She had the unique experience of living with several families as her mother had married a few times. The connections were not always strong, but they stayed with her. Now that she was being hunted, it was hard enough to know which of her friends could be trusted. Unthinkable that her families were split, some for her, some against. Unbelievable that some of the branches were interwoven, a few into brush piles. Saddened, disgusted, she sat, pensive, not wanting to think about it.

Why have we come to this? she thought. What is it about destroying another human being... a friend... family... that was so appealing?

She hurt not only for herself, but for the others. There were many like herself, she knew, who never wanted this, any part of it. And there were the rest. If they were only a few, it would not matter. But they were many. How can there be so many? How are they so filled with deceit and greed that they don't see how they affect everyone, not just me?

Her hero, Elizabeth, came to mind. Elizabeth grew up living in different homes, learning the who's and what's. She experienced her own follies with men before she figured out that matters of state were more important. Still, her advisors tried for years, in vain, to persuade her to choose one. She had more important issues to consider. Like who was loyal and who was not. Her own cousins tried to depose her. Elizabeth tried like hell to leave her family out, but a few kept plotting, planning to overthrow the crown. Her own cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots, thought she was so clever with her secret codes, with her cunning. Elizabeth went round about with her advisors, but finally, when they proved that Mary plotted to kill her, she relented and had Mary beheaded.

God, she thought. It's a wonder she kept her sanity through everything she endured. How will I deal with all this mess?

She made herself laugh a little, thinking of how Mary's dog was hidden under her skirt during the whole thing. Then she felt sorry for the dog. Can a dog help what it's master does? She imagined that anyone who might have enjoyed the execution up to that point must have been moved to remember their humanity upon seeing the dog.

Sigh. At least those thoughts distracted her temporarily. Now she remembered as she stripped to shower. When will this nightmare be over? I guess, when I stop fighting for justice. Never. The warm, soothing water released her tensions. Crying, without a sound, she crumpled onto the hard plastic. Stayed there awhile.