<span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'">The young woman walked down the street humming softly to herself. She was relieved her classes were over for the day and now she could really go do what she really craved...singing.<br/>
<br/>
"Lettie! Lettie! Girl ya head up in those clouds again?"<br/>
<br/>
She blinked looking up and down the street. An older gentleman was sweeping on a store front on the corner of the street. She ran over waving. "Hello Mr. Evans. How are you today? Business doin' good?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just fine Ms. Lettie. How's ya Pa?" <br/>
<br/>
"Great. My Papa doing well. The shop is booming. The bakery keeps running out of beignets."<br/>
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Mr. Evans chuckled. "If I ever got that recipe from ya mama, I'd be a rich man by now. You New Orleans gon run Harlem soon enough."<br/>
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Lettie giggled swinging her bag. "Mr. Evans you're a sweetheart. I'll be sure to bring you some in the morning 'fore I come to the schoolhouse."<br/>
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He tipped his hat. "You a mighty fine gal Miss Moreau. When a man gonna sweep you up?"<br/>
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She laughed again walking down the street. "Not any time soon. Unless they wanna meet the end of Papa's barrel."<br/>
<br/>
~*~<br/>
<br/>
<b>Rose Noir </b><br/>
<br/>
Lettie could see her mother, Estelle in the bakery store window finishing up her duties for the day. Her older sister, Annette and younger sister, Aimee helped around the bakery when they had free time when their father was practicing with his band at dusk. Their brothers Marcel and Rene ran business in club with their father, Baptiste. Lettie was the only one involved in the Rose Noir activities, much to Estelle's displeasure.  But even she couldn't deny that her daughter had a gift. The woman could sing. Her voice along with her father's band entranced the audiences every single night. People swarmed the club to listen and drink the finest booze this Harlem speakeasy had to offer.<br/>
<br/>
The Moreaus lived in a decent sized brownstone away from their businesses, using the bakery as a way to keep money 'clean'. Rene made sure the alcohol coming in was shipped with the goods used for the bakery. No one was none the wiser. Lettie pushed the door to the bakery opened as the chimes rang gently on the door. Aimee stopped cleaning the tables and ran over to her. "Sœur! Manman finished your dress for tonight!"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh did she?"<br/>
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Annette placed the bread on the racks and wiped her hands on her apron. "Papa's down in the club rehearsing. Mama went home to rest. I put your dress down in your dressing room."<br/>
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Lettie plucked a piece of bread from the shelf and popped a piece in her mouth. "Where are the boys?"<br/>
<br/>
"Waiting on one more order for tonight. I heard Papa say he was using a new guy...Lettie!"<br/>
<br/>
She took off towards the back and down the stairs to entrance of the club. Her brothers were sitting at the bar talking quietly to themselves while Baptiste played on the stage. He waved to her and went back to his scales. She pulled Marcel's ear playfully before sitting down on one of the stools. "Bonjour."<br/>
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"Bonjour Lettie. Ready for tonight?"<br/>
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She shrugged. "As always. I heard you were waiting for the new rum runner."<br/>
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Rene scowled crossing his arms. "Annette talks too much. What's it to you little song bird? You should be resting your voice."<br/>
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She pouted making her bright green eyes widened. "I promise to just watch. I won't say nothin'. Please!"<br/>
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Rene sighed in defeat and turned to Marcel. "This is your fault. You spoil her."<br/>
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Marcel groaned giving her cheek a pinch. "Fine. Stay quiet, but don't tell Papa. He'll have our heads. Got it?" She clapped her hands nodding as she sat with them waiting for the guy to arrive.</span>