Winnie strolled down the streets of New York City, watching street vendors and looking in shop windows intently. Her suitcase handle dug into the palm of her hand, but she ignored it, talking in the sight of the city.

It was a warm summer day, with a light breeze that almost made one forget about the trash by the side of the rode. Almost. New York was much more interesting than Treegap, and Winnie Foster was glad that she had the opportunity to visit. As she walked, she looked up and down the streets, eyes trailing the edges of the large buildings. They were much taller than any tree she had ever climbed, and a thrum of excitement overtook her. New York! The mythic location where entrepreneurs went to make their millions.

"Cure-All medicine discovered! It'll make one ageless!" A newsboy from across the street yelled while waiving a newspaper over his head. The headline sparked a memory in the back of Winnie's mind, one that she hadn't thought about in nearly six years.

The man in the yellow suit leaned towards Nana, analyzing her with his watchful eyes."Your sister over here seems to be-"

"Ageless!" Nana interrupted in a scornful tone of voice.

The very thought of a man in a yellow suit made her shiver. Winnie could still remember the wretched color and the way the man wore an old bowler hat, one that was slightly tattered. He had seemed so nice to her at first, and, if it hadn't been for him, she definitely would have drunk the water. Today. It was August fourth, exactly six years and three days since she made the promise to Jesse. Winnie clutched the small vial of water in the pocket of her dress- the only connection to the Tucks she still had.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Winnie trotted over to the newsboy. He seemed to be about a year younger than her, with curly blonde hair and a slingshot tucked in his pants. She dug for a few coins and held it out to him.

"I'll take one paper, please.".

"Sure thing, missus." The newsboy handed her the paper in his hand while she gave him the coin. Winnie noticed how the tips of his fingers were a darker color, no doubt from the ink of the newspaper. He caught her eye and grinned cheekily. "What's a fine girl like you doing here?"

She blinked. Boys had never flirted with her openly, and the only one to do so was Hugo. Straightening her posture, she looked him in the eye and stated, "I- I'm just visiting my cousin." Winnie gestured to the worn suitcase in her hand.

"So you're not from around here?" He asked, and eyebrow raised. His newsboy bag hung at his side, only filled with a few papers.

"Yes. I'm visiting from-" She was cut off by a yell from across the street.

"Finch! We've gotta go meet the others at Jacobi's soon! If you're not done in fifteen minutes I'm gonna leave you."

"New Hampshire." The words died in the back of her throat.

The boy, Finch, rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. He shouldered his bag, turned to Winnie, apologetically. "Well, that's my call. Nice talkin' to you. See ya' 'round, Red." He turned to leave, but Winnie grabbed his arm. Finch looked down at her hand with a raised eyebrow. After a few moments, he said, "Ya' gonna let go, or. . ."

"Sorry," She let go of his arm. "Can you point me in the direction of the Pulitzer mansion? I-" Her voice trailed off at the smug grin that covered his face. The dirt on his cheeks somehow made his eyes look brighter.

"Why do youse wanna known?"

"Oh- Well, I-" She stuttered, already regretting asking in the first place.

Finch waved his hand on the air dismissively and let out a light laugh.

"Nah, I'm just kiddin' it's over by East 55th street. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." Realizing she was still holding her paper, Winnie tucked it under her arm, and, while she walked away, giving Finch a small wave. He simply grinned then sprinted off to where the other boy had yelled only a few minutes before.

▫◽▫

Winnie's jaw dropped when she saw the mansion. It was much larger than the house she had grown up in, with three stories and many windows lining each story. Looking down at her simple blue dress, Winnie felt extremely underdressed. She had brought simple clothes, ones that would no doubt stand out against the others'.

Approaching the doorway, she turned back to look at the streets. This house looked so magnificent compared to the tenants she had passed by earlier. It was clean, with pristine sidewalks and a shining door knocker. Hesitantly, she reached out and knocked three times, trying to ignore her shaking hand.

The door opened, revealing a face she hadn't seen in years. Warm brown eyes with matching hair. A nice smile, one full of mischief and sass.

"Hey Winnie!" I was wondering when you'd be here." Katherine said in all of her glory. "Here. Let me take your suitcase."

"Oh, thanks." The two girls headed upstairs, and Winnie was blown away by the organized look of the place. They decided to go to Katherine's room, since it was across from where Winnie was staying.

"So," Katherine beamed from where she was sitting, across from Winnie on her bed. It was neat, but not perfect, which seemed to reflect Katherine's personality well. "How is it in New York?"

"It's. . . Overwhelming to say the least." The constant noise of factories, workers, and city dwellers had given her a headache from the moment she had stepped off the train. New York seemed too bright, too smelly, and too loud for Winnie's liking. But, she supposed, it would take some getting used to. "So, is there anything interesting to do around here? Treegap is awfully boring, and Manhattan seems so much better."

Katherine paused to think, fiddling with pink her skirt idily. "Well, I hang out with my friends at Jacobi's-- it's a deli-- and I was planning on meeting them later today. How about we go over their so you can say hi?"

"Oh, I don't know," She said, looking down. "I don't want to intrude or anything. . ."

"Nonsense. They'll love you," Katherine insisted, though Winnie was still hesitant.

Wanting a distraction, she looked around the walls of Katherine's bedroom. It wasn't small, but it wasn't exactly big, either. An open window with pale pink satin curtains let most of the light in, a pleasant patch of light shone on the floor. Nearby, there was a large desk with a new typewriter, although the aesthetic was ruined by a multitude of crumpled papers.

