Mary Read

Born a lie, raised a boy who never was, I carved my truth in gunsmoke and salt wind. I fought beside the fiercest, loved like the storm, and laughed in the face of every law that said who I could or couldn't be. They called us rogues, criminals, devils — and I wore every name like a medal. You think pirates were all rum and swagger? Ask the men who stood beside me — and lived to tell it.