{"id":1223,"date":"2009-03-19T11:11:52","date_gmt":"2009-03-19T16:11:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=1223"},"modified":"2009-03-19T11:11:52","modified_gmt":"2009-03-19T16:11:52","slug":"red-white-and-blue-by-laura-hayden","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=1223","title":{"rendered":"Red, White, and Blue by Laura Hayden"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span><\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
Laura Hayden <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Red, White, and Blue<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Tyndale House Publishers (February 5, 2009)<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>Born and raised in Birmingham, Alabama, Laura Hayden began her reading career at the age of four. By the time she was ten, she\u2019d exhausted the children\u2019s section in the local library and switched to adult mysteries. Although she always loved to write, she became sidetracked in college where differential equations outweighed dangling participles. But one engineering degree, one wedding, two kids, and three military assignments later, she ended up in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where she met people who shared her passion for writing. With their support, instruction, and camaraderie, she set and met her goal of selling her first book. She has now published ten novels and several short stories.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $13.99
\nPaperback: 352 pages
\nPublisher: Tyndale House Publishers (February 5, 2009)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 1414319401
\nISBN-13: 978-1414319407<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Kate Rosen sat on the edge of the stage, the large hotel ballroom stretching beyond her, long emptied of people. The only things left behind were the detritus of a grand night of celebration\u2014balloons skimming over the carpet, trampled paper streamers, discarded signs, and swags of limp bunting that sagged against the walls.<\/p>\n

No more cameras, no strobe lights, no cheering throng.<\/p>\n

The exuberant but exhausted audience had finally faded away hours earlier, the journalists following suit shortly afterward. America had finally gone to bed, either celebrating or lamenting the fact that that they\u2019d just elected their first female president.<\/p>\n

Kate cherished the silence. She needed someplace where she could collect her thoughts, which had been shattered tonight. She\u2019d discovered things she could hardly believe even still about her best friend. And she\u2019d been disillusioned in a way that nobody, even a politician\u2019s top aide, was prepared to be. Her headache and heartache had been made worse by the oppressive crush of supporters commemorating their candidate\u2019s\u2014her candidate\u2019s\u2014triumph. Once Emily and her entourage, minus Kate, went upstairs, the party had finally broken up and the ballroom’s capacity crowd started to stream home for their own private celebrations.<\/p>\n

But Kate\u2019s ears still rang with the sound of more than a thousand people cheering, screaming their support of their candidate.<\/p>\n

\u201cBenton! Benton! Benton!\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily Rousseau Benton, former governor of Virginia, Kate\u2019s best friend, had been elected president of the United States, in no small part due to Kate\u2019s hard work. Emily\u2019s race for the White House had dominated both of their lives for the past four years. Everything Kate did, every action she took as Emily\u2019s campaign manager, had been done solely in support of her friend\u2019s bid for the presidency.<\/p>\n

And now that Emily had won, Kate was alone, horrified at the prospect that she might have made a terrible mistake.<\/p>\n

She slipped down from the stage riser and kicked idly at the balloons in her path, creating a slight rippling effect across the bubbled mass of them. An occasional balloon still floated down from the ceiling, a day late and a dollar short.<\/p>\n

Kate\u2019s most recent revelation had been like that, one day too late. . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Kate.\u201d<\/p>\n

A lone voice penetrated the silence. She stiffened in surprise and raised her hand to shade her eyes and get a better look at the person standing on the balcony. Her mood lightened and her shoulders relaxed when she realized who had spoken.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Wes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cY’all all right? Need some company?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded.<\/p>\n

It was a classic Southern salutation, and the familiarity of it was oddly comforting. Then again, Wes Kingsbury always knew what to say\u2014he was equal parts her friend and her spiritual mentor. Disappearing into the shadows, Wes emerged a few moments later from the staircase leading to the balcony box.<\/p>\n

Kate glanced at her watch and stifled a yawn\u20143:46. That was a.m. Too early to be called morning, too late to be called night. The true dark hours of the human soul, when body rhythm and spirit were at their lowest point.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe you\u2019re still here,\u201d she said. The man had a wife and a small child, a real world and home to which he could return. He hadn\u2019t closed his life down to a single obsessively sought goal. That had been her mistake.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I can\u2019t believe you\u2019re not upstairs. M\u2019s still up in the suite, partying hearty.\u201d<\/p>\n

