“I watched the Darley hearings,” Ari said, rolling her neck like she was ready to box. “And was underwhelmed. I kept waiting for Miles’s big moment, to reveal our ace in the hole.”

“Right,” I said deliberately, needing to pivot from thoughts of Atlas to Miles. “Turns out it wasn’t such an ace. More like a three of clubs.”

This stunned her. “You’ve got to be kidding. Daisy, you were supposed to use that intel. Otherwise, I would’ve leaked to our guy at the Post a week ago. We needed Darley weakened.”

Not wanting to divulge the particulars of why we hadn’t, I considered my next move carefully. “It was my total intention to use it. Miles thinks we are best served by keeping it quiet for now. Using it as leverage after she gets confirmed.”

“Get your story straight, Daisy.” She got up from her chair and placed both palms on my desk. “Either you didn’t use it because it’s nothing, or it’s something, and you’re going to wield it later. I did you a favor, bringing you this. Daisy.” She said my name again, this time stretching out the last syllable. In her mouth, my name sounded like a rebuke. “Were you too afraid of using it, or what?”

This I did not like. I’d presumed she’d be disappointed, perplexed, maybe even angry. But calling me a chicken? Too far. “Don’t confuse patient strategy with panic, Ari. You gave me the intel. You told me I could do with it what I wanted. Well, we want to wait.”

“All right.” She shrugged, sat again, recrossed her legs. “The confirmation vote is tomorrow. I guess I can leak it today and we might get somewhere.”

I lounged back, tried to look disinterested. If she leaked this, Melinda Darley would surely assume it was us, and my and Wallis’s secret would be out. I would have to call Ari’s bluff; it was the only way to protect our agreement with Melinda Darley. “Come on, Ari. You don’t want to do that. The confirmation vote will steamroll the coverage, and media will move on before it can gain any traction. Releasing it now would barely cause a ripple. Wait, though, until later, and see where we can use it. She might screw up, and we can bundle it on top of other gaffes or missteps.” I paused, unbreathing, hoping she would buy it.

She pouted, but didn’t object. “God, okay, but this isn’t a good look for me. I’m going to have to sell this to people.”

I turned to my computer, clicked randomly on a few browser tabs, just so she wouldn’t catch the relief on my face. “It seems like you could sell a screen door to a submarine,” I said and meant it. “I don’t imagine you’ll—”