Page 15 of Revisions

We stand on a narrow ledge overlooking an abyss I once thought was unimaginable. Politics has always been riddled with self-interest, special interests, and a dizzying amount of capitulation. Anyone who suggests otherwise hasn’t been close enough to the political landscape to understand. But this moment is unlike any before. There is a level of anger and discontent in the nation and the world that I can’t recall ever experiencing. It’s normal for people to criticize the government and typical for them to feel dissatisfied with their wages and expenses. It’s also common for the electorate to direct their anger at the government. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt it this intensely.

This trip is timely. Flying aboard Air Force One always provides me with an opportunity to escape for a few minutes. Unless something urgent arises, I’ve established a policy to leave me to my thoughts while we prepare for take-off until we reach a comfortable cruising altitude. That may seem like little more than a minute, but I gratefully accept every second of quiet. I hope to gain some perspective on this brief trip so that I can focus more earnestly on my family when we’re together. Lately, I have struggled to set work aside for even a few moments. Endless scenarios race through my mind while I try to listen to Cooper recount his day or Jameson share a conversation with one of our kids. Balance. I desperately need some balance in my thoughts.

This trip will enable me to connect with people from different regions of the country. I wish I could say it would lead to conversations with those who oppose my presidency the most,but it won’t. There was a time when people crossed party lines to see a president—even if it was someone they didn’t vote for. There was a mutual respect for the office, even if not for the individual who held it. I’d never be so bold as to claim it fostered unity. Instead, it created a shared space for people to find common ground. We seem to have entered an era where prioritizing America has given way to political frustration and anger. That concerns me more than anything else that comes across my desk.

A knock on the door tells me that quiet time is over.

“Sorry,” Luke apologizes.

Choosing Luke as my Chief of Staff was one of the best decisions of my presidency. “Don’t apologize.”

“I know you like a little peace when we travel,” he says.

“And I know you wouldn’t knock unless you need me. Have a seat.”

“There’s a planned demonstration for the event today,” Luke explains.

"Demonstration" is a more palatable word than "protest." I raise an eyebrow at Luke, and he sighs.

“Candace.”

I offer him a smile. “Luke, protest is part of our political process.”

“Perhaps we should rethink your appearance,” he says.

I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath. “Did Ryan say something?”

Ryan McCarthy is the lead agent for my security detail. He would have informed me if he had any reason to think that the Secret Service couldn’t protect me. It’s not that I want to bypass Luke; he’s an important partner and advocate for my initiatives and presidency. However, there are realities in the world that I only share with a very close circle. Itismy choice. Perhaps one day, history will judge me harshly for this decision. I havereason to believe there are leaks in my cabinet and that some individuals within the agency assigned to my protection do not prioritize my welfare.

Luke has grown hesitant about my public appearances since the explosion in New York. Most people close to me still feel anxious at public events. I do my best to project the confidence I sometimes lack. Holding a public office has always involved risks. The higher the office, the more public one’s persona becomes—the more one invites greater scrutiny. I received threatening letters and calls as a senator, which intensified when I became governor of New York. The threats escalated even more when I announced my candidacy for the presidency. And now? They’ve reached a point of resulting in an attack.

I knew threats to my life would become more serious if I assumed the presidency. I want to say I understood. No one can fully grasp how life changes when you live in the White House.

“Candace,” Luke begins again.

“No,” I tell him. “Luke, we need to face reality. People are unhappy with nearly everything. They’re angry at each other. Some will be out to protest my agenda. Others will be out to counter-protest. I can’t sit on the sidelines because something might happen again.”

Luke sighs. I can feel his tension.

“Luke?”

“It’s the American Brethren, Candace.”

I hold his gaze deliberately and steady my breathing. This group was implicated in the attack that landed Dana and me in the hospital and took the lives of three others, including a member of my Secret Service detail, Blake Everson.

“Candace?”

“It’s inevitable,” I tell Luke.

“Demonstrations and protests are inevitable, putting you in the crosshairs of?—”

“I know who the Brethren are, Luke, and what they stand for. I also know why they’ve trafficked their intention.”

“And I know what you’re about to say.”

I nod. “Then you also know I won’t change my mind.”

“Candace, I spoke to Ryan, and while he won’t demand a change in your schedule, I think he’d be relieved ifyouagreed to forego this one stop.”

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