She kicked at a balloon, stirring up a small whirl of color. \u201cI know. I\u2019m not in much of a party mood.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I see.\u201d He fell into step next to her. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on? I would have thought you\u2019d be thrilled. This was the goal, right?\u201d He pointed to an abandoned placard: Benton\/Bochner \u201908.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was. It is.\u201d She couldn\u2019t help but shiver. \u201cIt\u2019s complicated.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s Emily. It\u2019s always complicated.\u201d He chuckled, then sighed. \u201cOkay, what has she done now?\u201d At Kate\u2019s hesitation, he added, \u201cIt\u2019s got something to do with Talbot, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Charles Talbot had been Emily\u2019s opponent in her race for the White House. As such, he\u2019d pulled out all the stops to find all the dirt he could on his challenger. Kate, as Emily\u2019s friend and ally for more than twenty years, had been positive there was no dirt to be found.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d been so wrong. . . .<\/p>\n

Talbot\u2019s investigators discovered that Emily\u2019s family had illegally won important highway construction contracts in Virginia while Emily was the state\u2019s governor.<\/p>\n

When Kate learned his camp was prepared to release this information, the only way she could stop him was to explain to him exactly the unsavory facts that her own investigations had uncovered on him\u2014details she\u2019d kept out of Emily\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n

The last thing Kate had wanted was her friend to strike an ill-timed and unnecessary first blow\u2014using a nuke when a nudge would have worked just as well. She\u2019d learned the hard way that Emily, though a talented politician, wasn\u2019t exactly good at being subtle when she had a bigger weapon handy. But when Talbot made his big, bold move to not only discredit Emily but take down her family by attempting to dismantle the entire Benton legacy, Kate had intervened by threatening to use her opposition research.<\/p>\n

Talbot had killed . . . and Kate felt that she had no choice but to remind him of the lengths to which he\u2019d gone to cover up his own crimes. She had the bloody proof that he\u2019d been criminally negligent, if not morally responsible, in the grisly death of his college girlfriend. Talbot might have maneuvered his way out of the scandal, but Kate had the goods on him\u2014incontrovertible evidence.<\/p>\n

If released to the public, her evidence would have been sufficient to end his campaign, destroy his reputation, and possibly land him in jail for a long, long time. Talbot saw the light and backed down from his threats.<\/p>\n

So Talbot had been stopped. The situation had served to cement Kate\u2019s resolve that Emily Benton would make a far better president than her opponent. Emily was a policy wonk who knew her stuff, she was talented at getting things done, she worked hard for the people she represented, and she was charismatic enough to persuade even those who opposed her to allow time for her ideas to have a chance to work. In other words, Emily was the best politician of her time.<\/p>\n

However, Kate soon learned not only that her actions had made Talbot her enemy for life, but also that no one ever wins in a competition of \u201cwho has the best blackmail\u201d because the games like that never end. She\u2019d felt sickened, soiled, and finally betrayed.<\/p>\n

Kate drew a deep breath. \u201cEmily found out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wes straightened for a moment. He\u2019d been one of only two confidants who knew the sins of both candidates, other than the candidates themselves.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout . . .\u201d Wes paused and glanced around as if gauging the likelihood of being overheard. Even though no one was in sight, he kept his voice low. \u201cAbout the ammunition you had? How?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told her I\u2019d stopped Talbot, but I refused to tell her how. I didn\u2019t think she needed to know. So in the middle of the night, my best friend M sent one of her prot\u00e9g\u00e9s to \u2018borrow\u2019 the report from me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Prot\u00e9g\u00e9s\u2019?\u201d Wes\u2019s gaze narrowed. \u201cMaia,\u201d he said in a flat voice.<\/p>\n

Kate nodded. \u201cOur very own ingenue in training.\u201d She stared across the vast ballroom, watching a piece of bunting as it slipped from the balcony railing and wafted gently to the floor. \u201cThough apparently she\u2019s more iron maiden than ingenue. Scruples don\u2019t seem to concern her. I rip my heart out every day, trying to find the right balance between my Christian convictions and loyalty to my country and to my friends\u2014especially Emily. I want to make a difference in the world, make people\u2019s lives better. I don\u2019t always like how I do it. Maia didn\u2019t have a second thought when Emily asked her to steal the reports from me in the middle of the night. She made copies, then replaced the originals so I wouldn\u2019t know. Then Emily had Maia contact Talbot with what you\u2019d call a very thinly veiled threat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wes read between the lines. \u201cDestroying any hope of the campaign staying out of the gutter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. But then came the weird part. It did\u2014stay out of the gutter, I mean.\u201d A shiver coursed up her spine and she crossed her arms in an effort to combat it. \u201cButtoned up tighter than Fort Knox. Maybe my way wasn\u2019t effective enough. Maybe Emily\u2019s decision to send him a second threat was the only real way to stop him.\u201d A second tremor joined the first, and Kate knew it wasn\u2019t because she was cold. \u201cMaybe I was wrong. Or maybe I\u2019m in the wrong business. Or maybe I\u2019m simply overreacting.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr maybe not.\u201d<\/p>\n

