CENTRAL CITY. SIX YEARS AGO.

The Blue Lily bustled with activity. It was a fancy bar located in Central City’s southern district, near the city center. The city’s high society congregated here, clad in their most luxurious evening wear. Glittering gowns and crisp tuxedos - some of them Clothiers-made, all of them extravagantly expensive - covered the bodies of Central City’s elite as they milled about holding cocktails and making small talk.

Sometimes that small talk was truly small; a how is your husband, or perhaps a you catch the game last night? But more often than one might think, this small talk formed the basis of decisions on which Central City’s destiny turned. The Blue Lily, to those in the know, was considered as much an unofficial seat of government as a place to climb the social ladder. Aleph Corporation executives were frequent guests, as well as local representatives of The Clothiers.

The interior of The Blue Lily was divided into two levels. The upper level consisted of a wide balcony overlooking the central ballroom that dominated much of the lower level. Only the most elite socialites belonged on The Blue Lily’s upper level. From behind its balcony’s ornately carved white railing, the powerful looked down and judged those below, or perhaps nursed drinks more expensive than some of the ballgowns worn by those on the lower level, or perhaps spoke to one another in undertones and small gestures.

It was on this balcony that the owner of The Blue Lily now stood, sipping a martini.

DA-DOOM!

He was:

Paul “Tall Paul” Moraque. Don of the Lily Legion Mafia.

Paul, or as he was known by those who were in the know, “Tall Paul”, surveyed the evening’s socializing with a smile of contentment. And why shouldn’t he be content? Business was good. Damn good. The money was flowing. The booze was plentiful. The city belonged to him.

Still, something was nagging at him. He nodded to a squat man, one of the several gangsters standing nearby, who nodded back and approached him.

“Any problems?” Tall Paul asked the squat gangster.

“Nah. Everything’s good. No disturbances or nothin’.”

“Good,” Tall Paul nodded, but the uneasy feeling didn’t go away. It was like a prickle between his shoulder blades, an itch he couldn’t scratch. Something’s wrong, he thought. I don’t like it. Without another word to his subordinates, the mob boss walked away.

***

Moxie’s heart was hammering in her chest so hard that she felt sure it must be audible across the street. She focused on her breathing, trying to force herself to calm down.

This wasn’t just another job. She knew that in her core. And The Blue Lily wasn’t just another bar. This was going to be the most dangerous burglary she had ever attempted.

Okay, Moxie girl, she thought. She tightened her grip on the screwdriver in her hand. Lefty-Loosey.

She began to remove the bolts that held up the hinges of an old wooden door. The door was an alley entrance near The Blue Lily’s back door, so it was an ideal entry point for her to sneak in undetected. From the sour stench that hung in the air, she guessed that the condemned building she had broken into was once a restaurant whose leftover food had been abandoned to spoil long ago.

“Come… On… You… Asshole…” Moxie growled, twisting the screwdriver with all her might.

The final bolt was stuck. With another surge of effort, she finally managed to twist it out. By the time she pulled the door off its hinges and leaned it against the wall, she was panting and sweaty. It didn’t help that she was wearing her all-black, long-sleeved outfit to remain unseen. She wiped a sleeve across her forehead.

Here goes nothing.

The young woman emerged into the alley. It was fenced off at each end, with guards positioned nearby to stop any intruders. Fortunately, none of them had seemed to anticipate an intruder entering the alley from the inside.

Moxie twisted her torso back and forth, cracking her back. The cold air chilled the sweat on her clothing with icy fingers. She shivered. Ignoring the uncomfortable sensation, Moxie sneaked down the alley, taking cover behind dumpsters and storage carts that bore The Blue Lily’s logo.

Now for the hard part, she thought.

The Blue Lily’s back door wasn’t locked, but it was frequently used. As she watched, kitchen staff flitted in and out, tossing bags into the dumpsters or retrieving some odd gadget or another from the storage carts. There was no rhythm or predictability to their movements. Finding a good time to slip in unnoticed was going to be extremely difficult.

Moxie stole a bit closer to the door and pressed herself against the bricks of the alley wall next to the storage cart closest to the door. She peered through the narrow gap between the cart’s back end and the wall. She couldn’t see much, but she would at least be able to tell if the door was being opened.

“…The safe you’re lookin’ for should be in the back office,” Charlie had said. He had called her this morning to provide details. “The boss has been back there before. He says it’s a red room with a white door. The safe’s just sitting there in the corner. It’s nothin’ fancy. Code’s 15-32-41. Just snatch the jewelry box and get out. Nice and easy.”

“Wait,” Moxie had protested. “If you guys know all this stuff, why are you getting me to steal it? Why not just do it yourselves?”

“What, you don’t trust us or somethin’? I’m hurt, Moxie, really I am.”

“Save it. What is this? Why are you - Why is Spats - hiring me for this job?”

Charlie was silent for a long while. When he spoke again, it was in an undertone. “Okay, look. I’m not supposed to tell ya this, so don’t rat on me. I’ll kill ya if you do. But this job? It’s not the real job. Spats is workin’ another angle. I can’t tell ya what it is exactly, on account of I don’t know myself. Basically, you’re a distraction. That safe? It’s wired up to an alarm. It should go off a few seconds after ya open it. I think Spats is expecting you to make it out okay, but you ain’t one of us, so it’s no skin off his nose if you get busted. Understand?”

Moxie nodded. She sighed into the phone. “So my real job is just to trip the alarm?”

“Yeah.” Charlie sounded a bit nervous. Was he expecting her to lash out at him? Was he… Was he scared of her doing so? Moxie smiled. Despite the danger, she was excited. This job was getting more interesting by the minute.

