Mikhal shushed the children behind him. Then, he cautiously peeked around the corner. They were still there. They had been chasing them for three blocks. All because Jered had punched that rich kid a few days ago. Now, by order of the mayor, all the homeless kids in this area were being rounded up and placed in orphanages or workhouses. They wouldn't last long there. Ari would be sent back to her abusive father, once they figured out that he was a nobleman. Tym, who was sickly, would probably be worked to death. Jered would last the longest. He was a fighter. He would probably manage to run away again. Mikhal would never make it to an orphanage or workhouse. He was too old, he'd be conscripted into the army. The only reason he hadn't left after the order was passed was Jered. His little brother was such a hothead. He didn't blame Jered for punching the mayor's son, the brat had deserved it. He just wished Jered would show restraint once in awhile. Tym and Ari needed him too. They didn't have older siblings, and other groups didn't want the burden of a sick kid and a girl. He couldn't leave. He had hoped to hoard enough supplies to move them to another city, but now they would have to start over.
Art by: John Foster
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