She felt like an elephant had settled onto her chest. She’d made many difficult decisions in the past fourteen years, from calling for a congressional investigation into a prominent member of her own party using taxpayer dollars to take luxurious trips overseas under the guise of business development, to approving a budget that increased welfare benefits and military appropriations but sank the country further into debt.

Centrist Democrats is what we are, her father often said. And we vote with our mind, but lead with our guts.

But no decision, no maneuver, no judgment came anywhere close to the agony of declaring herself a nominee for father’s vacant seat without discussing it with him, knowing she could no longer associate with her own family.

Yes, she was infuriated by what she’d read in the government investigation into Argentum. But what very few knew is that she privately went to the town herself, to question the staff at the hospital. Hearing denial after denial, a sliver of doubt wormed its way into her heart, which had always aggressively protected her family. And when her own mother—her rock, her guiding star, her dependable foundation—refused to even discuss what happened with her own family, citing her desire to protect them all, that sliver began to expand.

Her father’s abrupt decision to step away from the Senate had been the final straw. She’d lashed out at him, saying he was officially destroying what was left of the family’s good name. Her father, always strong to the point of being defiant, seemed different now. Older. Weary. He’d listened to her furious words saying he was being caught up in a ridiculous conspiracy. He’d simply said, “I believe your mother,” and was committing all his time to her work. She’d left the office that day vowing to not speak to him for an entire day until she cooled off.

Instead, she’d gone directly to meet with trusted strategists. A day turned into weeks and months. There was the campaign, and then the election, and then assembling her staff. Her work was all-consuming. Her dedication to her constituents and her country earned her a reputation as a tireless public servant. The corridors of power had slowly opened up to her, extending the type of access most politicians dream of: to the oval office and a second-term president.

It only cost her a family.

When her father died, she’d realized their fight over his decision to leave politics was the last time they’d ever spoken.

After reading the files on her mother and nephew on the flight from DC, she kept thinking about her father’s face that day of their final conversation. She couldn’t pinpoint then if he was just exhausted from having to make such a monumental decision. But she recalled thinking she’d never seen him look that way.