“Okay,” she said at last. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. No problem. I got this…”

The alley door opened. A shaft of bright light from inside The Blue Lily shone out into the night. It was immediately broken by two shadows as a couple of cooks shuffled out into the cold for a smoke break. Moxie watched them carefully. The door made a CLAPPING sound as it swung shut behind them.

“Paul’s on one tonight,” one of the cooks muttered bitterly, clicking their lighter.

“Not this again,” said the other. “Look, this is a smoke break. I want to take a break from thinkin’ about Paul, alright?”

“Wish I could. I mean, damn.”

“Whatever. Just keep your voice down and let me smoke in peace.”

The two cooks fell quiet after that, only muttering to one another when they wanted to borrow a light. The minutes stretched on. Moxie’s legs burned from the way she was crouching behind the storage cart, but she endured by imagining the look on Piper’s face when she would open her birthday gift. I’m gonna get you a hat that’ll make Allie Aleph herself jealous, she thought with a grin.

The cooks burned through a couple of cigarettes each. After what seemed like an eternity to Moxie, they sighed and made for the door.

Now’s my chance! Moxie thought. Moving as quietly as she could manage, she crept around the storage cart and waited for the door to open. After a moment it glided open, once again spearing the shadows of the alley with the light from inside. The cooks meandered inside, never looking backward. Moxie darted inside behind them before the door could close again.

CLAP!

She had done it. She was inside The Blue Lily.

DA-DOOM!

The cooks walked onward and turned aside into the expansive kitchen that lay beyond. The noise was overwhelming. Sputtering stove fires, sizzling skillets, shouting chefs, singing kettles, spraying water, slamming utensils.

Moxie breathed a sigh of relief; none of the cooks were facing her direction. Looking around, she noticed a closed walk-in freezer on her left, and a long, narrow passage lined with doors to her right. Her intuition told her that was the way she wanted to go.

The passage was even narrower than it had looked from the outside. Good thing I’m not claustrophobic, she thought wryly. Occasionally she had to turn slightly sideways to avoid brushing against the various posters and notices that festooned the left wall.

“White door, red room,” Moxie whispered to herself. “White door, red room.”

Several silver doors lined the passage’s right side. Each had a small window set at face-height. The first room appeared to be a tiny management office of some sort, but it was the same off-white color as the walls of the passage, not red. Through the window of the second door, Moxie could see a couple of waiters having a conversation. She ducked away from the window before she was noticed. Must be a break room, she thought. She had no more luck with the next two doors, which led to storage and utility closets.

The passage made a sharp right at its end, leading to a still-more secluded, far shorter passage. Then she saw it. Set into the wall on the left side was a white door with no window. Moxie’s heart began hammering again. She pushed past the butterflies that were swarming in her stomach and tested the door handle. It was unlocked. Pulling with a steady hand, Moxie opened the door a crack and peered inside.

Just as Charlie had said, the room beyond the white door was painted red. It was a larger room than she had expected, about twenty feet square.

What is this guy, a vampire? Moxie thought, observing the red leather armchair and matching rug that were set behind an ornate wooden desk at the room’s far end. She peered around, searching for her objective. There! The safe, a quite ordinary-looking gray metal one with a black dial, sat in the far left corner next to the desk. It was actually quite conspicuous, a large grey box standing out against the sea of red.

The office appeared to be unoccupied, but Moxie still moved carefully as she crept inside. She carefully pulled the door to behind her without fully closing it, then moved toward the safe. She crouched down in front of it and cracked her knuckles.

15-32-41, she thought. And the alarm’s gonna go off as soon as I open it. Gotta move fast. C’mon, Moxie girl. You got this. You got this!

The safe’s metal dial was cold against her fingers as she twisted it slowly toward the number 15.

“LirLirLir. Excuse me, miss. I wasn’t expecting company,” a voice said behind her.

Moxie jumped. Shit! She whirled around, pulling the screwdriver from her pocket and holding it out in front of her like a sword.

A tall man stood near the white door, dressed in an exquisitely tailored navy blue tuxedo. He was balding, but the hair that still ringed his head was lustrous and dark. A thin mustache framed his upper lip. If it wasn’t for the terrifyingly huge handgun he held at his side, Moxie might have thought he looked like a butler. The strong scent of an exotic cologne emanated from the man. Moxie wrinkled her nose. It smelled like lilies bathed in chemical cleaner.

“Who are you?” Moxie demanded. Gotta buy some time!

The man inclined his head politely. “I’m Paul, Tall Paul. I’m the owner of this fine establishment. And you are intruding in my office, miss…?”

“Black,” Moxie blurted out. It was the first thing that had come to her mind, likely inspired by the sight of the black denim sleeves that clad her outstretched arms.

Tall Paul nodded. For a man who had just discovered a burglar in his office, he looked quite serene. “Miss Black, then,” he said. “Who, exactly, put you up to breaking into my safe?”

“Nobody, I-”

“Bullshit,” Tall Paul said sharply. He paused a moment, then his voice returned to its former calm. “The Blue Lily isn’t the sort of place a lone sneak-thief would try to rob, so don’t waste my time. Somebody sent you. If you tell me who that somebody is, maybe I won’t use this on you.” He tapped the handgun against his leg.

Moxie’s mouth went dry. What do I do? “Nobody! I just-”

“Last chance,” said Tall Paul dryly. He cocked the gun’s hammer back with his thumb and raised it toward Moxie.

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit! Got no choice…

“He’s called Spats,” Moxie relented. “Spats is the one that hired me. He wanted me to steal your cuff-links so he could ransom them back to you. I swear.”