They took several more steps through the remains of the revelry before Kate stopped. She reached down and rescued a placard bearing Emily\u2019s likeness.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn any case, I don\u2019t know . . .\u201d She hated how her voice broke when she spoke. \u201cI don\u2019t know if I can stay. If I can continue working with her. She lied to me, stole from me. Maia actually expected me to be impressed by their cleverness. Emily knew better. But she set it up anyway.\u201d She studied the picture plastered across the placard. Emily\u2019s resolute smile looked effortless despite the fact it\u2019d taken the photographer over two hours to capture the perfect expression.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have very high standards for your behavior.\u201d Wes took a few more steps, then stopped, pivoting to face her, his hands jammed in his pockets. \u201cEmily\u2019s a lot more flexible; she\u2019s a big proponent for \u2018the end justifies the means.\u2019 You know that. I know that. The question is, can you tolerate that? Jesus himself said, \u2018Render unto Caesar that which was Caesar\u2019s.\u2019 But there have to be consequences when a person crosses the line. Nobody\u2019s above the law, not even Emily\u2014though she\u2019d probably argue that point. The big question you have to answer here is what is the right thing for your faith and the right thing for the world. Think hard about that and then move forward. I\u2019ll pray for you. I know it\u2019s going to be a tough decision.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kate looked up from Emily\u2019s compelling expression, the look in her eyes that said, You know you can trust me. \u201cA decision I was hoping you\u2019d help me make.\u201d<\/p>\n

To her utter surprise, Wes shook his head. \u201cNope.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He raised his palm to stop her. \u201cHear me out. I\u2019m always willing to offer advice, lend a hand or even a shoulder, but when it comes to something like this, you need to work with a higher authority.\u201d He pointed upward.<\/p>\n

Kate managed to conjure up a tight smile. \u201cSomehow, I don\u2019t think you mean President-Elect Benton in the penthouse suite.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNope. A lot higher.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

They rode up the elevator in silence. It wasn\u2019t until they reached the door to the suite, flanked by Secret Service agents, that Wes hesitated.<\/p>\n

Kate fought the urge to say, \u201cYou\u2019re going in with me, aren\u2019t you?\u201d She realized she needed to speak to Emily in private. If any of the campaign entourage still hung about, Kate would have to bide her time, smile, make nice with the natives, and wait for her chance after all the hoopla finally ended. It had been relatively easy to have the candidate\u2019s ear in private, but getting the attention of the next president would be more complicated.<\/p>\n

She practiced her smile on the two agents, whose names she needed to learn. Then she stopped herself.<\/p>\n

Or maybe after tonight it wouldn\u2019t matter.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is where I say good-bye.\u201d Wes leaned over and kissed her forehead. \u201cAnd good luck. Let me know what happens.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. I will,\u201d she whispered. Drawing in a deep breath, Kate reached for the doorknob, but the agent on the right beat her to it.<\/p>\n

\u201cAllow me, Ms. Rosen.\u201d He opened the door.<\/p>\n

It was a testament to the construction of the hotel that she heard little in the way of sound from the suite until the door opened. Then a cacophony of laughter and voices met her, the celebration evidently still in full swing. The crowd had dwindled some, but an impressive number of folks still lingered, including several of Washington\u2019s biggest power players, senior members of the party, a large assortment of Benton family members, and some of the key campaign staffers.<\/p>\n

Kate didn\u2019t see Emily at first but finally spotted her in a corner of the room, holding court. They made eye contact and Emily raised her hand as if saying, Over here and motioned Kate over. In response, Kate began to pick her way through the clusters of people. She was stopped every foot or so to be congratulated, hugged, and offered a drink.<\/p>\n

She felt odd accepting the accolades, but she had no trouble waving off the libations. The last thing she needed was the muddle of alcohol. She could only hope that Emily had kept a clear head as well.<\/p>\n

Before Kate could reach Emily\u2019s position, she bumped into a rather solid male form. Before she could recover her balance, a hand grasped her elbow and she was hit in the face with a cloud of whiskey breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cKatie-girl!\u201d Emily\u2019s old family adviser Dozier Marsh pulled her into an awkward embrace. He might have looked like someone\u2019s sainted grandfather, but it was as far from what he really was as the North Pole from Antarctica. He was the ultimate political fixer\u2014a devious, dangerous old power broker with a fondness for hard liquor and Emily, though not always in that order. And right now, he was acting like a lecherous uncle.<\/p>\n

