There was silence followed by an exhale. “I think it’s Mom you should be apologizing to.”

“I will,” Natalie said and added, “You know she wants to kill Cronkite? She said she’s going to have him put to sleep.”

“Oh please, even Mom wouldn’t do that.”

“Her guru wants her to have more flexibility to spend time with Gerald.”

There was a pause. “Jesus. I can actually hear her saying that.”

“I had to get out of there to save Cronkite.”

“Who are you kidding? You left because you wanted to leave.”

She said nothing. It was true.

“Well, I’m glad you rescued Cronkite from Mom’s murderous clutches.”

Natalie laughed. Thank god she hadn’t lost Sarah. “I’ll call Mom and work it out. I promise. I’ll make it up to her.”

“To be honest you’re lucky you left when you did,” Sarah said. “Their first dance was to humpback whale music. Gerald read a poem dedicated to Mom’s precious pink petal.” There was a pause. “So what’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I don’t?” Natalie dodged. Sarah knew all the sacrifices she’d made to get here, everything she’d given up, everyone she’d let down along the way—her father, herself—to land a chance at the White House. How could she explain that she’d blown it all up? By being sloppy.

“I quit my job,” Natalie said finally.

“Are you kid—?” Sarah started and then stopped herself. “You’re not kidding. I’m not shocked. I know you want to be at the White House, but not this way.”

“What does that mean?” Natalie asked, unable to hide her surprise.

“You always said you wanted to get to the White House to do real journalism. Help speak up for people who couldn’t speak for themselves. Dad did it with the law, and you were going to do it as a reporter, you know? I don’t mean this as criticism, but I haven’t seen you do a whole lot of that...” Sarah let her voice trail off.

It stung, but Sarah was right.

“Be noisy,” Natalie said, remembering the words their dad used to say. “I guess I thought that if I was quiet now, I could speak up later when I get some power at the network. But I don’t think it works that way.”

“Can I say something and promise you won’t get mad?” Sarah asked.

“Sure,” Natalie said warily.

“Mom’s the one who used to say that. Be noisy. When we were little, that was her line.”

Natalie blinked. “No, Dad always used to say—”