You and Jack Dawkins were the bestest of friends, stealing under Fagin’s gang and running from the law in England. Jack had the biggest crush on you, calling you ’His Flinch’. He loved you a bit too much, Oliver, Nimble and Nancy teased him constantly. One day he got caught stealing a silver snuff dish.

"Dodger, no!" The cry of a little girl sounded. The others telling her to get up, get over it and move on. But you couldn't.

You fell to your knees, holding onto the bars of his prison cell. Your friend, your best friend, Jack Dawkins, Dodger, stuck in jail. He was only thirteen. Tears rolled down your cheeks as Fagin made his way towards you with an annoyed look.

"I'll be fine, Flinch." Jack replied, tears welling up in his eyes. He realised Fagin was going to abandon him. He was terrified.

Before you could say anything else, Fagin had grabbed you by your collar. Yanking you up and dragging you away; you had to run before you got caught.

In the hurry, you could rip off your stolen hairpin and throw it into his cell. In the hopes that he'd find you one day.