While Jack was panicking, Katherine's maternal instincts had kicked in.

She rolled up the sleeves of her party dress and filled the bathroom sink with cool water. (Kat's beloved claw foot tub was so large Jack said he'd teach Daisy to swim in it.) Jack leaned against the door frame, staring, as Kat gently ran a washcloth over Daisy's flushed face, her round belly, her tiny toes. She stopped screaming.

"Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it, honey?" Kat said softly. Daisy splashed.

Katherine hummed as she dressed Daisy in her favorite pajamas. The front door opened and shut as their friends snuck out.

Daisy patted Kat's chest, leaving tiny wet handprints. With her daughter balanced on one arm, Katherine reached to undo the shiny black buttons that ran down her spine.

"'Ere." Jack took a step forward. "This I can do." The red fabric was soft between his fingers.

Kat squirmed. "For the love of all that is good, whydid I wear a corset?"

.

Daisy rested her head on her mother's shoulder, half-heartedly sucking her thumb while Kat scratched her back. The oil lamp on the dresser wrapped them both in a soft, flickering yellow light.

"You should go to bed, Jack," Katherine said. She'd kept the rocking chair moving steadily for almost an hour. "No reason for all of us to be up all night."

He was perched on the foot stool a couple feet away. "I ain't tired." He said. He put his elbows on his knees.

"Daisy is."

"D'ya need anything?" Jack asked for the dozenth time. Kat shook her head.

The baby whined in Kat's ear. "Shhh. I know, darlin'. You just can't get comfortable long enough to stay asleep, can ya?"

"Poor gal." Jack said. Daisy sneezed; Kat wiped her nose with the edge of her blanket.

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! The clock struck midnight. Jack stifled a yawn into his fist. "Happy New Year."

"Yippee." Kat said flatly.

Fireworks exploded throughout the city—Twelve or fifteen rapid bursts rang out in celebration. Daisy lifted her head and looked around for the source of the noise, but didn't cry. Jack looked into the empty crib, like staring at Daisy's bed would make her fall asleep. They all sat for a few minutes, suspended in a silvery stillness.

"I wonder if a drop of that cough syrup would help." Kat said. "It'd knock her out, at least."

"I'll get it." Jack jumped up. He rummaged around in the bathroom cabinets until he found the small glass bottle. A newsboy would spend a whole day's pay, maybe two, on Kat's favorite remedy.

Katherine used a dropper to draw up a tiny bit of the amber syrup. "Daisy. Open your mouth, love." She cooed. "It's sweet—you'll probably like it." Daisy took it like a baby bird. "Good girl. Good girl." Kat rubbed her back. "Bet that'll help."

"It's saved a newsie life or two fa sure." Jack said.

Something finally put Daisy to sleep, whether it was the medicine, or the incessant rocking, or sheer exhaustion. Kat cautiously stood up and laid her in the crib. Daisy stuck her thumb in her mouth, but didn't awaken.

Katherine and Jack tiptoed out and shut the door. Jack sighed heavily and Kat disappeared to wriggle out of her dress. He followed her into their dark bedroom and flopped onto the bed.

"Change clothes, Jack."

"Don't wanna move." he mumbled. Kat threw a shirt at him. "Thanks." He sat up slowly and pulled on his pajamas.

Katherine crawled into bed and Jack wrapped his arms around her. "You're amazing, Ace." Kat drew small circles across his chest with her finger. "How'd you know what to do?"

"Intuition, I guess. She's liable to be up again soon. Might call a doctor tomorrow if she's not better." She yawned. "When I was a younger, I always thought house calls were so special."

"Yeah." Jack said. He didn't think he'd been to the doctor in his life, let alone a house call.

"When I was sick when I was little, my nanny would bring me tea and make me stay in bed all day, so I'd let down all the sides of my canopy bed and hoard all my sister's paper dolls."

Jack smiled a crooked half smile. "Ma told stories." He remembered his mother's cool, soft hands on his face and the old Irish legends that wrapped around him like a quilt. "God, my sisters and me was always sick. Cause the pipes leaked, ya know."

Kat nodded. "You've said. That's horrible."

He closed his eyes and saw the narrow, musty apartment. It wasn't horrible. It was their home for the first eight years of his life; he didn't know any different.

His earliest memories remained vivid and haunting. Sometimes, he was still five years old, half asleep, puzzling over his baby sister's ashen face and his parents' tears.

Jack used to wonder when he'd stop thinking about Molly, or about that long, drizzly winter when the Russian Flu swept through their apartment complex. When he'd stop seeing himself, seven years old, standing on shaking legs watching the hearse disappear up the street. When he'd stop yearning for his mother and Ciara. That day hadn't come yet.

And he still thought about his father, who sometimes carried himself like an old man at only 33.

He still thought about rows of bunk beds full of coughing, thirsty newsboys every winter, without enough food or medicine to go around.

He remembered nine-year-old Crutchie the day they met, slumped in a stinking alley with his black eye and twisted foot and dirty clothes. He remembered Crutchie returning from the Refuge after the strike, tired and bruised.

Kat remembered expensive medicines on silver trays and cozy tea parties with a nanny.

"You don't get it, Ace." he muttered. "It ain't fair."

"No, it isn't."

They both knew the hardest memories live in the deepest parts of the brain. Fear and fatigue unlocked the maze and brought them center stage.

"Daisy's sleeping good." Kat whispered. "We'll check on her again in a little bit, yeah?"

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Daisy was here. Kat was here, rubbing his arm. "Yeah." he said. "Yeah." He was so tired. Fireworks still shot off in the distance, and the grandfather clock struck one.

"We're all okay, Jack. Promise." Katherine buried deeper into the crook of his arm and fell asleep.

.

Jack always woke up at dawn to draw. As the sun rose on New Year's Day, he hopped up and went to Daisy's room.

She was awake, talking to herself, and beamed when she saw Jack.

"'Ey, a mhuirnin," He said. "Ya feelin' better?" He scooped her up, heavy and sleepy in his arms, and kissed her head. Cool as a cucumber. All the tightness in his body melted and he smiled back at her.

I only know how to write sadness, sorry. I love giving Katherine the chance to nurture both Daisy and Jack. Thanks for reading and reviewing! ~Em