Great-uncle.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere you been, darlin\u2019?\u201d he wheezed. \u201cHard to have a party without Emily\u2019s right-hand gal!\u201d He tried to swing her around. The move would have made them both fall over had the young aide standing next to him not reached up and steadied him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSir, perhaps you\u2019d rather sit,\u201d the aide said.<\/p>\n

Dozier gave Kate a grin and leaned heavily against his aide. \u201cI suspect you\u2019re right, Percy. The room is definitely leaning to one side.\u201d He dropped heavily into the nearest chair, managing to spill two drinks that were abandoned on the nearby end table. He stared blearily at the mess. \u201cWould you be a dear, Kate, and get me a couple of cocktail napkins so I can clean up behind my sorry, drunken self? I\u2019d ask Perry here, but he\u2019s playing a key role in supporting me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, Dozier . . .\u201d Emily\u2019s voice knifed neatly through the chatter, instantly commanding the attention of the room. \u201cYou\u2019re not asking the future White House chief of staff to be your fetch-it girl, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dozier\u2019s ruddy complexion deepened. \u201cOf c-course not, Emily. . . . I mean . . .\u201d He pulled awkwardly to his feet, away from his aide, and managed a small stiff bow without falling over. \u201cMadam President.\u201d<\/p>\n

The room went silent, no one quite sure what direction Emily\u2019s response might head next.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve never really liked being called \u2018madam.\u2019\u201d After a tense millisecond, Emily allowed a smile to spread across her face. \u201cBut I guess I\u2019ll get used to it, if president gets to follow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dozier, freed from the sharp conversational hook on which he\u2019d impaled himself, offered a weaker version of her smile and lifted the drink he\u2019d never lost grip of. \u201cHear, hear.\u201d<\/p>\n

With the momentary tension broken, the room went back to its earlier state\u2014celebrating people clustering in small discussion knots. Dozier\u2019s aide, a young man whose name was neither Percy nor Perry but Zack, distracted Dozier with something shiny, giving Kate a chance to escape. Once again, Emily gestured for Kate to follow her and led to the bedroom portion of the suite.<\/p>\n

Once the door was closed behind them, Emily gave her a warm hug. \u201cI was starting to get worried about you.\u201d She gave Kate a close scrutiny. \u201cHoney, you look like the weight of the free world is still on your shoulders. But the campaign\u2019s over. We won. You can afford to relax now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I can\u2019t.\u201d Kate said. She bit her lip before her words started pouring out, uncontrolled and bitter. She wanted to be completely in control of her emotions before she confronted Emily.<\/p>\n

Emily sighed, obviously ignorant of the battle brewing inside Kate. \u201cI know. I feel the same way. Campaigning is hard work, but nothing compared to running a country.\u201d She dropped to the bed. \u201cIf I allowed myself a chance to stop and think about what I\u2019m taking on, I\u2019d probably run out of this hotel screaming like the Madwoman of Chaillot.<\/p>\n

\u201cRemember when we went to New York on spring break back when we were in school? How we jumped on our beds at the Waldorf-Astoria hotel and had a pillow fight? Mom was horrified, but Dad told me that he hoped I\u2019d never get too old to bounce on the bed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Kate said. Decades of memories came crashing down upon her. Room service, going to plays, Emily\u2019s genuine pleasure at sharing the treat with her friend. The phrase had become an inside joke, a motto for that trip and later, the watchwords for those times when the responsibilities of law school\u2014and beyond\u2014threatened to drag them down.<\/p>\n

When Nick and Emily got married, their gift to each bridesmaid included a sterling silver box engraved with that motto. Kate still had that box sitting in a place of honor on her dresser.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d The next president of the United States, the Honorable Emily Rousseau Benton, took off her shoes and took a few experimental bounces on the bed as if to test the bed\u2019s recoil potential.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot today.\u201d Kate tried to smile, desperately wanting to recapture that same sense of giddy accomplishment that Emily evidently felt. Kate had indeed expected to feel a sense of joyous triumph when thinking ahead to this day. But now her heart was too heavy, her mind too burdened with the difficult decision that lay ahead of her.<\/p>\n

