The place was a labyrinth of halls and doors. Mark shoved his sunglasses onto Emily to prevent any questions from passersby about why her eyes were so red.
Finally, sometime after he was sure they were lost forever in the labyrinth of the White House’s lower levels and would never again see the light of day, she pulled out a key and handed it to him.
They’d come to a stop in front of a door bearing a small placard with her name.
He moved her inside and sat her on the bed. He found a tiny bath, wet a washcloth, and brought it to her. By the time he returned, she’d slid down to sit on the tile floor and leaned back against the bed.
As she wiped her face, he tried to back away. Tried to find somewhere to go, but there wasn’t anywhere. There was the bed, a small desk, and a dresser that al