An odd light came into Tall Paul’s eyes. “Spats? My cuff-links?” He mused. “Why would he… Ah! LirLirLir. LIRLIRLIRLIRLIR!” Laughter burst from him so unexpectedly that Moxie flinched, but the gangster didn’t seem to notice. He just kept laughing harder and harder. “LIRLIRLIRLIRLIRLIRLIR! Spats! You damn dirty dog, Spats. Now this is fun!”

Moxie lowered the screwdriver, eyeing the man warily. “Listen, Paul-”

“Tall Paul. LirLirLir…”

“Tall Paul,” Moxie agreed quickly. “Look, I’m not with Spats. He just hired me for this job, okay? I don’t know anything about him. This was just a one-time thing. So can you just… forget this whole thing and let me go? Please.”

Tall Paul tapped the handgun against his leg a few more times. He gave Moxie a calculating look. She felt so tense that her stomach was starting to get queasy, but she said nothing.

“Hmm, what the hell, LirLirLir. Tell you what, Miss Black. I will open the safe for you. You just finish the job you were hired to do. And don’t worry. I’ll even disable the alarm.”

“What? Why?” Moxie gasped. Why is he doing this?

“I’m not done, Miss Black. I have one condition. If I let you go, do not tell Spats about our little talk. Let him think he got away with his scheme. Are we agreed?”

Moxie nodded. Tall Paul smiled, then crossed the room and opened the safe. The moment the safe door opened, he reached inside and pressed a concealed button near the top, disabling the alarm before it could go off. Then Tall Paul stood and walked back toward the door, chuckling to himself.

“LirLirLir. Have at it, with my blessing.” he said over his shoulder. “But remember. Not a word to Spats. If you break our agreement… Well, you can use your imagination.”

“I will - I mean, I won’t! I won’t tell him anything. I swear,” Moxie breathed.

Tall Paul didn’t reply. He simply strode out of the office and closed the door behind him. It shut with a quiet click.

The moment the door was closed, Moxie doubled over and gripped her knees, trembling violently. It took her several minutes to regain her composure.

“What the hell was that,” she said aloud. “What was that guy’s deal? What the hell?!”

Shaking herself off, Moxie walked over to the open safe and stooped down to look inside. Sure enough, sitting right there in the center of the safe was a small, red leather jewelry box. There was some cash inside as well, but after her encounter with Tall Paul, she didn’t dare take it, no matter what Spats had said.

The jewelry box felt unexpectedly rough against her fingers as she retrieved it. Its red leather was the exact same shade as the chair and the walls. Please don’t be a trick, she thought. She opened it. To her relief, a pair of diamond cuff-links glimmered inside. Moxie let out a shaky breath. Thank god.

***

Moxie didn’t call Charlie until she’d put several city blocks between her and The Blue Lily. Her body had finally stopped trembling, but she still felt deeply unsettled. What if Tall Paul changed his mind? What if he came after her? He didn’t know her real name, but that was little comfort. The memory of the enormous handgun was hard to shake.

Moxie ducked into the gap between two dumpsters to hide before pulling her cell phone from her pocket and dialing Charlie’s number.

“I got it,” she said the moment he answered.

“You… You did? Okay,” Charlie said, sounding confused.

“So… What do I do now?”

“Go back to HQ. You can hand it over to Spats there and get paid.”

“Then I’m done?”

Charlie was silent for a long moment before saying, “Yeah, sure. Then you’re done.”

***

TAP. TAP. TAP.

Moxie bounced on the balls of her feet impatiently, eyes locked on the alley door. When it finally opened, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t Charlie who had answered; it was the man Spats had called Johnny Paradise.

“Come on in, beautiful,” Johnny said sleazily. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and led the way. His arms swung in an oddly limp way as he walked.

After closing the door again, Moxie followed silently behind Johnny Paradise. Every step she took felt like it might be her last. What should she do? Should she tell Spats the truth and risk Tall Paul’s wrath? Should she obey Tall Paul and hide what had really happened from Spats? What if Spats found out anyway? Her head swam with the possibilities. None of her options looked good.

There was only one thought that comforted her as she followed Johnny Paradise through the kitchen door. At least they don’t know about Piper. She’s safe. She smiled a bit at the thought of her little sister asleep at home. Piper was probably conked out on the couch from watching TV much later than she was supposed to. That vision of normalcy went a long way toward making Moxie feel more centered as she marched toward her unknown fate.

Just got to get back home, Moxie thought. Once I’m home this will all be over, and everything will be alright again.

The kitchen was much darker than when she had been here the night before. Spats and Tiny were sitting around the table in the corner alcove once again, their faces illuminated only by a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling. The stainless steel surfaces and industrial kitchenware that loomed beyond that pool of dim light gleamed sinisterly in the darkness.

“She’s here, boss,” said Johnny Paradise. He took his seat on Spats’ left, abandoning Moxie to stand before the mob boss alone.

She felt terribly small as she approached the table. I don’t belong here. This whole thing was such a stupid mistake. But it’s too late for regrets now. Come on, Moxie girl. Let’s get this over with.

“Eleven forty,” Spats observed, glancing at his wristwatch. “Right on time.” His voice was friendly, but his face was hard.

“Yeah, I, uh, I did it,” Moxie shrugged. She produced the red leather jewelry box from her jacket pocket and gingerly set it on the table in front of Spats.

He looked at it without much interest and asked, “So. How’d you do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“How’d you pull it off? Or,” he winked at her, “does a master thief not reveal their secrets?”

Moxie looked at Spats with what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “Something like that.”

Spats nodded. He glanced at Tiny, who shook his head in a movement so small it was almost imperceptible. The mob boss seemed to divine some hidden meaning from the giant’s response, and his eyes were narrow with suspicion when he turned them back on Moxie.

“What about the alarm?” Spats asked.

“Oh! I deactivated it.”

