America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

He will come looking for you. But not now.

Elizabeth gave her final words of advice as the car drove into Brooklyn.

"Until he feels the time is right, you'll need to fend off Walker's retaliation on your own. I'll provide legal assistance and protect the newspaper's machinery, but as for the things that happen on the streets, you'll have to rely on yourself."

The car stopped in front of the Pioneer Newspaper building.

Arthur got out of the car first, then carefully helped Isabella down.

Isabella's emotions had stabilized considerably. Before getting out of the car, she looked back at Elizabeth, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Go back to sleep, kids."

"This world is not just about pleasure and depravity; justice still lives in people's hearts. I hope you can become people who uphold justice."

Then, Elizabeth closed the car door, the Cadillac slowly started, and disappeared into the dark streets of Brooklyn.

Arthur watched the car drive away, then turned and said:

"Go in, Isabella."

Isabella nodded vigorously.

……

After a while.

Arthur Kennedy took off his dark blue tuxedo jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and revealed his long and powerful forearms.

He was adjusting the pressure valve on the printing press.

Isabella Harrison stood to the side, having changed out of her silver-white evening gown and back into her usual simple work dress.

She held a stack of freshly proofread manuscripts in her hand, and her amber eyes looked somewhat tired in the dim light.

Isabella.

Arthur suddenly stopped what he was doing, turned around and looked at her.

"Thank you so much for tonight. If you hadn't contacted Ms. Elizabeth beforehand, things would have been much more complicated."

Isabella's face flushed instantly. She waved her hands frantically, her voice barely audible:

"No... I didn't invite her. My aunt... she just happened to be passing by and heard there was a dance in the central garden, so she wanted to go in and take a look."

Arthur stared at her for a few seconds, a slight smile appearing on his lips:

"You're not good at lying. You informed Ms. Elizabeth after you made an appointment with me to attend the ball, didn't you?"

Isabella bit her lip, her eyes starting to dart away.

She lowered her head, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her skirt, and finally whispered:

"My grandfather was President Benjamin's brother; they shared a common grandfather, William Henry Harrison. My aunt is usually very busy, so I wasn't sure if Aunt Elizabeth would come to help me, which is why I didn't tell you beforehand."

"I just said on the phone that there was a very brave person going to confront Jimmy Walker, and I hoped she could go and see. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble..."

"You didn't cause any trouble, you were a great help."

Arthur stepped forward, his tone sincere.

"You saved me a lot of time and energy. I used to have to figure out how to deal with Walker's security guards, but now it's much easier."

Arthur smiled and comforted Isabella, saying that he was friends with her not because of her money or looks, but simply because he thought she had a good personality and was kind.

This made Isabella blush again.

Then, Arthur walked to the window and looked out at the dark street through the dusty glass.

He could see several figures moving in the shadows across the street; they were probably spies sent by someone.

Arthur said to Isabella:

"The situation is going to get a bit complicated. Jimmy Walker lost face tonight, and he'll definitely retaliate. City Hall will put pressure on me first thing tomorrow morning."

A hint of worry flashed in Isabella's eyes:

"So... what are you planning to do?"

"I'm most likely going to lose my job at The New York Daily News."

Arthur shrugged, looking relaxed.

"Hearst may like sales figures, but he prefers maintaining a good relationship with power. He must have received a call tonight, and I think he'll make me compromise. I might as well go back in time and get my checks."

"But why did you do it? You could have accepted that five thousand dollars and become the deputy minister of the city hall."

"Because it's not worth it."

Arthur smiled, his tone relaxed.

"Five thousand dollars sounds like a lot, but it's just a one-time thing. If I keep writing, I can earn much more than that."

"More importantly, it's not easy to be manipulated by others."

"But... if you don't agree, Hearst will definitely blacklist you. Then you'll have a hard time finding a new job at a newspaper."

Arthur turned to Isabella and smiled, saying:

"So, beautiful Miss Isabella, would you be willing to take in a homeless little editor like me?"

Isabella felt a mixture of joy and unease:

"But the current Vanguard is just a tabloid, far inferior to the New York Daily News. Won't you feel disappointed coming here?"

Arthur looked intently at Isabella's face:

"Let's make a bet: within three months, I will make the Herald the most popular newspaper in New York City."

Isabella was somewhat surprised, hesitated for a moment, and then said firmly:

"I believe in you, but I can't let you work for nothing. I'll pay you the editor-in-chief's salary, how about $100 a week?"

A weekly wage of $100, or about $5400 a year, was more than the income of 80% of American families at the time.

However, Arthur waved his hand.

"I don't need such a high salary, just room and board are enough."

Isabella was even more surprised:

"But...but...I can't treat you like this. How can you live like this?"

Arthur smiled.

"Then I can only ask the boss lady to provide me with food and lodging. I have an idea that, if I succeed, should be able to increase the newspaper's sales several times over. At that time, please give me some shares in the newspaper. I want to be able to speak freely in my own newspaper without having to worry about what my superiors think."

Isabella agreed almost without hesitation, and offered to give Arthur half of the shares if he succeeded.

The one who was surprised became Arthur.

"Isabella, I don't know what to say. You've given me a wonderful surprise."

Isabella lowered her head and said softly:

"Because you deserve it."

Arthur was stunned.

After a while, he walked to the table, took out a brown paper bag from his pocket, and handed it to Isabella.

"Here's a manuscript, the latest one I conceived at the dance tonight. It's titled 'The Patron Saint Who Moves.' This is my first manuscript for our newspaper."

"This is also my test, continuing towards Jimmy Walker, and also towards that big shot."

Isabella looked at Arthur, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

Arthur looked at Isabella with a hint of relief in his eyes.

"If everything goes well tomorrow, I'll buy you a coffee as a way of celebrating another win in this game."

Isabella blushed again, lowered her head, and whispered:

"Then...then I'll wait for your call."

As Arthur looked at Isabella's face, a sense of peace welled up inside him.