Chapter 1 
As she gazed out at the ravaged landscape, Olivia Fletcher felt the weight of her exhaustion like a  physical force dragging her down into the dusty earth. Five years of constant strife—of strategizing  and problem-solving, of rising and failing—had all taken its toll. She longed for a life of quiet  contemplation, of peaceful days spent in a garden or a library, free from the constant din of conflict. 

But that life seemed as distant as a dream. The struggle between Cygnus and Elyria showed no signs  of abating, and Olivia’s skills as a mediator and leader were still desperately needed. She felt like a  worn-out tool, perpetually called upon to fix the unfixable, to bridge the unbridgeable gaps between  sworn enemies. 

And yet, despite her fatigue, Olivia couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that had haunted her for  so long. Was she truly making a difference, or was she just a band-aid on a bullet wound? Did she  have the strength and wisdom to bring peace to this shattered world, or was she just a fraud waiting  to be exposed? The doubts swirled in her mind like a toxic fog, threatening to consume her at any  moment. 

As the war drums beat louder, Olivia knew she couldn’t afford to indulge in her uncertainty. She  took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped forward into the fray once more. But the  questions lingered, echoing in her mind like a whispered mantra: What if I’m not enough? What if I  fail? What if…? 

 

Chapter 18 
Obsession is the key to victory. And Alexandra was obsessed. She would hunt down the guys who  had hurt Irene, and they would pay a price for what they’d done. And, as for the message—the  message intended for a small group of “uppity women”—she would reply. Her reply would make it  clear to the men and women of Cygnus that life here would be different from now on. The belief  that some men harbored—that they could do as they pleased to the women of Cygnus—would be a  thing of the past.  

That the guy who had begun this descent into hell was the same who had made the mistake of  sidling up to Alexandra the day they arrived in Cygnus didn’t surprise her. Roberta had told her  where he lived with his two brothers—a ramshackle log cabin on the outskirts of town. It might  have made sense for her to cool off a bit, to think it through, to plan her attack. But her rage had  taken over. She knew what she had to do, and there was no time like the present.  

Jesse Michaels was outside the cabin when Alexandra arrived. He was splitting logs and wielding an  axe like he had had one in his hands since birth. When he saw Alexandra approaching, he smirked  like he was expecting her. He tossed the axe from one hand to the other and back again. Then he  twirled it over his head like a baton. 

He grasped the handle as she approached like he was about to chop down a mighty oak. Undeterred,  Alexandra ran at him and then ducked under the swing of the axe, performing a leg sweep as she  went down. The tactic worked. Jesse fell backward, landing flat on his back and striking his head on  the ground. Miraculously, he held onto his axe as he rolled away from Alexandra. He rose quickly,  but Alexandra was quicker. By the time he raised the axe again, she was too close for the long handle  to do any damage. He attempted to butt her with the end of the handle, but she punched him in his  solar plexus before he could finish his move. He doubled over, and Alexandra kicked his face as he  was going down.  

Her next blow could be fatal. She hesitated, wondering if she wanted to kill him—wondering what  might happen to her if she did. Her wondering was abruptly interrupted by the skyward blast of a  shotgun. She turned to see Jesse’s brothers, one of whom held a 12-gauge pointed directly at her.  

“Don’t move,” he said. “Strike another blow, and it will be your last.”  

Angus Kane’s arrival, with two of his deputies, could not have been better timed. His pickup  skidded to a halt about twenty feet from the two brothers.  

“Drop your weapon, Sebastian,” he said as he withdrew his sidearm from its holster. Without  looking away from Sebastian, he said to Alexandra, “I’ll take it from here.”  

“And how will justice be served, Angus?” she asked him. “Men like this shouldn’t be walking free…  breathing the same air as the rest of us.”  

“Yeah,” he replied, “I get that. But, believe it or not, we have laws here. And he’ll be punished.”  “That’s what you said the last time,” she replied, recalling his words the day she arrived in Cygnus.  

“Yeah, but that was a minor transgression compared to this,” he said. “He’ll be locked up for a long  time… and if you take this vigilantism any further, you’ll be in a cell next to him.”  

Her rage hadn’t entirely dissipated. She could feel it swelling in her chest, pounding in her ears,  coursing through her veins. But she knew he was right. However much she wanted Jesse Michaels  dead, she knew she couldn’t be his judge, jury, and executioner. The law would prevail, even in  Cygnus.  

 

Chapter 35 
Something inside Olivia had come unmoored during the previous night’s adventure. She had spent  her entire life standing in the background—supporting someone else. When she moved to Elyria,  she had simply traded Alexandra for Michael, a man she admired. Following Michael’s death, she  looked toward Stewart for direction. It was a lifelong habit. She had always been the brains, the  intellectual, the voice of reason, supporting a leader.  

