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was nothing new.

It seemed like half of her decisions in her teen years had been guided by those two stupid things—insecurity and pride. She blamed it on being an overweight pre-teen. Despite being lean, there was always a tiny part of her deep inside that was still that little girl who wanted to fit in. But she kept it under tight wraps. Most of the time.

Once she’d graduated from college and hit her stride—being pursued by men who obviously didn’t see her as a chubby little kid and pursuing her dream job as an archeologist—she was rarely plagued with any sort of insecurity. Pride? Yeah. Still a small problem.

And this time it had cost her the company of a good man at Christmas. She was touched. And grateful to have Colton McCloud in her life. Thinking this, she put her hand on Colton’s arm. He looked down, surprised, and she quickly removed it. But not before she’d felt the taut muscle under her palm and thought, “Damn. Colton McCloud apparently knows his way around some barbells, too, apparently.”

“What?” He gave her that smile. The one that always threatened to melt her into a little gooey spot on the floor.

“Aw. Nothing. It’s just that you’re a good guy, Colton McCloud.”

Another small red flush crawled up his neck. Too cute. He swallowed and concentrated on the images on the phone. Then he held it out to her. “This is a great shot. You standing there shows the sheer massiveness of those statues. You look so small. Incredible.”

Small. Instantly, that chubby little girl inside perked up. It was a harmless statement, but she felt offended. She knew it was her own deal. Colton had not meant anything by it. It’s just that small was not part of her DNA. She was 5’9” and looked him right in the eye when they were standing together.

The exhibit was in a gallery upstairs. As they climbed the two flights, Dallas shook off the lingering self-doubt. After all, she saw how Colton looked at her sometimes when he thought she wasn’t looking. She was pretty sure he didn’t have any complaints about her size. Her CrossFit classes had done their job. She wasn’t thin, but her muscles were firm. She was strong. And that’s what counted.

Besides Dallas was no longer interested in whether someone thought she was small or skinny. All she wanted was to be a force to be reckoned with. Strong. Fast. Formidable. Maybe that’s why she had such a prickly reaction to Colton saying the statues made her seem small. Whatever.

Right now, she was too excited about what lay before them. A mixture of anticipation and nervousness surged through her. The emotional cocktail surprised her. She’d been looking forward to this day–the first time she’d actually seen artifacts that had existed at the same time and in the same city as Cleopatra—for so long.

Dallas’s hand rose to the broken ankh necklace dangling from its leather strap. She rubbed it absentmindedly and then tucked it inside her T-shirt, feeling a strange need to hide it.

On the upper level, she and Colton made their way through galleries of religious icons, Chinese Qing dynasty silk textiles and Miao textiles, and then past a Georgia O’Keefe painting. Dallas kept her eyes on the end of the long hall where she could make out a bright blue sign announcing the sunken treasures exhibition. Her heart began to race faster. Halfway between her and the entrance, an even larger Egyptian statue soared two stories high through the open-air rotunda.

“Hapy,” she said in a whisper as they grew closer.

“This is crazy,” Colton said, taking out his own phone to snap a selfie with the Egyptian god who was both male and female.

Dallas stood at the foot of the statue, looking up in awe. The placard said the statue weighed nearly 10,000 pounds.

A commotion at the end of the hall snapped Dallas out of her awe. A line was already forming for the exhibit. It opened in five minutes. Dallas and Colton hurried and got in line. Once inside, the crowd quickly moved through the numbered exhibits. But Dallas lingered on each one, staking snapshots for her research and because, well, because it was amazing. At one point, a man glared at her and she pointed to the sign that said photography was allowed as long as there was no flash involved.

She was especially fascinated by the sarcophagus, the sphinx and the stele, the massive stone slab of stone engraved with hieroglyphs. Stele’s were much like today’s gravestones. This one told the story of an important businessman who died during Cleopatra’s reign. It was found near the man’s tomb. Dallas took several photos from different angles. She has a rudimentary knowledge of hieroglyphs and this one seemed to show Cleopatra and Antony, but she wasn’t sure.

Dallas wandered on and found herself in front of a brightly lit display case where tiny coins rested on black velvet.

The description said the coins were believed to have Cleopatra’s image on them. Dallas studied them. The queen of the Nile’s profile was not classically beautiful. In fact, some would argue it was unattractive. Nobody really knew what she looked like other than this relief on the coins she’d had made.

“She wasn’t any Elizabeth Taylor, but she was… I don’t know…magnetic looking maybe?” Colton said. “Is that even possible to tell from an old coin?”

“No, it’s true,” Dallas said in a dreamy voice, lost in her own thoughts “She was said to be the most captivating woman that ever lived.”

“And the most powerful.”

“For sure,” Dallas said and took a picture with her phone, blowing up the view so she could see the faces on the coins better.

Colton wandered off to the next exhibit, but Dallas stayed, mesmerized by the tiny coins. She imagined what it must feel like to hold them. But even more than that, she imagined what it had been like to unearth them on a dig. Even being the proverbial fly on the wall

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