Know My Name - a RDR2 Story

Saint Denis, Circa 1878

Let me tell you a story about a young woman who fell into two crowds: the good and the bad.
Of course, there are pros and cons to each category, but I suppose it only depends on the way you look at it...

TW!: mentions of guns, kidnapping

I bet y'all we waiting for this, weren't you?

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May 1878

512 Chicanery Boulevard

Saint Denis

Or was it 'San Deni'? Perhaps 'Sain Deni'? She had heard it all three ways simply by walking around town. Not alone, of course. She was too young and too curious for her own good to be able to wander the streets alone. There were all sorts of people out there--good and bad--but she was raised to only follow in the footsteps of her parents.
What were their names again?

She wore a light purple dress, one that fell only an inch beneath her knees, and accompanied it with a pair of black shoes. No matter what she wore, the little girl always seemed to stand out in the crowd. Was it because of her pitch-black hair? Or maybe her bright emerald eyes set her apart from everyone else? No; it was because of her last name. 'Shaull'. Her father was a very successful banker who owned his own companies from France all the way into the America's. He was known from overseas to be one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the Eastern United States, running right up with all the other big entrepreneurs. J.P. Morgan, Leviticus Cornwall, Cornelius Vanderbilt, even John D. Rockefeller.

Of course, being a banker in the 19th century wasn't as easy as it sounded. Most people believed that banks were corrupt government organizations just trying to steal their precious tax dollars to benefit themselves. Seeing as how before 1776, Great Britian used the exact same method, it wasn't delirious for American citizens to be cautious of national banks; years of repression caused all sorts of panic and people spiraled out of control. Mr. Shaull used to say that the reason it was tougher to grow in America was because of the Civil War they had in the early 1860s, but that was no excuse.

The little girl with black hair walked alongside her mother's midwife, the exact same one that had helped deliver Kambria Shaull. Mrs. Shaull decided that because of her dedication and the sway she had with children, she'd offer her a job as a full-time helper while her mother recovered from childbirth. The midwife helped to calm the newborn every night while the parents caught up from lack of sleep; some thought this was a good idea, others not so much. There was, however, a bond that formed between the baby and midwife--one that could only be gained subconsciously from caretaking.
For as long as Kambria could remember, the midwife was always around her corner; making sure she didn't get into too much trouble.

"Come now, Kambria. We mustn't dilly dally in the streets for too long." Mrs... Le... Levine? That sounded right. She was a stout woman, standing at about 5'2" at most, and Kambria was already eye level with her. Despite being the same height, Kambria could barely make out the woman's face; it all seemed to mash together in the same tone of tan. For a 13-year-old girl, she was expected to stop at that height, maybe an inch taller if she was lucky. One might say she was lucky in the end; expected to stop at 5'2", and instead grew into a giant that walked at a confident 5'9".
For now, though, she stayed on the shorter end of the stick.

"Must I go to violin practice? The instructor is so... monotonous." the early teenager complained. She had been attending these violin practice classes for what seemed like ages, although in reality it was more like 4 years. She was good, or at least that's what everyone else told her.