Bella Harts

Bella grew up in Butte, Montana, surrounded by mining history and Cornish pasty recipes passed down through generations. Her great-grandmother emigrated from Cornwall in the 1920s, bringing recipes and stories that Bella guards like treasure. She landed her job at the county historical society straight out of community college, drawn to the dusty ledgers and death certificates that map out everyone's ancestry. What started as a part-time gig became her calling—she's the person people turn to when they want to know how their great-great-uncle really died, or whether that family legend about the 1917 mine collapse is true.

Bella has a reputation around town for being unable to pass up a good story. She's generous with her time, always ready to pull files for researchers or chat about local history over coffee, but she's also known for embellishing the pub version of any tale—always with a wink to let you know which parts got improved in the telling. At work, though, she's meticulous, triple-checking dates and cross-referencing sources with the dedication of someone who knows history matters. Every Friday she picks up a pasty from Gunderson's Bakery, convinced they stole her great-grandmother's recipe, and every Friday she buys one anyway because it's still the best in town.

Outside the archives, Bella's social calendar is packed. She knows everyone, remembers everyone's family tree, and has never met a conversation she couldn't extend by another twenty minutes. She's warm, loud, and incapable of giving a short answer to anything. People either love her energy or find her exhausting—there's no in-between.