My pregnant daughter ran into my office, her face covered in fresh b:ruises. Her husband, a beloved local politician, casually strolled in behind her, shutting the door.

attached to my lapel.

Grant noticed immediately.

His eyes narrowed.

Then I smiled for the first time.

Not kindly.

“Grant,” I said softly, “you walked into my office during a live emergency broadcast.”

His face changed.

Just slightly.

Enough.

I turned one degree and pointed behind him toward the mounted camera above the glass wall.

A small red light glowed steadily.continue reading …