A cold breeze swept through the streets, causing many of the inhabitants to pull whatever clothes they had on closer to their freezing bodies. Even though the temperature was low, the marketplace was still filled with people selling, buying, and trading whatever they could to stock up for the winter. But, among those who actually had money, there were a few novice thieves. They would roam about like a buyer would, and, while one of their team distracted a vendor, the other would lift whatever was small and wouldn't be missed. This was how a particular team of two sisters operated. The older one, a girl of twenty-two named Addison, would start up a conversation while her younger sister stole whatever she could get her twelve-year old hands on. There was a big risk in thievery, though. For, in this town, if someone committed a crime, what body part that person used would be cut off. If someone stole, a hand would be amputated. For rape, well, I’m sure you get the idea. But, back to the team of thieving girls.

The day had dragged on to noon and the pair is about to get a hearty lunch of fruit. “Are you sure this is fresh?” Addison demanded hotly. “Everything you see was just picked this morning by me wife,” the man replied, offence lacing his voice. She discreetly made a motion for Martha, the younger one, to begin her theft. “How can I be sure this fruit wasn’t rotting in your garden?”

“Lady, do you see anything wrong with the food?”

“There’s a bruise on this apple.”

“So don’t buy that one!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Addie stole a glance back at Martha, who was clutching two apples, two peaches, and a bundle of grapes. She gave the younger girl a small nod and turned her attention back to the man. “Perhaps I’ll take my business elsewhere!” She exclaimed. “Perhaps you should! Go be someone else’s problem,” he snarled back. With a small huff, she turned and began to walk stiffly to where her sister waited. Martha was carefully stowing stolen food into the woven basket that was laid carelessly in the crook of her arm. “How much did you get?” Addie asked breathlessly.

“Enough,” came the reply. A slow smile spread across the older girl’s face. “Let’s go home,” she said, taking the younger girl’s free hand. “Home” was an alley with a few scattered newspapers and a cardboard box. What were two blossoming girls doing sleeping in an alley? Simple: they were runaways. It was them against a cold, unforgiving world. The pair settled down on the filthy ground and dug into their meals. Outside, everyone passed by, unaware of the suffering that laid between the brick walls.