“You’ve been digging,” Rachel said without preamble.
Now, Rachel sat in her silent Georgetown kitchen, the city’s lights blurring through rain-streaked windows. The text was from an anonymous number, but she knew the signature: terse, confident, and damning. Gavin had been quiet lately. Too quiet. He’d stopped taking her calls, started hiring his own staff, and last week, he’d voted against a bill she’d personally lobbied him to support. He wasn’t just distancing himself—he was preparing for war. rachel steele gavin
She met him at dawn in a deserted corner of the National Mall, the Lincoln Memorial looming like a stone ghost. Gavin arrived in a dark overcoat, his boyish face hardened by sleepless ambition. “You’ve been digging,” Rachel said without preamble
Gavin stared at her, the fight draining from his shoulders. He had come to confront a mentor. He had found an enemy. Gavin had been quiet lately
Rachel smiled. It was the smile of a woman who had already played every move on the board.