A firey-haired lass searching for who she is and where she belongs.
Liberty’s oldest memory is waking up in excrutiating pain and seeing through swollen eyelids a doctor examing her and asking her what her name was. Still trying to answer that question, Liberty has headed west to find that and other answers about her past. Her only clues are the items the doctor and brothel madam said were on her; carrying these with her Liberty hopes to find out who she is, why she was left for dead after being brutally beaten and why no one looked for her.
A dance hall ticket stub that has the name of the town Lazarus on it makes her wonder if she lived there. She wonders if the dirty photograph of a five-story brick mansion is her home. She hopes that the engagement ring was hers; engraved on the inside of the band is an oath every girl dreams of hearing from her prince: “Our love is as eternal as the heavens. -B.B.” The ripped brocade kerchief attached to an antique brooch she can only assume is a family heirloom, while she wonders why she has a newspaper clipping from Lazarus from six months before she was found, now over a year old.