But Stewart’s failure—his breakdown in the face of danger—had required her to step up. She had  always been able to offer a lightning-fast summation of ideas and possible consequences and 

recommend action. Last night was the first time she could remember having to take charge—not  only to recommend a course of action but to act upon it. It was a revelation.  

The bureaucrats surrounding Stewart had hastily organized a Board of Review. Despite Stewart’s  vigorous assertions that she would be his closest advisor, she was not invited to join the board.  

Instead, she was invited to testify. As she turned the corner down the long passageway to the  conference room, she realized that Stewart might be playing Pontius Pilate. Whatever wrongdoing  the board might find wouldn’t be blamed on him.  

She waited for her anxiety to kick in, as it always did at times like this. She always worried about the  worst possible outcomes of any crisis. That’s what made her a great analyst. Prepare for the worst  and hope for the best. That had been her mantra. Yet, on this day, her anxiety had gone AWOL. She  felt nothing but calm as Rebecca opened the door for her to enter the chamber.  

 

Chapter 51 
A certain lack of decorum prevailed in Cygnus. Adherence to protocol was among its victims—even  in the sheriff’s office. So, Alexandra had become accustomed to finding someone sitting in her office  when she arrived for her shift. But nothing could have prepared her for Ruth Ann Kane. Angus’  sister sat in the chair opposite Alexandra’s desk, the spike-heeled foot of her crossed leg bobbing  rapidly. Ruth Ann wore a mini-skirt, the likes of which Alexandra had not seen since she had arrived  in Wyoming. She was bedecked in fur and jewelry, and her hair was permed so ferociously that it  looked like one of those balls of wire you use to scrub pans.  

Two young women, who Alexandra soon learned were Ruth Ann’s twin daughters, stood in the  background teasing each other mercilessly. Their wardrobe could only be described as new-age  slut—lacking the tight fit of their mother’s outfit but, nevertheless, showing enough cleavage to  arouse any man’s inner ape.  

“Shut up, you two,” Ruth Ann scolded before introducing herself to Alexandra.  

The girls obeyed for about twenty seconds before continuing their squabbling. Alexandra was sure  the daughters were a great comfort to their mother, were she the type to find comfort in a bag of  wet cats.  

“How can I help you, Ms. Kane?” Alexandra asked, doing her level best to maintain her cool. She  would have preferred to start this meeting by selecting one of the twins to put over her knee.  

“Oh, Honey… call me Ruth Ann.”  

“Okay… sure… How can I help you, Ruth Ann?” 

“It’s my brother’s estate,” she began. “I’m being cheated.”  

Alexandra paused for a few beats before responding. “Well, that’s not a matter for the sheriff, Ruth  Ann,” she said. “I think you need a lawyer…” 

“I know that,” Ruth Ann snapped, her face reddening and flecks of spit escaping from the corners  of her mouth. “I’m here to help you help me.”  

Alexandra waited for the fog to clear so her brain’s navigator could find its way through this  conversation. Her natural instinct was to respond in kind. But she held back for reasons she couldn’t  put her finger on. She didn’t know what to say next. She opened her mouth and shut it twice before  Ruth Ann put her out of her misery. 

“I’ve got the goods on Oliver Grimes,” she said.  

“The goods?” 

“Yeah… the goods… you know, the evidence that will sink him,” she said. “You wanna do that,  right, Sheriff? Sink him?” 

Alexandra inhaled sharply. There was an explosion in her brain—the good sort—the type that  carries more possibilities than she could imagine. She knew she had to listen to what Ruth Ann said  before being confident she had “the goods.” Yet, it was all she could do to hide her glee from her  guest. 

“If there is clear evidence that a crime has been committed,” she began after a deep breath. “Then,  yes, I would like to hear about it.”  

“Evidence… Yeah, I’ve got evidence,” Ruth Ann replied, pulling a thumb drive out of her bra.  “Bribery, embezzlement, vote buying… It’s all there, Sheriff.” Then she slid the device back into its  hiding place.  

 

Chapter 56 
The pounding on Olivia’s front door awoke her at—what time was it? The digital clock on her  nightstand said 3:17 a.m. What the hell is going on?  

She pulled on a robe and stumbled toward the foyer, stubbing her toe on a chair leg en route. She  swore under her breath. There were flashing lights in her driveway. The side of the SUV was  emblazoned CYGNUS POLICE. Was it Alexandra?  

The pounding continued, echoing in her vaulted ceiling.  

“Okay, okay,” she said, her voice hoarse from sleep.  

“Sergeant Cynthia Martinez, ma’am,” said the stocky police officer when she swung the door open.  “Sorry to be pounding on your door. We tried calling.”  

