Natalie was lying on the couch at the UnComfort Inn, blinking at the TV. Ryan was live from the White House, astride ATN’s North Lawn live-shot position in his best Conquering Hero pose, chest puffed out, head up high. For what seemed like the five hundredth time, he’d just been introduced as “ATN’s new White House correspondent.”

“How does it feel, Ryan?” Heath asked from his state-of-the-art hologram set, a “replica” of Rigo Lystra’s living space inside the Colombian embassy complete with pool table and a magisterial portrait of BamBam.

“It feels great, man,” Ryan said, eyes glinting in the sun, his voice in the deep octave of a Newly Minted White House Reporter. “I worked really hard for this.”

Natalie was too numb to yell, scream, or throw objects at the TV. In the six hours since she’d left Bibb’s office, she’d gone through the five of the stages of I Cant Believe This Is Happening—fury, loud groaning, slightly manic laughter, depression, and eating three large bags of drugstore popcorn.

She’d been online enough of the night to know that her debacle was the talk of the media world. ATN’s PR shop had issued a statement saying, “What matters is that we get it right, eventually.” On TVBuzzster, speculation swirled that Natalie had been fired. Matt had gone radio silent. Dasha had emailed offering to help her “handle things,” which inspired a quick fantasy involving Bibb’s hunting spear and Ryan’s midsection. And Jazzmyn had disappeared.

Natalie had sent her an email asking if everything was okay, but it’d bounced back from ATN’s server with the message [email protected] is not a working email.

As it had been doing all night, her mind flashed to the bottle of Xanax in her toiletries case. She resisted the urge to grab it. She thought of the look in Sarah’s eyes at her mom’s wedding and the disaster on the White House North Lawn. Taking those pills hadn’t exactly worked out well.

To distract herself, she started scrolling through the pictures that her sister had posted on Facebook and stopped on an image of Lulu and Sarah spinning together on the dance floor. They looked really happy. Natalie felt her eyes start to water. Why couldn’t she have stayed at the wedding? Stayed and been a good daughter and none of this would have happened. The First Lady. Her credibility. Her career. Her family.

There was nothing she could do about ATN, but at least she could fix things with Sarah.

She dialed her sister, half expecting her to send it to voice mail.

“Nice of you to check in.” At least she’d answered.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” Natalie said, quietly. “I’ve been a total jerk. I know it and I’m sorry.”