Countless newspaper articles adorned the walls, most of them held up by tacks and pins. Although there were many of them, to large articles stood out to Winnie, for they were in the center of it all. The first one had a large picture on it, with a gaggle boys standing together, most of them grinning from what she could tell from across the room. The other one had a large headline entitled The Children's Crusade. Not much else was discernible. "What's that?"

Katherine paused, before realizing what Winnie was referring to. "Oh, I wrote those a week ago. That one," She pointed to the one with the picture. "Was for the newspaper. It was an article about the newsboy strike. The other one was the rights of the children of the city. I got in trouble with my father for writing both of them, but it was worth it."

"You wrote in the paper? You must be famous!" Winnie said, tracing her hands against the smooth edges of the paper. She had never known or heard of a girl reporter, and she was absolutely amazed that Katherine, her cousin, had done it.

"Well, I'm not that well known," Katherine replied, blushing. "It was two small articles."

"Are you kidding? This is amazing! The coolest thing I've done was go to the carnival and meet Jesse when I was eleven." She stopped herself before she started to talk about the Tucks and her mini adventure in the woods that year.

"Who's Jesse?"

"He was. . . A friend. We would climb trees together."

"We climbed a tree! I saw the top of my house- it was great!" Mae and Miles shared a look.

"She followed me here," Jesse admitted meekly. "Can we keep her?"

"Just a friend?"

"Katherine! I was eleven," Winnie said, throwing a soft couch pillow at her. It landed right on target, and Katherine let out a sight 'oof' as it made contact with her chest.

Instead of telling her off like she thought she would, Katherine laughed. Throwing the pillow back to where it belonged, she threw an arm around her. "With an attitude like that, I'm gonna have to introduce you to the boys!"

"I don't get any say in this, do I?" Winnie sighed, although she was a bit excited.

"Nope!" She said cheerfully, grabbing Winnie's wrist and leading her to the door. "C'mon. It'll be great." She was halfway out the door when she stopped. "Give me a quick sec." Katherine crossed the room in three long strides and pocketed a pad off paper and a pencil. "You never know when you'll need these," She stated simply.

"Right," Winnie said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Let's go?"

"Yep!"

▫◽▫

As Winnie approached the deli, a nervous feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. What if Katherine's friends didn't like her? What if she couldn't get along with her? What if- The pleasant chime of a bell sounded when as door opened, breaking her away from her thoughts. Well, whatever was to come, it was too late to turn back now.

"Kath!" Someone called out. Katherine waved and made her way over to one of the tables, Winnie following along like a stray dog.

"Winnie, this is Jack Kelly. Jack, meet my cousin, Winnie," She gestured to the dark haired boy. He had paint on his vest. "He's the one that started the strike a few days back."

Winnie waved lightly. "Hello." She glanced around him, watching the other boys as they played cards, talked, and laughed together. Snippets of conversation floated over.

"-That's a full house. I win!"

"That ain't fair! You musta cheated-"

"-and that, gents, is how I sold a paper for a quarter!"

"Ha! You owe me a nickel. Pay up, sucker."

"C'mon. I'll introduce you to the others," Katherine stated, pulling Winnie away from Jack. For the next few minutes, she introduced Winnie to to the many other boys, who had odd names such as Kid Blink, Mush, Hot Shot, and Buttons. Winnie wondered how her cousin knew all of their names, for their was so many, and they all looked the same to her. Same cap, same vests, same bedraggled newbag at their sides.

Before she knew it, she was sitting at a table with three of them, whom she couldn't remember the names of for the life of her. So far, they had exchanged only a few words, none of which were important to knowing each other better. The boys were playing cards- poker, most likely-thought they weren't betting.

"I say she needs a nickname," The one with the cigar said, dealing out a new set of cards with one hand. Winnie looked up at him, not expecting to be addressed. "What do ya think, Al?"

Al (who she suddenly remembered was called Albert by the others) leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. Looking her up and down, he finally said, "I think Red would suit her good."

"You can't re-use nicknames, Albert," The one with brown hair stated bluntly.

"Who says so? Consider it recycling."

"Winnie, you good with the nickname?" The boy with the cigar glanced at her, bright blue eyes sparkling.

"Red? Because of my hair?" She asked, making a face. That was probably one of the most uncreative names ever, and she didn't know how she felt about it. It seemed weird to be known for just her hair color, and nothing more.

"Well, yah. What else?" He said. "It-" They all looked up at the door as the bell chimed once more. Unfortunately, Winnie's vision was obscured by someone's head. Not wanting to stand up and disturb the atmosphere, she focused on listening to the newcomer's voice, thought it was hard to hear with the constant chatter around her. From what she could tell, at least two other people had arrived.

"Hey, Jack," One of the new boys said, voice warm. Winnie looked up, caught off guard. It couldn't be- could it?

"Think of me every time you climb a tree. . . or get into trouble."

"Well, that'll be everyday then." He gave her one of his signature grins. The one that was brimming with mischief and carelessness and now. . . sadness.

Winnie froze. All around her, the boys were still bantering and arguing, but she couldn't hear them over the pounding of her heart. This was- this was impossible. This was crazy. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to get away from Treegap, supposed to forget about what happened six years ago.

And yet here she was. Here he was. Her hand went to her mouth, and, before she could process what she was doing, she was standing up. She didn't even hear the chair's legs scratch on the old wood floor.

"Jesse?" She whispered.