“What? How could they-?”

“Don’t look at me like that. At the end of the day, I still broke the cardinal rule of being a page: I went off campus without authorization and stayed overnight without permission. Worst of all, I lied to my parents and the principal, then flew off to South Dakota.”

“But I told them-”

“It’s the FBI, Harris. They may be hard-asses, but they’re not complete idiots. Sure, maybe you can force me on a plane, or to run an errand or two, but what about getting me to the motel, and to the mine, then down the shaft, and into the lab? Then we gotta catch the return flight back. You’re a lot of things, Harris, but kidnapper’s not on the list. You really thought they’d believe all that crap?”

“When I told it, it was flawless.”

“Flawless, huh? Break my face?”

I can’t help but laugh.

“Exactly,” she says. Viv pauses, finally taking the ice pack off her face. “I still appreciate you trying, though, Harris. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No. I did.”

She stands there, refusing to argue. “Can I ask you one last thing?” she says, motioning to the ground. “When we were down there with Janos… and you were stuck in the hole… were you standing on that little ledge the entire time?”

“Just toward the end… my foot stumbled on it.”

She’s silent for a moment. I know what she’s after.

“So when you asked me to swing the golf club…?”

There we go. She wants to know if I was really willing to sacrifice myself, or if I just did it to distract Janos.

“Does it matter?” I ask.

“I don’t know… maybe.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’d have asked you to swing either way.”

“That’s easy to say now.”

“Sure is, but I didn’t find the foothold till the last second, when he broke my grip.”

She stops as the consequences sink in. It’s no lie. I would’ve done whatever it took to save her. Foothold or not.

“Take it as a compliment,” I add. “You’re worth it, Viv Parker.”

Her cheeks rise uncontrollably. She has no idea what to say.

Up the hallway, a cell phone starts chirping. Viv’s lawyer picks it up and puts it to his ear. Nodding a few times, he closes it and looks our way. “Viv, your parents just checked into their hotel. Time to go.”

“In a sec,” she says. Sticking with me, she adds, “So still no word about Janos?”

I shake my head.

“They’re not gonna find him, are they?”

“Not a chance.”

“Think he’ll come hunting for us?”

“I don’t think so. FBI told me Janos was paid to keep things quiet. Now that the word’s out, his job’s over.”

“And you believe them?”

“Viv, we’ve already told our story. Security cameras got pictures of him entering the Capitol. It’s not like they need us as witnesses or to identify him. They know who he is, and they have everything they need. There’s nothing gained now by putting bullets in our heads.”

“I’ll remember that as I check behind every closed shower curtain for the rest of my life.”

“If it makes you feel better, they said they’d assign security detail to both of us. Besides, we’ve been sitting here for eight hours. If he wanted us dead, it already would’ve happened.”

It’s not much of a guarantee, but in a warped way, it’s the best we’ve got. “So that’s it? We’re done?”

I look back to my lawyer as she asks the question. After a decade on Capitol Hill, the only person standing in my corner is someone who’s paid to be there. “Yeah… we’re done.”

She doesn’t like that tone in my voice. “Look at it this way, Harris – at least we won.”

The FBI agents told me the same thing – we’re lucky to be alive. It’s a nice consolation, but it doesn’t bring back Matthew, or Pasternak, or Lowell. “Winning isn’t everything,” I tell her.

She gives me a long look. She doesn’t have to say a word.

“Ms. Parker – your parents…!” her lawyer calls out.

She ignores him. “So where do you go from here?” she asks me.

“Depends what type of deal Dan cuts with the government. Right now, the only thing I’m worried about is Matthew’s funeral. His mom asked me to give one of the eulogies. Me and Congressman Cordell.”

“I wouldn’t sweat it – I’ve seen you speak. I’m sure you’ll do him justice.”

It’s the only thing that anyone’s said in the last eight hours that’s actually made me feel good. “Listen, Viv, I’m sorry again for getting you into-”

“Don’t say it, Harris.”

“But being a page…”

“… paled to what we did these last few days. Just paled. The running around… finding that lab… even the stupid stuff – I took a shower in a private jet! – you think I’d trade all that so I could refill some Senator’s seltzer? Didn’t you hear what they said at page orientation? Life is school. It’s all school. And if anyone wants to give me crap about being fired, well… well, when’s the last time they jumped off a cliff to help a friend who needed it? God didn’t put me here to back down.”

“That’s a good stump speech – you should save it.”

“I plan to.”

“I’m serious what I said before: You’re gonna make a great Senator one day.”

“Senator? You got a problem with a giant, black woman President?”

I laugh out loud at that one.

“I meant what I said, too,” she adds. “I’ll still need a good chief of staff.”

“You got a deal. Even I’ll come back to Washington for that one.”

“Oh, so now you’re leaving us all behind? What’re you gonna do – write a book? Join the law practice with your guy Dan? Or just kick back on a beach somewhere like at the end of all those other thrillers?”

“I don’t know… I was thinking of just heading home for a bit.”

“I love it – small town boy goes home… they give you the victory parade… everyone chows on apple pie…”

“No, not Pennsylvania,” I say. For the better part of a decade, I’ve been convinced that success in the big leagues would somehow bury my past. The only thing it buried was me. “I was actually thinking about staying around here. Dan said there’s a junior high school in Baltimore that could use a good civics teacher.”

“Hold on a second… you’re gonna teach?”

“And that’s so bad?”

She thinks about it a moment. A week ago, like any other page, she would’ve said there were bigger things to do with my life. Now we both know better. Her smile is huge. “Actually, that sounds perfect.”

“Thank you, Viv.”

“Though you know those kids’ll eat you alive.”

I grin. “I hope so.”

“Miss Parker…!” her lawyer bellows for the last time.

“Be right there… Listen, I should run,” she tells me, offering a quick hug. As she wraps her arms around me, I can feel her ice pack on my back. She squeezes so tight, my arm starts to hurt. It doesn’t matter. The hug’s worth every second.

“Knock ’em dead, Viv.”

“Who, my parents?”

“No… the world.”

She pulls away with that same toothy grin she had when we first met.

“Y’know, Harris… when you originally asked me for help… I had such a crush on you.”

“And now?”

“Now… I don’t know,” she teases. “I kinda think I should get a suit that fits.” Walking backwards up the hallway, she adds, “Meanwhile, know what the best part of being a teacher is?”

“What?”

“The annual class trip to Washington.”

This time, I’m the one with the toothy grin.

“Y’like that, don’t you, King Midas?” she adds.

Turning around, she puts her back to me and heads for her lawyer. “I’m serious about that chief of staff job, Harold,” she calls out as her voice echoes down the long hallway. “Only eighteen years until I reach the age requirement. I’ll expect you there bright and early.”

“Whatever you say, Madame President. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”