Lodging House and walked to Manhattan. They knocked on Beverly's door, and she answered.

"Lissy? What are you doing here?" She frowned, and welcomed them in. They sat down in her living room. "Is something wrong?" Beverly asked, "What's going on? And who's this?" Raindrop shook her head and her eyes filled with tears. She buried her face in Beverly's arms and cried. Beverly looked at Spot in shock? "What's going on?!" she asked again. Spot sighed and cleared his throat.

"Well, it's like dis, ma'ame. I'se Spot Conlon. Raindrop was staying in Brooklyn wit me fer awhile not long ago. Since den she's sorta become me goil. Well last night I fergot me cap at Tibby's, dis resteraunt. She followed me ta bring it back ta me, an' dat bruddah o' 'ers, Jonathon, grabbed 'er, an' was gonna kill 'er, but me, an' coupla me boys hoid 'er an' came back. Jonathon was killed. She's awful upset an' all·" he trailed off. Beverly closed her eyes and bit her lip. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She nodded firmly.

"Very well. Lissa will stay here until she feels comfortable to return to the newsies. She can have all the visitors she likes, as long as they don't upset her." Spot objected instantly.

"Ma'ame, her place ain't wit you'se. 'er fam'ly's wit da newsies now." Beverly tried to stare him down. At last she turned away.

"I know that. But Lissa needs someone now. I've lost everyone else I loved, can't you leave me some comfort, even for a while?" Spot looked at her without expression for a long time. At last he stood up and put his hat on. He touched Raindrop's arm and she stood.

"She's coming with me," he said quietly, and firmly. He walked to the door, leaned over to hold her hand, and left. Beverly didn't move from her seat. She sat silently, shaking her head.

"It's not right. A young girl does not live with roguish street trash," she said, once the two had left. "But if she wants to throw her life and reputation away, so be it."

As they walked down the street Spot wrapped his arms around Raindrop, and she leaned on him. Soon they neared the Lodging House.

"Raindrop, why don' ya go ahead an' meet up wit yer friends, awright? I gotta tawk ta Jack fer a minute an' den git back ta Brooklyn," he said. "I'll tawk to ya in a few days. 'less ya'd raddah he me stay wit ya fer awhile longah·?" he trailed off. Raindrop smiled suddenly.

"After lunch. We kin sell heah an' den have lunch in Central Pawk, 'r sumptin'." Spot grinned.

"Dat sounds wondahful." They walked down the street together to the Distribution Office. Just before they joined the large group of newsies buying and waiting to buy their papes Raindrop stopped Spot.

"Don' say anytin' ta da boys, awright? I don' wan' no one feelin' sawry fer me - an' dat includes you'se." Spot lifted an eyebrow at her.

"An' who is you'se, givin' ordahs ta Spot Conlon 'imself?" Raindrop laughed and shook her head.

"Der jist ain't no end ta dat ego ah yers," she said as she slipped her hand into his.

They bought and sold their papes in a few hours. Then they went to Central Park and ate pretzels as they walked around, laughing and joking. At last Spot stopped.

"Hey, it's gittin' late. I gotta be gittin' back ta Brooklyn," he said. Raindrop nodded.

"I know. I guess I'll tawk ta ya latah den·" Spot smiled crookedly.

"What's dis? Yet anuddah goil fallen desperately in love wit da one an' only Spot Conlon?" Raindrop laughed.

"One's enough!" Spot grinned and pulled her closer. They hugged tightly, and Raindrop looked up at him.

"I'll miss ya." Spot silently looked at her for a moment, and then kissed her roughly. He spun around and walked off. Before he had gone ten yards he looked back and smiled.

"I love ya too, Lissa Allen!" he yelled. Raindrop stood watching him with a smile as he left.