Spats tilted his head inquisitively. “How?”

“Safes like that have alarms all the time,” Moxie bluffed, placing her right hand on the back of her neck. “You just have to push the button inside fast enough once you crack it open. So I just, you know, pushed the button before it tripped the alarm. It was easy.”

Spats stared wordlessly at her for a long time. Moxie felt the same queasy feeling she had felt in Tall Paul’s office. Please, please just believe me, she thought. Please. Just believe me, let me go, and you’ll never see me again!

The mob boss glanced toward Tiny again. If the giant communicated with Spats in that moment, it was too subtle for Moxie to detect. But when Spats looked back at Moxie again, the suspicion had left his eyes.

“Hahaha! See, boys? What’d I tell ya? She’s a damn canvas!” Spats laughed suddenly, slapping the table with his palm. The other two men joined in, though Tiny only chuckled briefly before falling silent. He never stopped staring at Moxie with his piggish eyes.

“Canvas?” Moxie murmured. She felt the terror slowly melting away. It sapped her energy as it left her. She was relieved, relieved beyond measure, but also exhausted. So damn exhausted.

Spats stood excitedly and started to pace circles around the table. Tiny scooted his chair closer to the table to give his boss more room to move, but he didn’t look away from Moxie.

“Great work, great work, Doll,” Spats said feverishly. Moxie opened her mouth to protest being called Doll again, but she closed it again. The less she said, the better. Spats continued muttering, speaking more to himself than to anyone else. “I’ve got you now, Paul. Your days are numbered, ya sleazy bastard. Alarm didn’t go off, but that’s no problem; we’ll just come up with something else. Johnny, that’ll be your job.”

Johnny Paradise nodded to Spats in acknowledgment, then leaned back in his seat so limply that he seemed to lack bones.

The mob boss was pacing around the table faster and faster. He was still speaking aloud, but half of what he said was indecipherable mumbling. Moxie waited there watching him for as long as she could stand, but her restlessness was building to a breaking point. If there was a time for her to get out of here, it was now, while Spats was in what seemed to be a good mood.

“Hey, Spats? What about my money?” Moxie asked at last.

Spats’ pacing paused. The other two men frowned at her. For a moment, just a moment, Moxie thought Spats looked angry. Furious, even. Her heart leapt into her throat. Then the moment passed, and Spats was smiling so warmly at her that she almost wondered if she had imagined the whole thing.

“Of course! Sorry to keep ya waiting, Doll,” he said. “Hear that, boys? You never leave a lady waiting.” He dug in his pocket for his billfold and pulled out several bills. “Here ya go, two grand, and…” He shrugged, and pulled out a few more bills. “Here’s a tip, too. Spats Colombo treats his people right, don’t he, boys?” He winked at Moxie.

Tiny grunted.

“Thanks,” Moxie said, stuffing the money into her pocket without even looking at it. “If you don’t mind, I have to go now.”

“Sure,” Spats said. “But listen. I might have more jobs for you in the future. There’s a lot more money for ya where that came from. So be expecting my call. Now go on.”

“I don’t-”

“Go on!” Spats said impatiently, gesturing to the door. “Got some business to discuss with my, uh, fellow businessmen. See ya around, Doll.”

“It’s Moxie.”

Spats’ eyes locked with hers so fast that her heart stopped for an instant. Charlie’s glassy eyes were nothing compared to the lethal malice that churned behind Spats’ gaze. Charlie had probably killed people before, but Spats… Spats was a killer. Only now, for the first time, did Moxie understand the difference.

“Right. See you again soon, Moxie,” Spats said.

Moxie left, feeling the eyes of all three men drilling into her back as she went. She started running as soon as she reached the dark passage. Outside, the night seemed full of terrors. The flickering neon signs above her painted the dark pavement in livid colors. Red like Tall Paul’s office. Blue like Tall Paul’s tuxedo.

Had she made the right choice, double-crossing Spats? Spats was dangerous, terrifying, but as far as she could tell, he only had a crew of three others at his command. By contrast, Tall Paul owned The Blue Lily. She had seen the sort of clientèle that joint attracted: the rich, the powerful, the fashionable.

Spats might be dangerous, but Tall Paul had resources. Between the two men, reason would identify Tall Paul as the greater threat.

And yet…

And yet, somehow… Moxie couldn’t shake the feeling that Spats was truly dangerous in a way that Tall Paul could never attain. Deep down, she sensed that the difference between Tall Paul and Spats was like the difference between Charlie and Spats. One had surely killed before, but the other?

The other was a killer.

Moxie kept to the shadows as she moved through the night. She didn’t feel safe again until she was home. When she arrived, she locked the door behind her and collapsed against it, panting.

What was I thinking? What the hell was I thinking?!

She had broken the most important rule. Survival as a thief depended on going unnoticed, and that went double in matters concerning the mafia.

It was a long time before she thought about the money Spats had given her. She fished it out of her pocket and counted it out.

“Five hundred, one grand, another five hundred, seven-fifty, two grand…” She froze. There were still bills in her hands. A lot of them. Spats’ tip had been more than generous; it dwarfed the two grand she’d been promised. She couldn’t believe her eyes. There, in the palms of her hands, was five grand.

Her jaw dropped. Her eyes were wide with shock. Her fingers tingled.

Five grand…

BZZZ. BZZZ.

It was her phone. Charlie was calling her.

Five grand. Five grand for one job.

Five grand could go a long way. It could get them out of this shithole apartment. It could feed them for months if they were careful. It could buy Piper ten hats if she wanted them.

BZZZ. BZZZ.

Should I answer it? Suddenly, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly, the terrors she had faced tonight seemed like nothing at all. Suddenly, she wasn’t regretting breaking the most important rule of surviving as a thief.

