When Sarah Jacobs had gotten her very first poetry book, she thought that was love. She surrounded herself with Walt Whitman, Edgar Allen Poe and Emily Dickinson. She was one of the only literate girls at the shop, where she worked. Sometimes her parents would catch her on the fire escape, the candle blown out, where she had fallen asleep to stay up reading. This went on for most of her life, until a year ago when a certain young boy had came to supper.

Now she was sitting next to that same boy, teaching him and her youngest brother how to read. Dizzy with memories from previous nights, she ran her finger over the words, helping Les pronounce them. Jack Kelly sat with his arm around her chair, anxious for his turn.

Les began with the first lines of Dickinson's The Sky Is Low: "The sky is low, the clouds are mean, a travelling flake of snow across a barn or through a rut, debates if it will go." The little boy smiled. He had forgotten to read since the strike.

Jack's stomach turned when she flipped through a few pages and passed the book to him. He was embarrassed by his illiteracy, and especially in front of Sarah. He didn't like the feeling of stupidity. All through the long poem she had selected, he tripped over the words and stumbled over his own tongue. She tried to keep a straight face. For him, it was awful.

"Put those things away and get ready for supper." Esther quipped at them. Her daughter went and put the books back in the bedroom, scowling.

Jack watched her walk back in forth, cleaning up the place. He always wondered where she got her grace from. When Jack was hawking headlines, he was the 'great strike leader of 1899'. But when he was in her presence, he wasn't worthy of anything. He never thought he would get a girl like Sarah. She was beautiful, he thought to himself, even if she did look upset.

David was the one to bring Jack back from his thoughts. The second eldest of the Jacobs children had just came home from the loading dock, where he and Jack shared the same profession. He never came home late. Never missed a meal or came up short on his income. He was getting a little taller, but since the strike he had not changed.

David hugged his friend and pulled up a chair, for they had not seen each other in quite some time. As Jack stood up to seat Sarah, he asked, "So, still saving up for Santa Fe?"

"Nah. All I need's right here." Jack lied. Really it was only half-true, but lies were always better than letting parents know.

Mr. Jacobs pulled in his seat, asking the boys how the headlines where. It was an awkward supper from then on. Sarah nervously turned her soup over in her spoon. For the past month she had been lying and anxious. Sometimes she even felt sick. She assured herself it was just nerves, and that it was worth it.

"Haven't seen you in about two months, Mr. Kelly. Where have you been? Usually it's only a week between visits, at the longest." inquired Esther.

Cowboy swallowed hard. "I've just been carrying the banner, ma'am. I ain't been here 'cause of bad headlines. Plus old man Pulitzer's been hosting some events for us newsies at the theatre."

Sarah glanced at David across the table. He was squinting, something he did when he was nervous. He could tell something was up. Nobody just disappeared for a month and came back blaming it on work. Especially Cowboy, and his sister.

"I don't think I've seen you either." The boy said, smirking. Jack kicked him under the table and took Sarah's hand, comforting her.

No one talked for the rest of the meal, with the exception of Les who was boasting about how he had won against Racetrack Higgins in a game of poker earlier that day. He was only ten years of age, but he could also feel the intensity. David, Sarah, and Jack exchanged looks throughout it all. Never had the table been so silent.

Esther declared the meal was over and quickly took the plates to the counter. Sarah, overwhelmed with nerves and fatigue, went to her bed. Jack followed her, and Les followed Jack.

She might've cried if Jack hadn't come to her. He took her from behind, brushing her hair back. Neither of them noticed the ten-year-old at the door.

"What's the matter?" Jack said in her ear, almost demanding. "You upset 'cause I can't read?"

In truth, she was, but only just. She freed herself and went to the window. "I've never lied to them before."

"It ain't lying, just-"

"Improving the truth a little. I know. You wouldn't understand. Everybody thinks I'm an innocent little girl when I'm not." She watched as he pulled up a chair next to her. "They're my family."

"I'm sorry I ain't sayin' the right things…but it's going to be worth it. We can raise up some more money and buy the World, like I promised."

"Now you're just being silly." She turned around and reaching for her comb, she whispered, "I think at least David deserves to know."

"No, he don't. He don't get this." Jack felt terrible saying that, and he took her hand. "Just hang in there. They'll forget about it soon enough."

Whatever Jack had done to his sister, Les wanted to know. He told David about what he heard, and in the morning they were going to find out. They worried about their sister. And they wondered if the other newsies knew what had happened. Whatever it was, they were going to find out.

Neither of them slept well that night.