It’s Hollis.
I feel it with a sick certainty. The posts are too pointed. Too personal. They carry the same cutting undertone I remember all too well:If people only knew the real Rayne Webber.Always delivered like a joke, yet it always felt like a dig.
Undermining me was his specialty. I didn’t want to see it then. But I see it clearly now. Hiding in the shadows to make me feel unsettled, anxious, exposed. Because he can’t control me anymore.
I touch my opal and take a slow, deep breath, finding that cool, unshakeable center just as Carmen turns toward the primary camera.
“Please join me in welcoming incumbent mayor Gabriel Diablo and challenger Rayne Webber as they face voters together for the first time ahead of Election Day. Ms. Webber, your opening statement.”
I’d won the coin toss, which puts me up first. Four hundred people in the theater. Television cameras rolling. The whole town watching.
“Thank you, Carmen,” I begin, leaning into the microphone. “And thank you to everyone here and to everyone watching tonight. I’m running for mayor because Bayside deserves growth that doesn’t come at the expense of the people who live here, or the place we call home.”
A round of enthusiastic applause from the blue section loosens my nerves, and I settle into my rhythm. Question by question. Answer by answer. Timed responses. Rebuttals. Expansion versus preservation. Scale versus sustainability. The very things I’ve spent years fighting for in the trenches.
The pace is brisk. Diablo is a consummate debater, and while I might be less practiced in this arena, the event becomes less about me competing and more about showing voters exactly who I am.
As we’re closing out the second segment, Carmen’s expression changes almost imperceptibly. The slight, uncomfortable clearing of her throat tells me what’s coming before she even speaks.
“Ms. Webber,” she says, her hand hovering over her notes as if measuring her words. “In recent days, anonymous online commentary has circulated questioning the authenticity of your public image. While the origins remain unverified, the page has gained local attention. Since you have not publicly responded, would you care to address those rumors tonight?”
The audience falls silent.
Diablo glances toward me with anticipation. I imagine my father grinding his teeth in the second row, Anika going rigid, and DK standing one muscle twitch away from storming the stage.
A prickly chill slides down my spine. This is exactly what Hollis wanted. A public reaction. A crack in my composure. The twisted satisfaction of watching me squirm under his thumb.
Absolutely the fuck not.
I fold my hands lightly atop the podium, looking straight into the camera.
“It was far too absurd to deserve my energy, Carmen. I think most voters understand the internet can be a breeding ground for anonymous speculation and personal innuendo. It’s easy to hide behind a computer screen when you don’t have to face accountability. Only cowards hide.” I pause, hoping like hell Hollis is watching.
“What matters to the people of Bayside is my platform, my policies, and my record. Over the last four years, while I served as Director, our tourism initiatives injected millions of dollars into this town and created hundreds of local jobs. And as mayor, my focus will continue on building a strong, sustainable Bayside.”
Applause swells from the blue side.
“I trust the people of this town to recognize the difference between legitimate political discourse and a cheap smear campaign.”
The applause grows even louder, a roaring wave vibrating across the room.
Carmen waits for it to settle before nodding. “Thank you, Ms. Webber. We’ll take a brief commercial break.”
“Clear for three minutes,” a floor manager calls out.
As soon as the camera lights go dark, Anika appears at my side. “That’s the way to do it” she whispers triumphantly, shoving a water bottle in my hand before blotting my forehead with a makeup sponge. “Your responses were on point, but that last one… girl, chef’s kiss. You handled that question like a pro. Even better than we rehearsed.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling a rush of relief.
She runs through notes for the final segment while I sip water and reset.
Then I feel it. That familiar pull. My eyes lift instinctively across the stage. DK stands near Diablo, his tablet tucked beneath one arm. His attention isn’t on his candidate. It’s entirely on me. No smile, no obvious softness anyone else would notice. But I see it. The same look I saw after my first television interview. The same one he wore when the poll numbers saw me climbing. After every milestone, big or small, it’s the look that reminds me I belong here, in this race.
“Thirty seconds to air. Candidates ready.” The announcement breaks the moment.
But I carry that look all the way back into the lights.
When it’s over, and I return to campaign headquarters, I feel a dizzying mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. I just survived myfirst live debate. I don’t ask Anika about the polling numbers or post-debate commentary—not yet. Instead, I sit alone in my office for a few quiet minutes, letting the adrenaline settle and giving myself permission to soak in the achievement.