Suddenly, Spats didn’t seem quite so dangerous.

BZZZ. BZZZ.

She stared down at the cell phone. She could do this, couldn’t she? Sure, she could make this work. She knew she could. Besides, she’d survived the night, hadn’t she? Sure. Of course she had!

She flipped the phone open.

She pressed the green button.

She lifted it to her ear. “Hi.”

“What the hell was that, Moxie?” Charlie demanded. He sounded more irritated than Moxie had ever heard before.

“What?”

“You know what. Are you an idiot? No, really, are you a damn IDIOT?! I told you the alarm was part of the boss’ plan! Why’d you turn it off? You know my ass is on the line for this? Huh? So what the hell, right?”

He kept ranting, but Moxie barely heard him. Who cared what Charlie thought? It didn’t matter. None of it did. She had pulled it off. She had sneaked into The Blue Lily. She had outsmarted Spats Colombo. She had survived the encounter with Tall Paul. She had outdone and overcome everybody. And she was holding five grand in her hands to prove it.

“You know what, Charlie?”

“What, Moxie? What?”

“Just. Shut. Up.”

“You bitch—!”

Click.

Moxie tossed the cell phone aside. It landed softly on the ragged rug nearby. She gripped the cash tightly, enjoying the way it felt in her hand. Five grand. Five grand for one job.

What was it Spats had said? That there was more money where that came from, that he’d have more jobs for her in the future?

“Well okay, Spats. You’re on,” she whispered.

“I’m in!”

***

Piper returned home from school the next day to find Moxie asleep on the futon. Not wanting to wake her big sister, she turned the TV volume all the way down. She didn’t mind watching Allie Aleph without the sound on; right now, she just wanted to gape at the clothes Allie wore… Especially the hats.

It had been another awful day at school for little Piper. Everywhere she looked there were unfriendly faces, mocking words, and Allie Aleph hats. She hadn’t had a panic attack today, but that was only a small comfort. On the bright side, she had done very well on her mathematics exam, which she knew would make Moxie proud. She couldn’t wait until her big sister woke up so that she could show her the “A-“ scrawled in red marker at the top right.

Piper smiled back at her slumbering big sister. Words would never be able to express how much she loved her. It was a feeling so big that it threatened to swallow her up. Moxie had sacrificed so much for her. Piper had argued with her many times over the last few years about their financial situation. She had pressed for, even outright demanded, that Moxie let her work, too. That way, Piper thought, Moxie wouldn’t have to work so hard. But her big sis would have none of it. She was irrevocably determined that Piper have as normal a life as possible.

“You have to go to school,” she would say. “Getting a job would just hurt your grades.”

And that was that. No amount of protesting on Piper’s part had ever budged Moxie’s stance on the subject. She’d tried to point out that other kids at school had jobs, that she could do her class work at night, that her grades were already good and she would probably still be passing her classes even if they did decline. But in the end, all those arguments might as well have been tennis balls bouncing against a castle wall for all the good they did.

Moxie was the one who took care of them, and that was always the end of it.

Always.

After twenty minutes or so had passed, Moxie stirred and yawned. “Piper? Hey! How was school?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

Piper beamed. “It was okay, I guess. Hey, Moxie, I wanted to show you something! I got-”

“Damn Clothiers,” Moxie spat abruptly.

Piper was taken aback. She followed Moxie’s eyes to the TV, where a Clothiers commercial had started to play. She looked at her big sister with confusion. She knew Moxie hated The Clothiers, and because of that Piper hated them too on principle, but it just wasn’t like her to ignore Piper like that.

“Moxie?”

“You know why we never have enough money, little sis?” Moxie murmured.

Piper frowned. Moxie was acting strange, even a little scary. What’s going on?

Moxie’s voice sounded far away, as though she was dreaming, as though she was sleep-talking. “It’s because of The Clothiers,” she said. “It’s because of this whole rotten system that ruined the world for people like us.”

“Yeah, I know,” Piper said. She tried to conceal her disquiet by keeping her voice even. Moxie had ranted about The Clothiers, about the Five Companies, about the whole New World System, before.

But something was different this time. Something was… was wrong.

“Did I ever tell you I got fired?” Moxie asked. Her eyes were still glued to the TV screen. The Clothiers’ commercial was playing on, the models posing silently. The only sound was the soft electric hum of the TV set.

“You… You got fired?” Piper said quietly.

“Yeah. It was bullshit. I worked hard, you know me, Piper, I busted my ass, you know? But my bosses didn’t care. They just hired somebody who walked in off the street; somebody who’d bought some Powerful Fashion Statements. I couldn’t ever afford them, you know that. They’re way too expensive, and we’ve never had the money.”

“Moxie…”

“Those damn Clothiers have turned the whole world upside down. People can’t even take care of their own families,” Moxie fumed. “If I could just… If I had ever been able to afford some Business Wear… I could have kept that job. I could have worked hard, and learned, and made money for us. That's what they did in the Old World. Well, most people, anyway. That’s what Mom said. Did I… Did I ever tell you she used to tell me stories about it sometimes? She told me about the Old World. About what things were like before the Clothiers. Before the Five Companies.”

Piper was wide-eyed. Moxie never talked about their parents. Piper could count on one hand the number of times her big sister had talked to her like this. Something was clearly very wrong with Moxie, and Piper felt she should probably try to snap her out of it… But she desperately wanted to hear about their mother. Piper wanted Moxie to keep telling this story forever, to bring the mother she could barely remember back to life. Even if it only lasted for a few minutes. So she said nothing, and waited for Moxie to continue.

Moxie’s eyes shone with the same wonder she had felt years ago, back when her mother would hold her on her lap and tell her these same stories. Her eyes sparkled with hope. With purpose. With reckless dreams.

