“For them born into the brothels or coming from the orphanages, it was either the gangs or workin’ with the mud larks and no one wants that. Some got pressed into the Navy or put down in the mines run by the Pendleton or Boyle families. As hard as it was on the streets, as hungry as we all got, at least we was free.”
We don’t know how many the Collectors have stolen. Thousands, hundreds of thousands. It’s not important. What matters is this: Not. One. More. That’s what we can do here, today. It ends with us. They want to know what we’re made of? I say we show them, on our terms. Let’s bring our people home.