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Signor Carlotti cheat her, either And she would have found some way to save Pietro from the padrone. . ..
    But she knew none of that was true. The old Bella was courageous and daring and fierce only because she hadn’t known any better. She hadn’t known any better than to come to America.
    That was worth it,
she thought, blinking away tears.
It’s worth it to work so hard, to be so hungry and tired and cold. Everything’s worth it as long as my family has food.
    But that was hard to believe when the wires squirmed in her hands, when Signor Luciano and Nico leered at her, when Signora Luciano yelled at her, when everyone she loved was so far away.
    When she felt so completely and utterly alone.

Yetta
    W e should have asked her about joining the union,” Yetta said.
    Rahel gave her a sidelong glance.
    â€œThat girl was worried sick over her boyfriend—couldn’t you see?” Rahel said. “She was in no frame of mind to hear about her rights as a worker, her importance to the union. And I don’t think she understands English.”
    â€œIt was her brother she was waiting for—brother or cousin or something like that,” Yetta said.
    â€œOh, Yetta, didn’t you see the look on her face? That girl’s in love.”
    Yetta hated this, when Rahel made her feel like a little child who knew nothing of the world.
    â€œThe union’s more important than love,” Yetta said stubbornly.
    â€œYetta, Yetta, Yetta,” Rahel said in a singsongy voice, playfully swinging around a lamppost. “Let’s see what you say when you fall in love.”
    â€œWon’t happen,” Yetta said.
    Rahel snickered in response and skipped ahead. It was a cold night, but they were both in high spirits because they’d just come from a lecture by a famous socialist. They’d heardhow the workers really had all the power, so much more than the bosses—all they had to do was unite. Several other girls from Triangle had been in the audience, girls who nodded and clapped at all the same moments that Rahel and Yetta nodded and clapped. They’d felt united, there.
    â€œIf the Italian girls knew what was good for them, they’d want to join the union too,” Yetta said. “I think that was the girl who got cheated today.”
    â€œWho hasn’t been cheated?” Rahel said, spinning back around to face Yetta. “Who hasn’t had their pay docked for being a minute late? Who hasn’t had the clock set back on them, so you work and work and work and quitting time never comes? Who hasn’t been forced to work overtime for no pay, and been told, Oh, here, you can have an apple turnover for your supper—aren’t we generous?’ Three hours overtime, and all you get is a measly turnover! Who hasn’t had a supervisor follow them to the bathroom and say, You’re taking too long in there! You’re stealing time from the company!’ Who hasn’t been charged for the electricity, for thread, for needles? Who hasn’t been charged for torn shirtwaists that the contractor himself ripped?”
    â€œRahel for union leader!” Yetta cheered, her voice echoing slightly off the tenements around them.
    Rahel laughed.
    â€œOh, you know they’d never let a girl be in charge,” she said. “Those big union men, they look at us like we’ve got fluff for brains, and they pat our heads and say, ‘Now, now, you know it’s impossible to organize girls. They’re just working for pin money, just working until they get married. Girls can’t be depended on in a union.’”
    â€œThen fight the union men,” Yetta said. “Fight the unionmen, fight the bosses—fight the world!”
    Rahel looped her arm through her sister’s.
    â€œYou would, wouldn’t you?” she said, laughing again.
    They’d crossed over now from the section where mostly Italian people lived, to an area