“Can you imagine it, Piper?” she said. “Back then, there weren’t the Five Companies, the Five Presidents. Back then, there were places called countries. They were sort of like companies, but they were something different. I never really understood it when Mom tried to explain it to me. She said that countries were made up of thousands of businesses, all over the place.”

“Thousands?” Piper gasped.

Moxie smiled down at her. She seemed to return to the present as she met her little sister’s eyes. Her voice lost the far-away, trance-like quality. Whatever shadow had fallen over her seemed to have dissipated now, leaving behind nothing but Moxie, Piper’s beloved big sister, her idol, her world.

“Thousands,” Moxie said. “It sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Five companies is already more than I can handle.” She chuckled lightly, and Piper joined her. It was a lively sound. To Piper, their apartment had seldom felt warmer or more full of happiness.

“So, what happened?” Piper asked. “What happened to all those businesses? What happened to the Old World? Did Mom tell you?”

Moxie nodded. She still smiled, but it was a sad smile. She scooted over and patted the seat of the futon next to her. Piper sat down next to her cross-legged, watching her intently.

Moxie brushed a strand of her dark wavy hair behind her ear. “Mom said she didn’t know how it started, because it all happened before she was even born. But by the time she met Dad, the Old World was pretty much already gone. She said Grandpa used to tell her stories about a big war that changed everything. Grandma didn’t like it when Grandpa would talk about the war, though. So Mom didn’t ever get to hear the whole story.”

“What were they like?”

“Hm?”

“Grandma and Grandpa. What were they like?”

Moxie shrugged. “Old. I only ever met Grandma, and I was really little. I don’t even remember her anymore, not really.” She reached out and squeezed Piper’s hand. “Sorry. I know that sucks.”

“It’s okay,” Piper said, and to her surprise, she really meant it. “So… what happened? After the war?”

“Well, like I said, Mom didn’t really know much about it. I asked her. She would just joke that she was too googly-eyed at Dad to pay any attention to politics. But you know something? I kind of feel like she was lying about that.”

“Maybe she thought you were just a little kid,” Piper said. “Maybe she thought you weren’t big enough to hear about it yet.”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Moxie. “Anyway, that’s about all she ever told me about it. She just told me that by the time I was born, the Five Companies were in charge of everything. They divided up the world between them, and ever since then, well… Here we are.”

“What about The Clothiers? Where did they come from?”

The twinkle went out of Moxie’s eye. “I don’t know. Mom and Dad died a few years before I even heard of The Clothiers. It was crazy, though, Piper. It was like, one day, all of a sudden, The Clothiers just… showed up. Maybe that’s not really true - maybe they were around for a long time before that, and it was just four years ago that they started to get popular. I don’t know. But everything changed after Powerful Business Wear showed up. Things were bad enough for people like us before The Clothiers. But ever since then? It’s just gotten so much worse.”

The two sisters sat in silence for a very long time. Then Piper stood.

“Don’t buy me a hat, Moxie,” she said.

Moxie turned to her little sister, surprised. “What?”

Piper’s thin face was turned away from Moxie. “Don’t buy me a hat,” she said again. “I think… I think you should use that money to get a Powerful Fashion Statement. That way, you can finally... Finally win for once.”

“Piper…” Moxie gasped.

Piper whirled on Moxie and stared her in the eye. All at once, Moxie realized just how tall Piper was getting. Moxie was only a couple of inches taller than her now. Incredibly, unbelievably, Piper would be twelve in a few weeks. Twelve. Almost a teenager. When did she grow up all of a sudden? Moxie wondered, feeling a little unnerved.

Piper’s voice was passionate, firm. “You have to buy Business Wear, Moxie! You have to! Because… Because the only way to win is to beat them, all of them, at their own game!”

“Piper… What are you talking about?”

Piper paced the little living room in circles, reminding Moxie uncomfortably of the way Spats had paced around the table the night before. She had never seen Piper so riled up. Never. And…

And just when had her jaw gotten so sharp? Where had her baby fat gone? When had her chest started to grow, and her baby teeth fallen out, and her voice become so full?

Piper… Are you really almost a teenager? Are you really almost as old as I was that day when I gave you the magic cell phone? When did that happen? One day I fell asleep and you were my baby sister, and now…

“This whole system is broken, right?” Piper said. “You’ve told me that for years, Moxie. And I finally see it. I finally get it! You’re right. You’re right! Nobody… Nobody who works as hard as you do…” She was crying now. “Nobody who’s given up so much for their family…”

“…Nobody should have to suffer because they can’t get what they need! So whether it’s the Clothiers’ fault, or the Five Companies with their Five Presidents, I don’t care! I don’t care whose fault it is! Because… If this whole system is rotten to the core…”

DA-DOOM!

“Then I’m going to break this whole stupid world, so everybody can live free and have everything they need!” Piper cried.

Moxie’s mouth fell open. She half-expected herself to laugh at the eleven-year-old girl declaring war on the whole world, but somehow, she couldn’t. The thing was, she knew that Piper was deadly serious. And the thing was, she knew that what Piper was saying was impossible. And the thing was, no matter how impossible it might be…

…Moxie realized that she actually believed her.

“You crazy kid,” she said.

Piper’s eyes blazed. “So don’t get me that hat, Moxie. I’m not old enough to do anything yet, I know that, but… But I don’t want you to suffer anymore. That’s all. So save that money. Get a piece of Business Wear. And, when I’m old enough, I’ll be right behind you.”

Moxie stood and embraced Piper tightly. She squeezed her little sister hard against herself, trying to communicate all of the feelings that were rampaging within her heart and mind in the hug. The two sisters cried in one another’s arms, alone in the world, abandoned by the system, abused by the powerful, but still together. And that was what mattered.

