When the twins came home, they almost caused their mother to faint on sight. Had she messed up raising her seventeen-year-old daughters? One of the girls was standing in her doorway wearing pants, and she looked as if she hadn't had a bath or washed her clothing in three days. It was horrendous. And the other was bruised everywhere imaginable, her arm was broken, and her dress was showing her knees. She looked between the girls, and hurried into the parlor so she could recline on the couch and recover from the pounding headache her daughters had just gifted to her.

"Well, that went well," Rebecca commented, and Elizabeth just nodded in agreement. After stopping in the kitchen to pick up some ice for Elizabeth's multitude of bruises, they ascended the stairs together and finally had a moment to relax. While Rebecca drew a bath and grabbed some new clothing for the two of them to wear, sadly picking out dresses, Elizabeth sat on her bed and pressed ice to some of the bigger marks. The injured twin swapped out wraps for when she was in the bath, not wanting to get Crutchie's banner wet. Even though the strike was over, she wanted to preserve the little piece of fabric as a memento of both the strike and her newfound friend's kindness.

Throughout the hour they spent there, taking baths and putting on "appropriate" attire, neither of them really spoke. They didn't feel that they needed to, really. They were near each other again, and that was all the comfort they really needed. But, when they went downstairs, planning to head to The Journal to visit their father and convince him to give some money, the sound of their parents' voices filled their ears from behind the closed parlor doors. Apparently, their father had come home for a while to relax, something he thought was well-deserved after the stress of the past few days.

They could hear their mother making a comment. "William," she started, "what are we to do with these girls? They're coming home from wherever they are dirty and indecent. This is not how we raised our daughters."

Mr. Hearst let out a deep sigh. "I don't know, Millie. But, Rebecca's always been a little bit of a rebel, and she's been influencing Elizabeth. We've known about that."

"So it needs to stop," Millie declared. "Burn the trousers like you did the last time. Let them know that this isn't what we're going to allow them to do. If they're going to live under our roof, they will live by our rules."

"But don't you think that might make things worse? They already went out of their way to participate in a fight that wasn't even theirs. Who knows what they'll do if we push against them further?"

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, dear. I have an idea that will help them learn, if they don't listen now. They'll learn, eventually."

The girls froze. What did their mother mean by that? Did their mother have a plan to keep them in line? If so, why hadn't she used it sooner? The two girls locked eyes, and silently asked each other if they should leave or stay. Then, they remembered that they needed the money for the party that night, and Elizabeth mustered up the courage to knock on the parlor door.

There was some hesitation, but soon after, the two girls heard their father say, "Come in."

The two girls entered the parlor with matching false smiles pasted on their faces. "Mother, Father," Elizabeth started, "We had an idea earlier today that the newsies deserved some time to relax and celebrate their victory. So, we told our friends that we'd be throwing a victory party at Jacobi's Deli tonight at dinnertime."

"And just where are you getting the money for that?" Mrs. Hearst inquired of the twins, sitting up from her place on the couch. The color had returned to her face after an hour of rest, which made her expression look a little less severe.

"Well, we were hoping from you, and from Mr. Pulitzer. After all, it was the actions of the two of you that caused the strike to even be necessary. So it's only right that you offer something to be kind in return, say that all is forgiven and such." Elizabeth shrugged as she finished speaking, trying to seem a little more sure of herself as she made this claim.

Mr. Hearst tilted his head slightly at her words. "We made a compromise, Elizabeth. I think our actions there were enough, don't you think?"

Rebecca crossed her arms and glared at the adults in front of them. With a quick glance at her sister, she decided to use Elizabeth's former situation to her advantage. "Don't you think it's only fair, especially after one of your daughters spent a few nights in the Refuge?"

The color that had returned to Mrs. Hearst's cheeks was gone again, as was the color in her husband's face. "You were where?" she asked, looking at the injured girl with surprise in her eyes.

Rebecca, still as defiant as before, replied, "You heard me correctly. She voluntarily went to the Refuge to take care of the kids there because they needed someone to help them. She dealt with the cruelties of Warden Snyder firsthand. That's why she's got that broken arm and all those bruises."

Elizabeth chewed her lip. "Becky, we don't really need to talk about this..." she started.

