Tim pulls an old-fashioned stopwatch from the folds of his robe. “You’ll never be a Senator if you miss your swearing-in ceremony.” He clicks the metal cover open, glances at the watch-face, and then sides the instrument back into his robes. “And that starts in precisely twenty-two minutes.” His forehead creases with worry. “Why must you visit the staff at this time?”

“You’ll understand once you meet them.” Mom pauses at the door to the second floor and turns the handle. Nothing happens. “That’s strange.”

I take a good hard look at the door. Yup, that’s the exact same one I walked by on my way to the fourth floor library at the Walker mansion. Next time I’m there, I am for sure finding a way into that room.

“We usually leave this unlocked.” Mom pulls a silver chain from around her neck. A tiny key hangs at the end. She slips it into the knob, twists the handle, and slowly pushes the door open.

Mom and Tim step inside. Rows of desks and chairs line the long space, all of them empty. The room is quiet and dark. Mom sets her hands on her hips.

“Where is everybody?” Her chocolate eyes narrow.

I know that look. It’s the one that happens right before I’m grounded for forgetting to do something really important. Somebody’s in trouble, that’s for sure.

The lights flash on. Dozens of bodies appear from behind desks and chairs. “Surprise!”

Mom’s face bursts into a wide grin. She scans all the faces, clapping her hands with joy. She knows all these people. More than that, she cares about them.

Whoa, there.

My mother knows actual people, other than me or Walker? I suppose that should’ve been obvious once I found out she’s a Senator, but I never pictured it actually happening. A feeling that’s somewhere between joy and shock bounces around my rib cage.

An elder woman with amber skin and white hair steps out from the group. In her arms she carries an enormous cake that reads ‘Congratulations Camilla.’ She wears a simple blue pantsuit with a purple scarf at her throat. Her wide brown eyes, full mouth, and long black tail all look familiar.

Mom’s face lights up with a wide smile. “Thank you, Mother.”

Holy guacamole. That’s my grandmother, Sanctus Lewis, the one I read about in the Ryder library today. She wrote the introduction to Quasi Diplomacy. I scan the room, seeing all the strangely-familiar faces. These aren’t just co-workers, they must be the extended Lewis family. I shake my head from side to side. It’s one thing to read Grandmother’s introduction about the Lewis family legacy in diplomacy, but it’s different to see so many semi-familiar faces in the Ryder mansion. And why haven’t I met any of these folks before?