At last, Piper pulled away. The two of them exchanged an intensely focused look. Then Piper snorted with laughter, and Moxie followed suit. The next thing they knew, new tears of mirth were making fresh tracks on their faces as the two of them howled with laughter. They laughed for a long time, until their bellies ached and their heads felt light. Then they collapsed again onto the futon.

“You know, Piper…” Moxie said when she had caught her breath, “You’re nuts. Breaking the whole world, huh? Well, if you’re really gonna try something crazy like that, you can’t do it alone.”

“I’m not alone!” Piper said brightly. “I have you!”

Moxie nodded. “Yeah, but… Piper… I’ll always be there for you. I promised that, and I meant it. But someday, I might not be around anymore. And if that ever happens, well…”

“Moxie…”

“I’m serious, Piper. You’ll need friends at your side. Real friends. The kind of friends who’ll put up with a crazy, hopeless dreamer like you.”

A profound sadness filled Piper’s eyes. She didn’t speak; she just nodded. Moxie might not know it, but compared to bringing down the world’s system and making a new world to replace it, the dream of having friends, real friends, the kind Moxie was talking about, felt utterly and impossibly out of reach.

Moxie didn’t notice Piper’s despondency. She had already stood, and was crossing the tiny distance to their kitchen. “Want some dinner?” She called back to Piper.

Piper sighed. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’m starving.”

Moxie paused before she entered the kitchen. “Oh, sorry - didn’t you want to tell me something earlier?”

Piper glanced over at her threadbare backpack. The corner of her math exam stuck out of the front pouch. “Oh, it was nothing,” she said. “Here, let me help you with dinner.”

Moxie raised her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Piper smiled.

***

The next couple of weeks passed pretty uneventfully.

Thanks to the five grand Moxie had gotten from Spats, she was able to pay their for rent a year in advance. The landlord knew better than to ask Moxie where she’d found the cash, but his eyes followed her suspiciously as she left his ratty little office. Moxie didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was winning. The feeling was intoxicating.

Charlie didn’t call again, which was fine by Moxie. Despite her determination to take more jobs from Spats, she didn’t feel she was quite ready for another Blue Lily heist just yet. She’d give it a few more days, she thought. Piper’s birthday was fast-approaching, after all. She was turning twelve, and Moxie was determined to make it a special day for her.

Which was why, one afternoon, Moxie paid a visit to a clothing store near the Festival District.

Businesses near the Festival District were much better equipped to detect and deter thieves than many shops in the rest of the city, because the district attracted so many visitors from both in and out of town. Blue Coat officers often guarded the exits of stores, scanning the crowds for signs of shoplifters. Rumor had it that the sunglasses they wore were special ones made by The Clothiers that increased their perception. Whether that was true or not, Moxie had known many amateur thieves who were caught trying to steal from Festival District stores.

For this reason, Moxie didn’t conduct her thieving at these stores. She only visited as a paying customer. That meant that the store owners and employees didn’t look at her with any more suspicion than any other customer when she entered, which was a welcome respite from her usual experience.

The store she had chosen seemed to be a popular one for girls around Piper’s age. Little gaggles of tween girls stood clustered around hat stands that were decorated with pictures of Allie Aleph characters. Many of the girls were already wearing similar hats. Moxie shook her head at the sight of them. I wonder if any of them are the girls who bully Piper, she thought. She wished she knew. She had a way of… convincing… bullies to leave her little sister alone. She’d taught herself how when the two of them were still in the orphanage.

All you had to do was use some Kindness and Reason.

It was, of course, sheer coincidence that Moxie had named her fists Kindness and Reason; her left fist and her right fist, respectively. In the end, most of the orphanage bullies had sure been more Kind and Reasonable toward Piper after Moxie had dealt with them.

Moxie’s gaze moved on from the tween girls, taking in the rest of the store with a thief’s practiced eye. A row of shoe shelves filled about a third of the store beyond, with more hat racks and a meager collection of outer wear comprising the rest of the store’s offerings. Many of the pricier items were attached to their shelves with thin metal cables meant to stop the less determined shoplifters. A lone security camera slowly turned from side to side in the back left corner of the ceiling. On the opposite wall was a large white sign that read, SORRY, NO CLOTHIERS ATTIRE AVAILABLE HERE.

Moxie stared at the sign. The memory of Piper’s words, “Don’t buy me a hat, Moxie,” echoed in her mind, but she ignored them. She was going to buy Piper a hat for her birthday; a better one than any of the other girls at school had. And that was that.

A husky voice from behind her asked, “Help you?”

Moxie turned. The woman who had spoken was a careworn employee whose pinched face and cynical eyes told her entire grueling life story. Moxie smiled. The woman - Mall, her name tag said - didn’t.

“Help you?” Mall asked again, a little less patiently this time.

“Uh, yeah! I’m looking for an Allie Aleph hat for my little sister. It’s for her birthday.”

“Mm, hmm. Did you check over there?” Mall pointed toward the crowd of tween girls.

Moxie pursed her lips. “See, I want to get her a really special one, is the thing. Not just something off the rack, you know?”

“Special,” Mall said. “Okay, follow me.”

Moxie followed Mall to the back store counter. Mall heaved herself into a stool behind the counter and tapped on a computer keyboard, bringing a screen that faced them both perpendicularly to life.

“So, here’s our selection of hats,” Mall droned. “The nicer ones are in this section here. If you want it gift-wrapped, there’s an extra fee. When’s the birthday?”

“Next week.”

“Hmm, that’s too soon, hon. You should’ve come in a week ago.”

“What? Why?”

