Page 82 of Anorthic Anarchy

Veracity holds her son close to her neck and rocks him. A worried look comes through her green eyes. “And you want no part?”

Shaking my head definitively, I answer, “None. I don’t want to be a politician. You all were completely right. The three of youare a great check and balance system here. And you’re already starting to rebuild everything my husband destroyed for the people.”

“Sacrificed,” Arianna says with a toss of her brown hair over her shoulder. “Hesacrificed. For us.”

Not even speaking to them, I mutter, “I think he’d like the word destroyed.” Capturing each of their gazes, I smile. “But you’re right. Hesacrificedeverything for us. I’ll be happy to fund the reconstruction efforts. If you all ever need money, send an email to the address I gave you.”

“But we can’t know where you’ll be? What if we want to helpyou? And your child?”

Placing my hand over Bert, I sway my hips. “We’ll take care of each other. I just want to be alone and disappear from the world for a while.”

Veracity raises her red eyebrows. “You know, we may not be politicians if the people vote us out after all this. Anyone can be now. So if you change your mind about it, come back and visit. I’d vote for you.”

My arm snares her shoulder in a half embrace, and I pat her son’s head. Livia gathers me in a bear hug, then Ari’s tiny arms surround all of us.

Over the last two months, I don’t think I could have survived without these women. They helped me with even basic things like keeping me fed or holding my hair when I puked from morning sickness. Fortunately, I think I’m past that stage now.

Once I could manage, they even had me over to their houses to babysit. Livia showed me how to change her son Adal’s diapers. Veracity taught me how to burp Valen. I visited my brother’s grave on the South Side, which provided me with a level of closure I didn’t know I needed until I was standing there with Ace. The Donovans have become my surrogate siblings.

Ace and Max are like my protective older brothers. Max insisted on sending guards of his own choosing to surround House Strauss, despite the fact that danger has been completely annihilated. All of it lay waste in the pile of dust and debris that once was the Crimson Angel.

The only thing I requested was a plaque on the library they plan to build there in its place. Just a simple one that reads “Here lies Vladimir Vincente Strauss III. Last of his name. Because of his death, we all may be free.”

That’s been the harshest part. Not having anything of his body left to bury. There were teeth and bones of others. But none that have been identified yet as my husband’s.

Sadness overwhelms me at times, but I twirl my wedding ring on my finger and pat my belly to make me forget for a moment.

House Strauss is transitioning into a wayward home for battered women and children. The people who were working at the Crimson Angel either took full-time volunteer positions or helped with the transition. Knowing that such a place of horror has been transformed into one for help makes me feel some relief.

“Thank you. Seriously. But I’m leaving. I’ll send word when I can.”

Sev’s large hand rubs my back as he helps me into the Hummer and escorts me to the airport.

I’ve never flown on a plane before, but I guess a private jet is the way to go. The stewardess looks at me with some type of pity in her big eyes. So I assume she knows the backstory of me leaving. Everything I wanted to take is already at my new place, and I’ll have fun unpacking it all.

I should probably pick out a better name for our daughter…

And that’s what consumes my thoughts as my nose stays plastered to the plastic window while we rise above the skies.While deep in thought, I twirl my ring right off my finger until it bounces on the floor beneath my seat.

With a sigh, I unbuckle my belt and reach for it, then slide it back on. But the light catches the gold and an engraving carved deep in the metal makes me pause.

Meet me at the Crystal Maiden

My heart skips a beat. He did this when he first met me, knowing exactly how much the place meant from one conversation. Maybe both of us were ready to love. All we needed was each other.

No one knows. Not even Sev. But I bought a farm.

It’s on the banks of a river and at the edge of a jungle. The biggest distraction over the last few weeks has been my new obsession with gardening books. Survival books. Self-sustaining agriculture books.

And that’s where I want to raise…Eve. That’s what I’ll call Liberty. Eve and I will make our new home in the lush tropical landscape among papayas and bananas.

When I arrive at the main airport, a driver awaits to escort me to my new town in a Jeep. “Mrs. Lynx?”

“Yeah, that’s me!”

He smiles broadly and waves his hand toward his vehicle. “Welcome to your new home!”

The small town just down the road from my farm holds everything I need. An Amish grocery, a post office, a veterinarian, a local practitioner, and a hardware store. Various brightly colored shops line the main street. And when the driver drops me off, I tip him generously and head into a local restaurant first.

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