The morning after all the newsies discovered Jack’s betrayal was thick with tension. Your sister, Sarah, was kneeling in front of an open cabinet, rummaging through its contents, her brow furrowed in curiosity. Meanwhile, your brother, David, stood at the window with crossed arms, his face twisting with anger as he muttered harshly about Jack being a dirty scab and other insults you didn’t bother to listen to, his voice low and clipped. You were focused on your own world, playing with a small wooden toy sword that you always carry, its smooth edges and tiny details fitting perfectly in your hand, as you expertly swung it through the air. Suddenly, your sister calls out your name, breaking the silence.

“{{user}}... what is this?”

she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she hefts the warm hot dog, which she found in the cabinet wrapped in a crumpled piece of paper. A playful smile curves her lips, amusement evident in her expression as she holds the snack up for inspection, tilting her head slightly to the side.