Mall gave her a level look. “Because, ma’am, all our fancy hats are custom-made to order. They’ve gotta put ‘em together and then ship ‘em here to the store. That all takes time.”

Moxie sighed. Why did I wait so long? Stupid!

Which was hardly fair. For most of the last two weeks, she’d been too nervous about being hunted by Tall Paul’s goons to go out of the apartment. She let out a resigned sigh.

Mall continued, “If you need a hat for next week, you should just get one off the rack. You’re just a kid, your little sister can’t be that old. She’ll never know the difference.”

Wouldn’t she? Moxie wasn’t sure. Maybe Piper really would be perfectly happy with a basic hat off the rack. Goodness knew those would be expensive enough without having something custom-made. But…

NO!

The thought rocked through Moxie’s mind like a shock wave from an explosion. Her jaw tightened. I’m done with living like that. I ran with the mafia and lived, dammit. Piper gets nothing but the best from now on. Her big sister’s a winner, now.

“Look,” Moxie said, “isn’t there anything you can do to help me out here? Can I pay an extra fee to speed it up? I’ve got money.”

Mall hesitated. For the first time, a gentleness broke through her cynical exterior. “Look, hon… Are you sure you want to do that? Really sure? You look like you need the money more than Aleph Corp.’s merchandising department does, no offense.”

“I’m sure.” Moxie smiled, her doubts fully gone.

Mall nodded. “Well… Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, hon. I just wanted to do right by you.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Here’s the thing. If you want the hat to be ready in time, you gotta pay double. And there’s no refunds for a rush job like that. You buy it, you keep it, you get me? Now, do you still want to do this?”

No refunds.

“Yeah,” Moxie said. “I do.”

“Alright, then. Once you pick out a hat, I’ll help you place the order.”

“Thanks, Mall,” Moxie said. She smiled at the careworn woman. Mall just nodded, looking kindly, but a little sadly, at Moxie. Then she walked away to assist another customer, leaving Moxie with the hat selection on the computer screen.

There were over three dozen hat designs to choose from. About half of those designs were similar to the hats on Allie Aleph, and they came in a variety of colors and materials. Moxie’s eyes fell on one in particular: a rather simple brown hat. Something about it arrested her attention in a way none of the others did. Most of the other hats sported Allie Aleph logos or printed designs, and the few that didn’t were downright gaudy. They sparkled with glittery jewel studs, or screamed for attention with loudly colored polka-dots or stripes. None of them felt right. None of them felt like Piper. None of them - except for that one simple brown hat.

That’s the one. Piper’s gonna love it. Moxie smiled as she imagined the way the brown color of the hat would complement Piper’s orange hair.

Moxie waved for Mall to rejoin her. After a moment, the woman came over. “You find one you like?”

“Yeah. This one, please.”

Mall’s eyes flickered from the picture of the hat on the screen to Moxie, then back again. “You sure? It’s kinda plain for the money, hon.”

Moxie smiled. “Yeah. I’m sure. It’s just right.”

“Well, it’s your sister,” Mall said. “Now, what size do you want?”

“Size? Aren’t they all the same?”

Mall shook her head. “The ones off the rack are, but that’s just because of the elastic. The custom-made hats aren’t one-size-fits-all. That’s part of being custom-made, after all.”

“Right.” Moxie racked her brain, trying to determine the right size. At last, she said, “Small size, please.”

Mall’s eyes went to Moxie’s forehead, as though she was measuring her head with imaginary tape. “Hm, that’s probably right. Your little sister’s smaller than you, right?” Moxie nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Small size would be just right for you, so she’ll have some room to grow into it. Alright, I’ll put in the order. That’ll be… one thousand, three hundred and eighty-five.”

Moxie’s heart stopped. Holy shit! That much?!

“Sorry, hon,” Mall said. “Are you really sure about this? Like, really, really sure? You got that kinda money?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Moxie nodded firmly. “Really, really sure,” she said. She counted out the money and offered it to Mall, who took it with a somewhat regretful expression.

Moxie watched the money disappear into the cash register. Only three hundred left from what Spats paid me, she realized. A little chill prickled at the back of her neck. Looks like I’ll have to call Charlie sooner than I thought.

***

Moxie left the clothing store with Mall’s promise that the hat for Piper would arrive within a week. As the careworn store employee watched the young woman walk out the door, she was struck by an odd feeling of premonition.

“That little girl’s about to be in big trouble,” she murmured. Her eyes followed Moxie beyond the store windows as she turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

Mall sighed. “Good luck, hon… I think you’re really gonna need it.”

***

It was late, and Piper had been sound asleep for hours, when Moxie finally called Charlie.

“Well, what the hell do you want?” The mobster jeered.

“Spats said he’d have more work for me.”

“Hmph.”

“Come on, Charlie. I’m sorry, okay? You happy now?”

A puff of static exploded in her ear as the glassy-eyed gangster sighed heavily into the phone. “Whatever. Yeah, I might have a job for ya.”

Moxie’s eyes flashed. Adrenaline flooded her body.

Am I really going to do this?

She stared out the apartment window. Beyond it lay the night glow of Central City. Beyond it lay opportunity. Beyond it, she felt sure, lay her destiny. Danger and darkness cloaked that destiny, but she would be damned if she wasn’t going to grab life by the throat and throttle it until she got what she wanted.

She was done being a loser. She was done scraping by. She was done going hungry. She had tasted power, she had tasted victory, she had tasted freedom. And if Spats Colombo was offering the tickets to a life where she could taste those things again, a life where she and Piper could escape their poverty, a life where she could feel that intoxicating feeling of being a winner again, then she was sure as hell wasn’t going to turn him down…

…No matter what the cost.

She smiled. It was a hard, reckless smile.

“What’s the job?”