Julia. Twenty. I am and always will be the optimist. The hoper of far-flung hopes and dreamer of improbable dreams. I love her.
But next time you’re in Mercy, ask someone why they don’t have a Marshal or Sheriff or policeman there. We’ve got our own arrangement, they’ll say, then they’ll smile like they got a secret. Like they’ve got their own special angel watching out for them. Their very own angel who fell from the stars.