His voice had that tightness that meant bad news, and Melissa’s shoulders stiffened in response. “What is it?”
“Thornfield is lobbying even harder than we expected. They’ve got three committee members wavering on the broadband provision, and there’s talk that they’re shopping for negative press angles.”
“Negative press angles meaning what, exactly?”
A pause. “Meaning they’re asking questions about your personal life. Your home situation. Whether your focus is where it should be.”
Your home situation.The divorce. The scandal. Michael’s affair splashed across local news, her private humiliation made public property.
“They can’t seriously think that’s relevant to infrastructure policy.”
“They don’t need it to be relevant. They just need it to be distracting.” David’s voice was careful now, the way it always got when he was about to say something she wouldn’t like. “I’m not saying they have anything. I’m just saying they’re looking. And you know how these things go. Once people start digging, they usually find something to twist.”
Melissa closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. This was how it worked. They couldn’t beat her on merits, so they’d try to make her look unreliable. Unfocused. Unfit.
“What do you recommend?”
“Keep your head down for the next few months. No controversial statements, no surprises, nothing that gives them ammunition. Let the bill do the talking. If we can get it through committee without any distractions, the rest should fall into place.”
“And if they manufacture a distraction?”
“Then we deal with it. But let’s not borrow trouble.” David paused. “Get some sleep, Senator. You’ve got a long summer ahead.”
He hung up, and Melissa sat in the silence of her office, staring at the dark window and the reflection of herself staring back.
Keep your head down. No surprises. Nothing that gives them ammunition.
She saved her work, closed her laptop, and made her way down the corridor in the darkness. The house was quiet now, but as she passed the kitchen she caught a lingering trace of garlic and herbs, evidence of a life being lived in rooms that had been empty for too long.
She paused at Lila’s door, easing it open just enough to see inside.
Her daughter was asleep, dark hair spread across the pillow, one arm wrapped around the stuffed otter she’d had since she was three. The nightlight cast soft shadows across the walls, and for once Lila’s face was relaxed, unguarded, free of the careful watchfulness she wore during the day.
On the nightstand, the otter book lay closed, a bookmark tucked between the pages.
Melissa stood there longer than she should have, watching her daughter breathe, the tightness in her chest easing.
One day, she thought.It’s only been one day.
But standing in her daughter’s doorway, listening to the quiet of the house, Melissa allowed herself to wonder if maybe—just maybe—this summer might be different.
Chapter 4
Pancakes and Shopping
June
Saturday, June 13th
By her fourth day in the Brandt house, June had learned three things.
First: Senator Melissa Brandt kept her pantry stocked with exactly twelve items, and four of them were various forms of crackers.
Second: Lila Brandt could sit quietly in one spot for longer than any seven-year-old June had ever met, and longer than most adults she knew, which was both impressive and heartbreaking.
Third: a house could be beautiful and expensive and utterly devoid of life, all at the same time.
The kitchen was the worst of it. June stood at the island on Saturday morning, surveying the space that should have been the heart of the home and finding it as sterile as an operating room. The six-burner stove had clearly, until June set foot there, never been used for anything more ambitious than boilingwater. The spice rack contained salt, pepper, and a jar of dried oregano.
