Cover

Title Page

Dedication

To Roxanne, Jihane,
and all the women in my life
who, like Alex, perfectly balance
political conviction and romantic spirit.
May the world be full of more women like you.

1. Philadelphia, USA

1

PHILADELPHIA, USA

Now

“This housing crisis won’t be solved by a couple rent-controlled units in yet another luxury hi-rise. The longer we leave the future of our city up to developers, the worse this situation is going to get. We’re going to have to… have to…”

Alex looked at the notecards propped up next to the tripod holding her phone. Usually, she didn’t need more than a glance at her talking points to record a perfect take, but today was different. Today, getting through even a few basic lines felt nearly impossible. Her mind was elsewhere, already checked out well before she’d set the “Out of Office” message on her email live. She had taken over half an hour crafting it to perfection, making sure it was as comprehensive as possible and relishing the future freedom it represented. She had even put a sun emoji in the subject line of the auto-response—a touch she reconsidered a few times before finally adding it.

Willing her mind to return to work, she did a quick once-over of her next bullet point and faced the camera, adjusting the collar of her shirt to sit properly.

“We’re going to have to use the existing legislation to—”

Her eyes darted down to her notes again, the meaning of her words slipping away even as she said them. She glanced back up at her expression on camera, correcting it to something friendlier. Her eyes felt heavy through her smile, physical evidence of her anxious, sleepless week. Reaching into her tote bag, she grabbed a barrette, placing it in her mouth while her hands gathered roughly half of her wild, dark curls behind her head. She secured them in place, pulling out a few tendrils to seem a little more approachable. As often happened when she was recording herself, the many possible areas of aesthetic improvement began jumping out at her as soon as she fixed one. Her strong Greek nose needed more concealer, her olive skin looked nearly green under the fluorescent office lights, her lips were visibly dry. There were too many things to fix and not enough time to fix them.

She blinked hard, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head to return to the matter at hand. The notecard stack was heavy under the phone, and a flush of irritation rippled through her as she faced down the many videos she needed to record before end of day, a task she couldn’t outsource. After running politicians through the content she had created so many times, her presence on camera just became a natural extension of her job description. It never felt enjoyable, per se, but at least it usually felt efficient—and today, she couldn’t even have that.