My name is Elizabeth Baker. Ain't ever gonna be nothing different. Ain't ever been anything different.
You might've heard of me. But have you really? Never believe the papers. I'm 29. I am the one who leads the Zuccharo gang, despite what they say. No man controls me. I control them.
For the papers, the easiest story will always be the dashing femme fatale. That ain't ever gonna be the truth. Far from it.
Dashing? Yes, I agree with that. But life ain't glamourous, that's for damn sure.
The papers ain't real life, and they ain't ever gonna be anything close to it. They certainly try, though, and you gotta commend them for that.
They just perceive us a hell of a lot differently than we actually are. Gang life ain't all cigars and machine guns. There's also cards.
But the papers give us respect, and by us, I mean the men. Young boys grow up and try to be like them. Like Jackson. The only laughable part is that Jackson ain't someone most boys wanna be like. Jackson ain't even someone he wants to be like.
It ain't just us that the papers get wrong. They get the others wrong, too. All the others. Of course, none of us can say anything. No, we can't let them know who we really are. We'll let them know under miles of aliases, yeah, but never, ever, real names. That would spell chaos, if not certain death. No one is dumb enough to risk that. It's easier to just hide under a lie than to deal with the list of consequences.
But... I suppose it ain't all that bad. We're like a family, we are. Our gang, at least. We're brothers in arms, all of us united in some strange way. We've grown together, kind of.
And the others... they ain't as bothersome as they seem. Calla ain't that bad, at least. She's good, in a way. She's the one who could've been a detective.
Wish that was me. Well, kind of. Not really. I wouldn't have done well as a detective. They're like a pack, they only travel in groups of five or more. Unlike Calla's detectives. They only go by themselves, I've seen them before. The girl's pretty. The boy... well, he's something.
The papers write about us a lot. Unfortunately. Most of it's Calla, she pulls stunts and tricks like she's Nellie goddamn Bly or something. Everyone loves her, obviously.
I ain't jealous. Calla's just like me. Only better.
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