She began to tap her foot, wondering if it sent waves of irritation through the agents. I hope it does. Because I shouldn’t be here. I should be on my way to my mother and Roxy, trying not to trip on the tail between my legs. I should be with Director Wolve, scouring every bit of information trickling in that might lead us to William. I should be with my sister’s family in Nashville, trying to convince them that I am doing everything I can to find William. I should be in my office doing the job Tennesseans voted me in to do.

She was literally going deeper down the rabbit hole that she’d denied existed all her adult life; the reason why she kept her distance from her mother and her entire family. At her father’s funeral, she could sense her mother wanted make amends. Instead, she’d left the church and taken the next flight home to Washington, repeating to herself that it made no sense to return to the past she wanted desperately to avoid.

Her mother would never speak of what happened in Argentum, repeatedly stating it was for her family’s safety. All Kate had to go on was the government investigators’ report, which concluded that those damn Researchers had William all along, using her mother’s fears to exploit their beliefs. They just used her, and it cost her father his political future.

Her kind, sweet mother, duped into something that ruined their family. Kate loved her mother, but could never forgive her for that.

And because of it, because of that denial, the painful rift between her and her family, she was now one of the most powerful women in Congress. Kate’s responses—now so familiar that they were practically a campaign slogan—to questions about her mother’s belief in extraterrestrial life, became her catch phrase. I’m not here for the sideshow.

Her conservative constituents had eaten it up. She’d barely won the election, refusing to ask her father to campaign for her. She’d restored the family’s good name. The townhouse in Georgetown, the most influential committees, the praise on feminist blogs and accolades from women’s groups.

All built on a lie.

The doors to the elevator finally opened, and she began to step out, when one of the agents stopped her. The panel began to flash a vibrant red, and he swiped his security badge. The light turned green. “Sets off an alarm in the hallway if you don’t,” he said.

He motioned down a dimly lit corridor.

“Are y’all opposed to light?” she asked.