Lirssa had a whole day with nothing planned. It had the tingling familiarity of her street days to it, but without the achy morning rise of a night cobble bedding it or the pang of a stomach urging her to find food. She stretched out her rising in the luxurious comforts of home, filled her belly with pancakes, pulled on clothes that were neither worn nor the wrong size, and with Dante at her side gave her farewells and went down the many stairs to explore the city on her bicycle.

She had a goal in mind, though. A full day with nothing planned never lasted long. Plans formed and that day the plan was quick to make itself apparent. It was time to raid Mrs Kate's closets and dungeons-kept old chests.

The months spent at Mrs Kate's palace Lirssa had done some exploring, searched through various trunks abandoned to time and dark corners. There were three Lirssa had moved to a side of the room to return to when the world lightened and life did not have the pall of fear and death. When Chris let her in, she went straight to that room and was relieved to find the trunks not moved.

With a creak of hinges, she lifted the lids to reveal the luminous costume ball gowns and ornaments collected over a long lived lifetime. Dante nosed his way through the bundles of clothing while Lirssa started her selections. They had to be just the right ones to be convincing, but not overwhelming; good condition but not perfect. The last was hard to find. It still amazed Lirssa how a person could afford so much clothing to wear only once or twice. So many of the gowns she pulled out looked pristine. Not even the usual evidence of nibbling bugs or rodents was seen.

Chris provided an old double satchel meant to rest astride a horse, and Lirssa placed three costumed gowns on each side. With great care to her balance on the bicycle, she peddled her way through the crowds of the street to Second Chances. As she rode, darting around horses, carts, cars, motorcycles and the few ground running hover crafts, she smiled up at the warming sun and realized she could have been earning some coin at the Marketplace with tumbling. She needed to freshen up her routine though, as cute was not going to cut it anymore. It needed to be a bit more grown up, a little more daring. Maybe she could ride her bicycle on a rope.

She would think about that later. Second Chances had been the idea of her mother and brought to life by Kendall. It was time for Lirssa to do her part more than just giving a good talk to some of the street kids about how it could get them earning coin and a place to live.

The building had its height bolstered by its neighbors. A sturdy patriarch of the West End all brick and iron stairwells for fire escape. The sign that hung over the door had no words, just a display of four cards, the 2s from each suit of a Terran deck. The door itself had painted in simple white lettering, Second Chances.

Beyond that door was the consignment shop which was where the bulk of the jobs kids boarding at the youth hostel made their money. Beyond the baskets of knickknacks and the racks of clothing was a desk where two girls stood folding towels. Lirssa gave smiles and waves to them that were returned with wary nods. She knew of them, but not well. They had run with different crowds in the city " the darker sinister crowds Lirssa had managed to avoid. Avoid because Bubber had taught her a legal skill. Avoid because the players of the theatre troupe had given her stories and encouraged her imagination so she could weave a good tale.

Pushing at the daunting feeling, Lirssa adjusted the satchel on her shoulder and continued past the shop to the back door leading to the residents" quarters. The registration desk was manned by Ollie. A scrappy black headed boy with eyes like coals and a crooked toothed grin out of an olive complexioned face. "Whatcher, Lir. Ye bein" the ole pony express?"

"Huh?" Lirssa stopped and dropped the satchel to the floor.

He laughed and shook his head. "Nevermind. What's the shake?"

"Got somewhat here to add to the shop. Fancy stuff. Myrtle or Beanie in?"

"Sure. Want me to give a ring up?"

Just as Lirssa was going to answer, down the steps came one of the smaller gangs that had decided to take advantage of Second Chances. Their leader was a boy called Angus. If Lirssa could just get Kendall to turn Angus into a real ally, he could have helped them get so many more kids off the streets and into positions of earning honest coin. Instead, he prided himself on playing just by the rules. He worked just enough to earn a bunk in one of the dorm rooms. He spread his caustic disgruntled ideas among the others. He was still a taker, a leech, that barely gave any good for his being there.

"What's this, Splinter" Annoying us real street kids again with yer jabber?" He swooped down to snatch up the satchel and pull out a corner of one of the gowns. "More garbage for us to pawn off" Ain't you gonna ever get it' Nobody's gonna buy from us."

Ollie must have done the ring up anyway, and from the way Myrtle and Beanie rushed down the stairs with seven other teenagers and kids lining the railing of the stairs behind them, Ollie had given more than just a word to meet Lirssa downstairs.

"Are you just thick in the head, Angus?" Lirssa jerked the satchel from him, the weight of it swinging her back a little on her feet. "Nobody is making you stay here, you know. These gowns people will want. Maybe even someone here might want to size it down to fit and use it to get a nice job at a place. A job, you know, where you work and earn money without worrying if a Nabber's "round the corner gonna lock you up for days in the stink holes and grate cages."

Angus glowered and loomed over Lirssa, his hands curling into fists. "I go where I like, Splinter. Always have and always will."

