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them took a seat at the table while I retrieved another place setting. The rest of dinner was filled with Francesca and Kara getting to know one another. They spoke about everything from Kara’s classes, California, hairstyles, and Ian. Kara was obviously as comfortable in Francesca’s presence as I was, and I was so thankful she was here to temporally take both our minds off the situation.

After dinner, Kara took Francesca up to the guest room to get her settled in while I prepared us each a cup of tea. I wanted Kara to phone the hospital to see how Jack was doing, but her spirits seemed to be lifted a bit, and I didn’t want to do anything that might put a damper on that.

“Mom, turn on the news!” Kara shouted from the top of the stairs. I poured the boiling water into the last teacup, then put the kettle back on the stove before turning on the kitchen television. Kara and Francesca scurried into the kitchen, each taking a seat around the island.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Ken just sent me a text and told me Dominick Cavlan was giving a statement,” Francesca replied with her eyes glued to the television, waiting for the story to break. I took a seat as well with my gut churning.

“And this just in to our news station, Senator Cavlan, top contender so for the presidential nominee of the Democratic Party, has resigned. He spoke with reporters and his supporters just moments ago outside of his San Diego home.”

My mouth went agape, sharing a confused glance with Francesca as the television switched from the anchor in the studio to the slimy politician standing in front of a multimillion-dollar-looking home.

“I’d like to extend the deepest of thanks to all of you who’ve supported me throughout the years and for having the confidence in me to represent you. While I’ve enjoyed serving all of you, I believe it’s time for me to step out of the political arena. My family and I have been through a lot in this past year, and I need to take this time to tend to them and heal. Thank you all again, so much.”

“Mr. Cavlan, what about the new rape allegations?” a reporter shouted as he turned his back toward the camera, totally ignoring the question while heading back to the safety of his mansion.

A slow, satisfying smile spread across Francesca’s face. “Well, I’d say it was worth it. He’ll never admit to what he’s done, but we achieved the next best thing. We killed his political career, and to him that’s worse than being labeled a rapist.”

“He needs to take the time to tend to his family,” I mocked. “What a crock, more like he needs to do damage control to keep his wife from leaving him, if she had any sense at all!”

“Wow! You guys did it!” Kara beamed. “Now maybe if he has some other victims, they’ll speak out as well. If there are others, hopefully, the statute of limitations hasn’t run out on them, so he can finally be charged.” I raised an eyebrow, impressed at Kara’s knowledge of the law. “My father is an FBI agent and so is the guy I’m dating…I think I know a little bit about how these things work.” She rolled her eyes.

“If I had just spoken up sooner, maybe Karlyn Wells would’ve been taken seriously and she’d still be alive today.” Francesca sighed.

“Don’t. You spoke up when you needed to and when you felt comfortable doing it. You’re not responsible in any way for what happened to that poor girl. He is,” I assured her. “We did good work.” I lifted my teacup in a toast. Francesca and Kara did the same, and we clinked them all together in a toast. Three generations of women were sitting in my kitchen. Strong and independent, each in our own way, and I took pride in that.

Kara had gone upstairs when Ian called, while Francesca and I sat in the living room, looking at old photo albums of my mother’s. She was able to revisit my entire life in pictures in perfect chronological order, thanks to my mother’s super organizational skills.

“You look so much like me when I was your age in this photo,” Francesca remarked, eyeing up the school portrait of me as a first grader, toothless and with a bad bowl haircut.

“My mother used to cut my bangs. So not a good look!” I laughed.

“You were adorable,” Francesca scolded in defense.

We went through each year with Francesca taking everything in, asking questions every now and then. She shook her head with a bright beaming smile when we reached the album of my teenage years, after Jack had entered my life. I hadn’t realized how many pictures there were of the two of us, reminding me of a time so long ago when we were inseparable.

“I can’t believe you two have known each other for so long.” Francesca shook her head, smiling at the picture of Jack and me sitting on the beach. I was wearing a string bikini and white-framed sunglasses, with my hair teased up to the sky. While Jack was sporting brightly colored Jams swim trunks that were all the rage back then and his Miami Vice-style sunglasses.

“Wow! We actually thought we were so cool in this picture.” I laughed in unison with the tears building up in my eyes. We had our whole life ahead of us. We were so young, so innocent, not knowing what lay ahead.

Francesca placed the photo album on the table and reached for my hand. “You married your Tommy.”

“What?” I cinched my eyebrows, wiping away the tears with my sleeve.

“The boy you fell in love with…you married and had children with. The same way I wanted to with Tommy.”

“I suppose I did.” I nodded.

“I think it’s time you come clean and tell him how you’re really feeling. Life is too short.”

I didn’t want to tell her I already had today while

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