A/N: Okay I'm sorry it's been so long but things have just been so crazy lately! This is just a short chapter for you. It is actually going to be put up in two parts since I wanted to get something posted. Just a reminder that Rambler is the Manhattan leader and Sammy's brother, and Blades as his second in command, and Gambler is the Brooklyn leader. Okay so please read and let me know what you think!!

Disclaimer: No I do not own

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Flashback:

Sammy's Death one year ago: Blade's P.O.V:

Rambler stood completely still with a look on his face that made it seem like he didn't really comprehend the whole situation, but was trying to figure it out. Gambler stood to his left with tears streaming down his face, while Spot, who was kneeling over Sammy, tried to hang on to that last bit of hope that she would come back. Jack was behind him with a few other boys trying to pull him off and get him to calm down.

I didn't know what to do. I stood there completely frozen like my feet where glued to the ground. Looking around at everyone they all seemed like they where moving in slow motion. I wanted to do something. I don't know what just something; help someone, comfort someone, or just fall to my knees and cry.

I stood there watching as my whole world began to crumple down. Rambler, my leader, my best friend, was falling apart. Gambler, Spot, Jack, they where all breaking down, and that's when it hit. I realized I couldn't cry because I had to be the one person that stayed strong, the one person that everyone could count on to hold things together.

When Jack was finally able to calm Spot down, I rounded up the rest of the newsies and headed for the lodge. I made sure to get a few newsies, who weren't so close to her, to take care of the body. Walking into the lodge the silence was defining. I could hardly bare to be in the same room as them.

I sank back into the corner so that no one could see me, so that no one could hear me. I stayed there for what seemed like hours crying, praying, and trying to figure out what to do. Once the room was quite I rose from my corner feeling weak, feeling defeated, and feeling scared.

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Dawn came all too early the next morning. The sun streamed through the dust covered windows covering my face in a layer of sunshine. Opening my eyes I wondered how the sun could shine on a day like this. Did the world not realize what had happened last night? Did they not care? But why would they care? We're just a bunch of newsies, a bunch of kids who have no one to care for us but each other. The world wouldn't stop for one low life newsie's life. No one would stop. The day would go on like it always had, no heading in the newspaper that would tell the tragic tale of what we all saw last night, no mourners to come and say their condolences.

The anger boiled inside of me as I realized that we where the only ones who cared, the only ones who would ever care. Jumping out of bed I reached for the tin can that sat on my night stand and threw it across the room at the wall. Everyone stopped what they where doing and looked at me. I could read the emotions on their face as easily as if they had all had signs pasted on their heads. Some where confused, others upset, and other, like me, where angry. Running from the lodge I realized I had to do something, I had to find who did this, I had to do this for Sammy, and for all the newsies!

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I stood at the end of the docks looking out onto the horizon. Shielding my eyes from the sun I paced back and forth the width of the docks. For hours I stayed there wondering how I was going to do this. Then as if on cue I was blinded by a shiny object coming from the other end of the docks. Being cautious I walked back towards the street to see what it was.

Half way stuck under a crate I saw a pocket knife sticking out. Looking at it I thought it was rusted but once I picked it up and got a closer look I realized that it wasn't rust, it was blood. The knife was covered in blood. But why would it be covered in blood? And why would it be…

My eyes grew wide as I realized what it must be. Taking a more careful look at the knife I noticed two small letters, S.W, carved into the side of the handle. S.W? Who is S.W? It must be the person that killed her, no one in Brooklyn is S.W, and this is definitely not a Brooklyn knife!

Quickly, and being careful not to be seen, I stuck the knife into my pocket and started to make my way back to the lodge. I had a feeling that this knife was going to be a key piece of evidence in my search.

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Please let me know what you think!! I will really try to get the second half up soon!!