Rebecca nodded. "Right, sorry. But still. She did all that for the others. The least you can do is provide something to try and make it up to the kids who work for you and the kids who were treated so cruelly, like your own daughter, because they're probably going to come as well." She reached out and grabbed her sister's good arm lightly. "Come on, Eliza. Let's go."

And with that, the two girls left the house, the sound of apologetic parents ringing in their ears until the front door slammed behind them.

*****

At five o'clock that day, the girls arrived at Jacobi's Deli, ready to go explain the situation to Mr. Jacobi. Throughout the day, they had just wandered, exploring together to just relax and try to forget what they had overheard their parents talking about. They didn't want to worry about any of it, especially today while they were celebrating with their friends.

As they entered the restaurant, Mr. Jacobi was behind the counter, polishing some glasses when he noticed their arrival. "Rebecca and Elizabeth Hearst?" he asked, looking up from his work to address them.

He hadn't known their names before, so his question surprised the girls. But, Elizabeth figured that one of the newsies had run by with their names, commenting about the party, so she decided to reply. "Yes, that's us."

The man smiled at the two girls. "Your father came by earlier," he started, "and he was hoping to find you two. He gave me a deposit of money from himself and Mr. Pulitzer to pay for the get-together you suggested for the newsies." The girls were clearly surprised to hear this from Mr. Jacobi, which he found amusing. "Do you girls have any requests of things you want for them to enjoy?"

Rebecca remembered something she had heard one of the boys dream of the day after Elizabeth and Crutchie were brought to the Refuge: pastrami on rye with a sour pickle. "Sandwiches. Make sure to have some pastrami ones," she declared with a bright smile.

"Please," Elizabeth added as she nudged her sister slightly, wanting to be polite.

Mr. Jacobi just nodded and said, "I think we can do that. Have a seat. Your friends should be arriving soon, I assume." With that, he went back into the kitchen and got to work preparing the food for the group.

The twins sat down and waited for the others to arrive. Instead of thinking about their parents, the girls planned on just enjoying themselves tonight. There was no time for the girls to think about their family problems.

There wouldn't have even been enough time to start to talk about what was bothering them, to be completely honest. Only a minute or two after they settled into their seat, Race, Sniper, Specs, and Romeo entered excitedly, laughing and joking around like they always did. As soon as they saw the girls sitting there, they grinned. "Lizzie! Beck! How's it goin'?" Sniper asked his friends happily as he came up behind them and rested an arm on the back of their chairs.

Instead of pushing all their problems on their friends, Rebecca lied and said, "Everything's great. Mr. Jacobi is preparing some sandwiches for everyone, so sit back, relax, and enjoy yourselves, okay?"

Romeo grinned. "Don't have ta tell us twice." And with that, the four of them found places to sit. Then again, they were messing around with each other enough that they really didn't need to sit.

Throughout the next few minutes, newsies filtered into the restaurant at a fairly steady pace. Most of them came over to greet the twins and thank them for setting it all up. As soon as the sandwiches came out, though, nobody paid them any attention. That attention was all directed at the best sandwiches they'd ever seen. Henry, of course, was incredibly excited at the sight of the sandwich he had been dreaming of, which made the girls laugh.

The last people to arrive were Jack, Katherine, Davey, Les, and Crutchie. The five of them came in with smiles on their faces, and Katherine was holding Jack's hand. "Well, that's all the explanation I need," Elizabeth joked with her sister quietly as the five newcomers came over to their table.

Katherine sat down in the chair beside Elizabeth and smiled at her. "You know, it's good to have you back, Eliza," she commented sweetly, now that she had the chance to say so. "How are you feeling?"

"Battered and bruised, but I'll survive." Elizabeth laughed a little bit and leaned back in her seat, shifting her weight so she didn't push down on a sore spot.

Rebecca grinned and draped an arm around her sister's shoulder, being careful to avoid a bruise on her collarbone. "Look at my little sister, being strong," she proclaimed to the little group, just loud enough for her words to be distinguishable from the ruckus happening around them.

Elizabeth turned to look at her sister, trying not to laugh. "I was always told I was the older one, you know."

