The team laughs, and so do I. I need this. I need work that I enjoy and that feels meaningful. This mission to put people in power who champion the marginalized—it’s been the epicenter of my life since I graduated college to the neglect of everything else. With the very real possibility of never having my own children now, I feel the imbalance more than ever, but I can’t say I would have changed a thing. Kayla carries out Daddy’s legacy by overseeing our family’s foundation. This is how I perpetuate the principles by which he lived. As for how our brother does it…who the hell knows?

My phone vibrates on the conference room table.

Keith.

Well, speak of the player and he shall appear.

“I need to take this call.” I glance at the lunch we ordered spread out on the conference room table. “Go on and dig in. Carla, could you update everyone on our schedule for the next few days? I’ll be right back.”

I step into the hall and stride toward my office, phone pressed to my ear.

“Keith,” I say, closing the door behind me. “To what do I owe this rare pleasure?”

“Can’t a man just call to check on his little sister sometimes?” he asks, that liquid voice all the men of our family inherit pouring over the line. My grandfather and father put that compelling voice to use championing others’ needs. Keith wastes his on simple charm.

“Yes, a man can, but this man usually doesn’t.” I chuckle to let him off the hook because he’s that guy who makes everybody want to let him off. “I know you need something, but it’s good to hear from you. What’s up?”

“I heard you’re coming home and might stay for a while.”

“Maybe a couple of weeks.” I perch on the edge of my desk. “We’ll see.”

“I’d love to talk to you about something while you’re home.”

Here we go.

“Oh?” I ask, keeping my voice only pleasantly curious instead of I knew it. “What about?”

“I’m thinking of running.”

“From who?” I ask, laughing.

“Ha ha. Very funny. Running for office.”

My smile disintegrates. “Which office?”

“Congress. I’ve been putting some feelers out, and there’s real interest in me getting into politics.”

“Of course there’s interest. Your last name is on a dozen streets and schools and parks in that city. Name recognition alone means somebody wants to slap you onto a ballot. Doesn’t mean you should.”

“Wow. Tell me how you really feel, sis.”

“Oh, I always will. You know that. Why do you want to run for office? You’re making plenty of money practicing law.”

“It’s not about the money,” he says, his tone stiffening like one of his heavily starched shirt collars.

“What is it about then? Tell me.”

“It’s about…the people.”