“Turned my phone off,” she replied, still trying to overcome the sleep fog. “What? I mean, why…  why are you here?”  

“They’re coming for you,” Martinez said.

“They?… Who?… I mean, who are ‘they?’ And why are they coming for me?” Olivia stuttered.  Martinez held an AR-18 in her left hand. She pulled her standard-issue sidearm from its holster and  handed it to Olivia.  

Olivia stared at the gun in her hand as if it might tell her what to do next. She had handled guns  before. She’d been in battle. She knew what to do, didn’t she? She felt the supercomputer part of her  brain switch off and the primitive part take its place. Her heart began beating a little faster.  

“I’m not sure how many there are,” Martinez said as she scanned the living room and walked toward  the back of the house. Then she turned toward Olivia and added, “Too many windows. We need to  hide.”  

“Basement,” Olivia replied. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel beads of sweat forming on  her forehead. “The best place to hide is the basement.”  

“Let’s go,” Martinez replied. As they headed for the basement door, she answered Olivia’s question.  “A small group of guys… commandos… three or four… maybe five. We assume they’ve been  ordered by the same person who ordered Eric de la Rocha’s death.”  

“And, who’s that?” Olivia asked over her shoulder as she descended the stairs two steps at a time.  

“We think it’s Oliver Grimes,” Martinez answered. “At least, that’s what Alexandra thinks. But we  have no evidence connecting him to it.”  

“Speaking of Alexandra…” Olivia began.  

“She’s on her way. I got a call from one of my officers saying he had spotted some suspicious  activity… guys dressed in black, loading weapons into the back of a truck. So, I headed here right  away. I called Alexandra… woke her up. She’ll be right behind me.” 

A crash above told them someone had entered the house. Martinez turned toward Olivia and said,  “I’m going up. Keep your back to the wall.” She took one last look at Olivia and added, “Don’t be  afraid to use that weapon. The safety’s off.”  

She waited a moment, not disengaging, until Olivia nodded her agreement. Then she handed Olivia  her phone and said, “Call the emergency number. It will connect you with reinforcements from  Elyria.” 

Olivia nodded again and felt her head wobble from the effort. Her hand trembled slightly as she  dialed the number Martinez had given her. She rehearsed the words she would say when someone  answered and hoped the cavalry would show up before it was too late.  

 

Chapter 58 (Spoiler)
Scanning the crowd, seeing so many familiar faces, was the salve that Olivia needed. Her journey  had taken her from foster homes to the military to myriad adventures—adventures with the one  person whose face she didn’t see in the crowd. She and Alexandra had charted their course together.  They had suffered setbacks and risen to every challenge side by side, never wavering or questioning  their loyalty to one another—until they arrived in Jackson Hole.  

Was losing her friendship with Alexandra the price she had to pay for success, for gaining self confidence, for overcoming her anxiety?  

And then, she saw her.  

Alexandra stood sheepishly off to the side, leaning against the wall, arms folded, tears streaming  down her cheeks. Olivia stepped off the stage, walked toward her friend, her soulmate, and stood  awkwardly facing her. A heavy fog had hung over them for what felt like an eternity. But, at this  moment, something shifted—a weight had been taken off their shoulders. The air vibrated with the  unspoken question. Would they reconcile, or would the rift between them prove too wide to bridge? 

The hug, when it came, was tentative at first. But as they wrapped their arms around each other, the  embrace deepened, becoming a warm, comforting sanctuary. They held each other tightly, the  tension melting away, replaced by a sense of homecoming. Tears streamed down their faces,  mingling as they buried their heads in each other’s shoulders. They shared a rhythm—inhaling and  exhaling as one. It was like someone had dropped a giant Ball jar over them, and they were alone in  the world.  

Once they wiped away their tears, Alexandra looked deeply into Olivia’s eyes and said, “This was  meant to be. All of it… I am so happy for you.”  

She wasn’t sure if she had heard Alexandra clearly over the din of the crowd.  “Meant to be?” she said. 

“Yes,” Alexandra replied. “Sometimes talent reveals itself without being cultivated. Protopia? Well,  the whole thing might have blown over like a Summer squall… But it didn’t… Because of you…  That’s why Protopia succeeded. This is you now. All of this. I’ve always known.”  

“Why are you saying this now? We’ve been apart… separated by some invisible wall for five years. If  you’ve always known, why now?” 

“Because you wouldn’t have believed me. You had to learn it for yourself,” she said. “It was never  enough for you to do well or even to do good. You had to find your true purpose. And now you  have.”  

The noise around them seemed to fade. Everything slowed down. Olivia realized that Alexandra was  right. She had found her purpose in life in Protopia. 

Then Alexandra added, “You’ve had the power all along.”