Before the two girls could start to argue about who actually was the older twin, Les jumped into the conversation. "Well, you're both older than me. I'm gonna get me a seltzer!" With that, the nine-year-old dashed off to the counter, leaving the six older kids to laugh.

As they watched the young boy run off, Jack turned back to the group. "So, this is a party, right?" When the twins nodded at him, he smirked a bit. "Well, then why youse sittin' around here and not doin' somethin' fun?"

Davey looked wary of this question. "And what's your definition of fun?" he inquired, not in the mood for doing something potentially dangerous or stupid.

"Relax, Dave, ya got nothin' ta worry 'bout," Jack replied, shaking his head at his friend. "Anyways, ya think Jacobi's got a talkin' machine?" Before anybody could answer his question, he walked away towards the deli owner to make the inquiry himself.

The little group was silent for a few seconds before Crutchie spoke up. "Ise never seen a real talkin' machine before. Ya think they got one here that we ain't seen before?"

Elizabeth shrugged, which slightly hurt her shoulder. "Maybe you're all too busy talking to each other to notice it when you're spending time here."

Crutchie nodded in agreement. "So, how do they work?"

"Phonographs?" Katherine asked. "Well, you put a record, this round, flat disc with grooves in it, on a turntable. Then, you put the needle of the machine in the groove, and as the record turns, music plays. My mother used one to put on some nice music during dinner parties and such when I still lived with them."

"Well," Crutchie commented, "I hope he's got one. I wanna see one in real life."

Things would work out in his favor. A few minutes later, music filled the room, and the loud chatter of the other newsies died down. Everyone's eyes turned to the corner of the room, where Jack and Jacobi stood with a pristine new phonograph on a small table.

Jack spoke up, getting the attention of everyone in the room. "What's a party without music, anyway?" he asked the group, and the other newsies voiced their agreement. With a grin on his face, he went back over to the girls, Crutchie, and Davey.

That was when he offered his hand to Katherine. "Hey Ace, wanna dance?" he asked as he winked at the young reporter.

Katherine couldn't help laughing a bit, but she placed her hand in his anyway. "You're an interesting one, Jack Kelly," she murmured as she stood up, and she was instantly swept into the middle of the makeshift dance floor. This, of course, was met by even more hollers from the newsies, just like the ones they offered after the couple kissed that morning.

Then, after the couple danced together on the otherwise empty dance floor for a minute, Rebecca commented, "Okay, this isn't even a slow song. Why are we all sitting around here? Let's all go dance," she said and got up. When nobody else got up immediately, she looked around at all the others. "Come on, you guys!" Her gaze landed on Elizabeth and Crutchie. "You two, why not dance? You could just go sway together in the corner. You don't have to do something crazy, just do something to get people on the floor," she ordered.

Elizabeth looked up at her sister. "Becky-"

"Please, just go," Rebecca interrupted, offering her sister a knowing smile. "It'll be fun."

Elizabeth shook her head and let a smile creep onto her lips. She then stood up and looked over at Crutchie. "Wanna go sway in the corner then?" After all, swaying back and forth on his relatively good leg was the only real dancing he could do.

Crutchie returned the smile and nodded. "Sure." With that, the two were on the dance floor, doing what they could in their beaten and bruised states. Though they couldn't do much, it still managed to convince most of the newsies on the other side of the room to put down their sandwiches and seltzer and join the group.

The only one who really didn't get up and join in was Davey. When Rebecca noticed this, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "C'mon, Davey. What, do you just not dance or something?"

Davey shrugged. "I was gonna go and get some seltzer in a minute, so there's no point in joining in if I'm going to leave the floor a minute later," he explained.

It was a reasonable reason, but Rebecca had a point of her own. "The seltzer will still be there in a few minutes. A dance floor full of your friends and fellow newsies might not be," she pointed out. When Davey cracked a smile, she did too and held her hand out to him like Jack had done before. "C'mon, David. It'll be fun..."

He looked up at her and laughed a bit. "Alright, you win. If you weren't so persistent," he admitted as he stood up.

"I should change my middle name to persistent," Rebecca commented, then walked with him out onto the floor, victorious in her efforts to convince him.

For the rest of the night, everyone felt like they were the king of New York, and deservedly so.