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My dad lowered himself into the chair previously occupied by Detective Caswell. “I have to show you something,” he said. “I don’t want to upset you, but it’s out there now, so you’re bound to come across it anyway. I’d rather you see it right now so you can prepare yourself.”
I sat up straight, pulse accelerating. “What is it?”
He pulled his phone out of his coat pocket and turned it to face me. An article from a political gossip site was on the screen.
Rumors are swirling about the recent escapades of a prominent congressman’s daughter. According to sources close to the family, Sienna McConville—daughter of House Representative Greg Holland—was rushed to a prestigious hospital after allegedly indulging in a wild drug-fueled episode that has sent shockwaves through the tight-knit community of Worthington University.
Witnesses claim that Ms. McConville was caught up in a manic episode at a Worthington residence hall that left those around her stunned. An anonymous insider revealed, “It was like a scene from a movie. She was naked, screaming, and completely out of control.”
As news of the incident spreads like wildfire, speculations abound regarding Ms. McConville’s state of mind and what may have led to her sudden spiral. Some netizens have suggested that she may still be battling personal demons resulting from her involvement in the 2019 Forrester Massacre in Michigan; a case that remains unsolved to this day.
Will this incident tarnish Greg Holland’s image, or can his family weather the storm and come out stronger on the other side? Only time will tell.
“Oh my god.” My hand shook with a mix of shock and fury as I passed the phone back to my dad. “How the hell did this story get out?”
“I don’t know. But your new identity is public knowledge now,” he replied. “So you might have some explaining to do with your peers.”
“Shit.” I sighed deeply and shook my head. “This is crazy. I don’t understand why my life counts as news.”
Dad set his jaw. “It’s DC, Sienna. Anyone with any tangential connection to a politician is considered fair game in the gossip circles.”
“It’s not fair.”
“I know, but that’s how it is. Especially for someone with your particular history,” he said. He briefly hesitated, rubbing his jaw. “Look, darling, I have to say… I really don’t want a repeat of last year. Or the year before. Or the year before that, either.”
“What do you mean?”
He lowered his voice. “I’m talking about your mental state, and your involvement in the Forrester case,” he said. “Do you have any idea what it’s done to my reputation over the years? I barely scraped a win in my last election.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m deadly serious,” he said stiffly, eyes narrowing.
“Okay, Dad,” I replied, folding my arms. “I’m sorry I survived a mass murder. I guess the outpouring of public support would’ve been much greater if I died. That would’ve been better for your career, right?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Please stop with the childish theatrics,” he snapped. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean, then?”
He lifted a palm. “I’m just saying that I have a very important job which hinges on my reputation, and your antics aren’t helping me.”
I looked down at the blanket, shaking my head. “Mom never would’ve treated me like this,” I murmured.
“Like what?”
“Like a pawn in a political game,” I said, raising my eyes to meet his again. “She would’ve listened to me. Treated me like her daughter. Not just someone who exists to score points with constituents.”
Dad slumped in the chair and raked a hand through his hair. Then he let out a deep sigh. “You’re right,” he murmured. “Violet was so patient. So understanding.”
“Not like you,” I muttered.
“No. Not like me.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. “I miss her so much.”
Dad grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I miss her too,” he said softly. “Is that why you’re acting out like this? Because you miss her?”
“I’m not acting out. I think there’s something going on wi—”
