“Just one more thing, Daisy,” she added, standing as well and turning to me. “I know you and my son and your sister were quite close, once. And although Blake was adamant that we not hold this tuition thing over either of your heads”—she looked convincingly abashed—“I’m afraid I must overrule him. You understand? Whatever my son said to you during the course of his friendship with your sister will remain a distant memory. If someone asks you about him, you say, who?” Then she smiled politely and nodded like this was the simplest instruction in the world.

As she walked out, staffers emerged from their offices along the main corridor to observe the mood, spot the trampled. Their mission was an easy one. But before I could blink, Melinda Darley was gone, back into the open arms of her staff, who would surely cheer once she confirmed their victory.

“Is it true?” Bo whispered when we were down the hall and out of earshot.

L.K., who had waited for us outside, was ahead with Miles, handing him a bottle of water, a tissue.

“I don’t know,” I said, the lie making me feel even worse. Miles sped down the steps, and we all had to hurry more than usual to keep up. We passed into our office building, and the tunnel structure changed, became narrower, the lighting harsher. I felt exposed. The shock of Melinda Darley’s knowledge was beginning to wear off; taking its place was scorching regret. Why did I think this would work? Bo had been right—it was blackmail. I’d just tried to blackmail a sitting senator. I turned my face away from Bo, but not before I saw the disappointment in his eyes.

We caught up to Miles and L.K. at the elevator. “Daisy.” Miles frowned. “Go to that meeting on rural broadband for me, will you? I need to get back to the office.”

I questioned whether a dull, overly long basement meeting would be the worst of my punishment. “Miles, can I just say—”

“Please,” he said without looking at me. “Don’t want to know. Let’s go, Bo.”

I had always thought that someday Bo would have my job. I’d assumed it would be a peaceful transition, he—brilliant, capable, my chosen successor. It hit me then that the decision would likely be taken out of my hands. I doubted this epic calamity would result in another round of leave; if Miles did anything, he would fire me.

When the car arrived, everyone stepped in but me. “In your opening remarks during the hearing,” I said as the doors began to close. I raised my voice, “You can still press her on the temperament issue! Can emphasize her hypocrisy!”

But Miles, conferring with L.K. and Bo, did not so much as glance in my direction.

Thirty