Jane stood. “I’d really like to see it.”

They went downstairs, Jane ignoring the protests from her security detail. They reached the room. The door was unlocked. The detail chief insisted on at least making sure no one was lurking inside.

“That will be all you do,” she said sternly. “Don’t even turn the lights on. And then come directly out.”

It only took seconds to make sure the room was empty.

Jane turned to Ruth Ann. “Do you mind if I go in alone?”

“Go right ahead, ma’am. I ain’t want to go back in there.”

Jane closed the door behind her, flicked on the light, and looked around.

She started at one end of the room and kept going until she reached the other. With each photo, each line of writing, a name, a date, a description of an event, memories, awful memories came flooding back to her.

“He raped me, Daddy,” she read off the wall, when she’d gone back to the beginning of the piece of history built on these walls. She slid a chair to the middle of the room, sat down and continued to stare at this story. At her story.

She looked in the file cabinets, but they were mostly empty.

She only teared up once, when she saw the photo of Willa looking down at her. She had not been entirely truthful with her husband about Willa. She had wanted Willa to stay in the family because that would always be a secret that she could hold over Dan Cox. Her husband was a good man for the most part, but unpredictable. She was sure there would come a time in their marriage, after they left the White House, when such leverage would be very useful to her. It had been an intoxicating notion to know that the president of the United States was actually less powerful than his wife. Yet over the years she had come to love and care about Willa. She wanted her back.

She had to confess admiration for Sam Quarry’s skill and tenacity. It really was an amazing accomplishment. After what had happened today there would be an investigation, of course. That was a real problem, but not an insurmountable one.

Her husband’s charmed streak would continue. Jane knew exactly what she had to do. And in accordance with her efficient nature, she set about methodically to do it. It was just another time where she

had to pick up the pieces. Just one more time.

Her husband would not be remembered this way. She stared at the wall. He had changed. He didn’t deserve this.

And neither do I.

When you had clawed your way to the level the Coxes had, you lost all individuality. You were no longer him or her. You were them.

Five minutes later she came out and shut the door behind her.

She looked at the lead agent. “I want to go back to D.C. immediately.” She turned to Ruth Ann. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

“And everything will be fine. Don’t you worry.”

They hurried up the steps and out of Atlee.

The chopper lifted off seconds later. It set a heading to the northwest and the pilot hit the throttle. They were soon out of sight.

Ruth Ann closed the front door and went back to work in the kitchen. A few minutes later she smelled something funny. She walked from room to room trying to figure out what it was. She finally ventured down the stairs, hastened across the passageway, and arrived at the door to the basement room. When she touched the doorknob, it felt warm. Puzzled, she pulled it open.

It was at that moment that the fire set earlier by Jane Cox using paint thinner, rags, and a match hit the pressurized oxygen cylinders, igniting them. The explosion rocked the old plantation house to its bones. The flame ball that rocketed out the open door gushed over Ruth Ann, incinerating her. The woman didn’t even have time to scream.

By the time the fire was noticed and help called in, it was far too late. By the time the volunteer fire department arrived, there was hardly anything left of Atlee.

Later, Sean, Michelle, Willa, and Gabriel pulled down the long drive in the SUV. When they saw what was going on, Gabriel jumped out while the vehicle was still moving and sprinted the rest of the way.

“Momma! Momma!”

Michelle gunned the engine and they sped up. Gabriel was running so fast he reached the ruins of the house at the same time. As they were climbing out of the SUV, the little boy had already dodged past the firemen and was wading into what was left of the house.

Sean raced after him. “Gabriel!”