Prologue: Girl with a past.

Lindsay Birch is a girl with a past; she just doesn't know what it is.  As an infant, mere weeks old, Lindsay was left at a small-town fire station in a State where safe haven laws protected her parents' anonymity.  Instantly a 'Ward of the State' the unknown and unnamed baby girl was placed in the foster system.   The only clues to her identity being the clothes she was left in (clean, but generic) and a small white envelope with the handwritten label "My Baby".  Inside the envelope, a curious ring of indeterminate material; red orange/gold and green in color.  Similar in appearance to the mood rings popular with children but of sturdier make and larger, adult size; unlike the dime store frippery.   On the inside band, an inscription, L Birch.  Thus was the child named Lindsay Birch on subsequent legal documentation.

As foster children sadly do, young Lindsay was bounced from family to family, from group home and back throughout her childhood.  She kept with her the mysterious ring.  Worn on this or that small chain, then a leather thong and finally her own hand as she grew.   

Lindsay's Ring

Eventually Lindsay ended up in the home of a rough, uncaring man who kept her around more for the extra booze money the government paid than anything else.  Her bedroom was bare bones, her meals somewhat uncertain.   But Rodney was wily enough to stock the pantry and at least appear sober when the social workers made their scheduled inspections.  As months progressed and a break-up with a girlfriend made Rodney's drinking even worse, he became outright surly and unpleasant.  He began tossing around dark hints about throwing the "other worthless b!tc#" out.  One evening when she was barely fifteen, Rodney raised his right hand as if to strike Lindsay.   Cowering behind the closed door of her room, Lindsay determined that she was no longer safe here.   Further, that she had probably better take matters into her own hands.   With the early maturity of young people from difficult circumstances, Lindsay realized that Rodney could easily make life very unpleasant without guarantee that she would even be removed from his so-called care.  That if she did manage to convince the proper authorities that Rodney was a danger, then she would only be removed to some group home for older fosters with all its own hazards.  It was highly unlikely anyone wanted to adopt a teenager.  So, Lindsay came up with a daring plan.

The next morning, to the loud sounds of Rodney sleeping off his latest bender, Lindsay showered and prepared.  She packed a small bag of toiletries and a tidy stack of extra essentials into her school backpack.  Just a couple pairs of clean underwear, an extra shirt.   Nothing to weigh her down too much or attract attention.   She made sure her cheap eyeglasses and no brand watch were in place and finally checked the ring on her finger.    This was just about the sum of her worldly possessions at any rate and anything left behind was not worth shedding any tears over.   As she mounted her trusty bicycle in the garage, she spotted an army-camouflage colored duffle sitting on a shelf.   This was a one-man tent, infrequently used.  With only a moment's hesitation, Lindsay balanced the small parcel on the handlebars.  With one last, grim nod of determination, Lindsay set off.    Never to return.