"Not here ya don't." Lirssa was going to stand her ground even though everything in her said to let it go, make nice, and leave it. She could not have it.

Grabbing at the gown from the open satchel, Angus shook it at her. "You think givin" us pretty togs to sell is going to make people look at us differently' You think anyone cares a jot' They want us out there. They want us bein" in the streets doin" their work on the cheap, gettin" what they're too scared to get for themselves. Better dosh than these things any day." And he tore at the seams of the dress.

There was more than a dress being torn in front of her. It was the fabric of possibility and a trust given to Lirssa. She growled and pulled the dress back. "Give it over and leave off, you."

The others started to beg off or encourage the tussle as Lirssa kept struggling to get the dress out of Angus's hands. She could see his frustrated surprise that she was as strong as she was and he pulled harder. She pulled right back.

Letting the dress go on his next yank sent him tumbling backwards to hit the edge of the doorway. Whatever the argument had been about before, it was now just a matter of pride. Angus sprang at her, and Lirssa dodged out of the way only to be grabbed up by one of Angus's chums.

"Hey now, that's not the rules, ya hear!" Ollie called to the boy.

Lirssa was not about to have a full out brou-ha-ha in the middle of Second Chances. "Stay back, Ollie," she yelled to Ollie, and she did what she always did when worse came to worse. She fought dirty.

Using her acrobatic abilities, she twisted just enough so she could kick a leg back and up, striking the boy holding her in the back of the head. Surprised more than truly hurt by the glancing blow, he let her go. With that freedom she launched herself at Angus, using moves she had seen her parents use in practice. A punch at his chest to knocked the wind out of him. In a fast turn, she swept his legs out from underneath him.

Angus was a scrapper of the streets, though, and with blinking, half focused eyes he swung out just as he went down, catching Lirssa on the cheekbone in her turn to check on the other boy. The shudder of pain brought into bright focus just what she was doing.

"Just what is going on here?" The barked question echoed down the stairway bringing Angus and his friend to their own halt.

The crowd shuffled in their silence as Xe moved around them to stop between Angus and Lirssa, looking from one to another for an explanation. She had the cool, calm expression of one who was learning what she needed to know from the silence and the way everyone stood and looked. Lirssa just went to claim the dress, pushing it back in the satchel with the others.

"I bet you could have taken "em," Ollie whispered.

"That's not what we do here." Lirssa was so mad at Angus and at herself. The throb in her cheek was a warning to what she had started. She was supposed to set a good example, and the callous words of one kid had set her off. Or maybe it was the tearing of the dress. Or maybe it was she feared he was right. "We aren't here to bring the scrapping and fighting and cheating into another place. We're here to stop letting the streets tell us who we are and what we can do or be."

"We're street kids, not you. Stop using "we" like you belong. We're orphans or the children of those that just don't care." Angus's voice was light as he rubbed his chest and the obvious pain there from her strike.

"Some folks do care, though. If you don't, you can just be on your merry. We can use the room for others who want to learn how to do something."

Xe lifted her hands, hands that had been years at the art of pickpocketing, to gain the attention of the group that was starting to fret. "Everyone, listen: We're going to have true artists and scholars coming in once a week to teach you all how to do things. This week we'll have a seamstress who does all the clothes for fancy ladies. You know, the ones we used to snitch their beaded purses?" She gave them smiles of understanding and sympathy. Unlike Lirssa, Xe had truly lived their lives. "What's the better thing" Having the coin handed to you in thanks or you tempting the sharp hand of the Nabber at your collar?"

Angus looked like he wanted to say something more. They all had felt the hand of a Watchman or private guards clamp on necks or arms at one time or another. Even Lirssa had once, but that was to keep her from beating a fingerman with a frying pan. No matter what the temperature of the Nabber's hand was, it always felt cold. A cold that racked the spine and trembled the heart.

With a deep breath, Lirssa calmed down, but she met his eye, stare for stare. "Help out or get out, Angus. That's the plain truth of it."

Angus shoved her hard and passed by, heaving a clothing rack over as he made his way out. Only a few of his new cronies followed. Xe gave Lirssa a look, the tribal tattoo on the young woman's neck contorted when she looked over her shoulder. "Ollie, open up those beds to others." Without another word, she stepped into the consignment shop to help get the clothing rack on its feet and clean up the mess.

One of the boys that stayed looked down at the opened satchel. Lirssa did not know his name. "If we set them aside, like the merchants set aside their best wares, behind glass or something, I bet we could get a good price for them."

A smile crept across Lirssa's face adding a new wave of pain from her cheek. "Good thinking."

Myrtle and Beanie approached and drew out the gowns where the gathering began to chatter in earnest about what they could do and sure they could mend the torn one to look like new, expressing unspoken tiny talents in stitching they had or other crafts such as carving or art. The excited grins almost banished the troubling hurt at the way Angus had left. Lirssa looked to that door and sighed at the trouble that had walked out of it.