Emily stopped jumping, the bed undulating in her wake. \u201cWhy not?\u201d she said. The confusion that initially filled her face dissolved into an expression that Kate couldn\u2019t quite understand. Then it passed almost immediately to a tight, guarded smile. \u201cYou have a point. I need to be dignified. Somehow, I don\u2019t think the White House curator is going to let anyone jump on the bed in the Lincoln Bedroom. Not you. Not even me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not what I meant.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily locked eyes with her for a moment. Then she turned away, unable to hold the contact for long. A Benton never crumbled under pressure. A real Benton dodged it. The president-elect slid off the bed, pulled on her heels, and straightened her skirt. She didn\u2019t meet Kate\u2019s gaze.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right. We\u2019re both exhausted. You\u2019ve always dealt with exhaustion in different ways than I do. Why don\u2019t you take off a\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m exhausted. But that\u2019s not the problem. I\u2019m confused. Angry. And I\u2019m disappointed in you.\u201d Kate\u2019s heart took the extra beat it always did when she made the final decision to confront her best friend. \u201cYou didn\u2019t need to send Maia to steal the files from me. You should have talked to me about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d Emily spoke in a low, even voice. \u201cYou found out about that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kate nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t send her,\u201d Emily said. \u201cShe did that on her own, trying to curry my favor.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kate didn\u2019t know whom to believe. She knew Emily better than she knew herself in some ways. Emily was brilliant, capable, the best person imaginable to have around in an emergency. She was a born leader. But part of that leadership tool kit was that she would also stop at nothing when she wanted something. Of course, Maia was cut from the same cloth. Emily\u2019s words were plausible. \u201cSo did the favor currying work?\u201d She tried to keep any emotion out of her voice. \u201cDid she make a big impression on you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but it was a mixed bag. I thought Maia showed a remarkable amount of initiative, but I told her that she\u2019d chosen the wrong person to cross.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that didn\u2019t stop you from reading the reports, did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not. I\u2019d have been a fool to lose that unexpected opportunity. I\u2019m no fool. You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I do. And I guess that\u2019s why you instructed her to send the threatening e-mail to Talbot. Were you just taking advantage of another unexpected opportunity?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. It seemed the wise thing to do at the moment. He was a loose cannon. He needed to be locked down.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now? Are you still glad you did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily collapsed on the bed, her ice queen facade shattered. A single tear trickled down her face, leaving a glistening trail through her perfect makeup. \u201cNo. I regret it more than you\u2019ll ever know.\u201d She bent her head, trying desperately to hide the additional tears, but a sob tore through her, making her shoulders shake.<\/p>\n

Kate almost gaped at her friend. She\u2019d seen Emily\u2019s crocodile tears before. But they didn\u2019t look anything like this. This was the real thing.<\/p>\n

Real emotion. Real regret. . . .<\/p>\n

Emily continued. \u201cMind you, I didn\u2019t hate what I did to Charles Talbot. He\u2019s a pariah, an abomination. A murderer. He should never have been able to get away with driving that car while drunk, and leaving that poor girl behind, still clinging to life, to take the rap for his actions. Had he gotten her help at the time of the accident, she might have survived the crash as something other than a vegetable. But no, he had to save face, run away, pretend nothing had happened. He left her to die in that car. It took hours for anyone to discover the wreck. Then he had the audacity to bribe and threaten people into giving him an alibi. He had to make everyone think she\u2019d been the one driving while intoxicated, even if it killed her. He\u2019s the lowest of scumbags. I won\u2019t apologize for pricking whatever fragments he has left of his conscience. I\u2019m pretty sure all I did was dent his enormously bloated and unconscionable pride.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily\u2019s flare of anger dissipated quickly, as if she suddenly felt guilty of failing to be remorseful for her own actions. Kate knew that, for Emily, anger was an emotion easier to understand and embrace than remorse. Especially when she felt that anger was righteous. Emily could move mountains when she had on a full load of righteous anger. Kate had seen her shame an entire state legislature into voting for health insurance for disadvantaged children, all because she\u2019d vented her anger into a biting five-minute speech to them.<\/p>\n

Kate gave her friend a steady stare. \u201cWhat he did and what you did are separate issues. And you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d Emily\u2019s voice dropped to a whisper. \u201cYou\u2019re right. When Maia gave me those copies, I did exactly what you were afraid I was going to do.\u201d She looked up, naked emotion filling her face, tears rolling down her cheeks. \u201cI allowed my need for revenge to overwhelm my sense of honor. I\u2019m so sorry.\u201d She stood, her arms at her side. Her voice broke in a show of raw emotion that Kate had never seen from her before.<\/p>\n

\u201cKate, can you forgive me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kate felt tears forming in her own eyes.<\/p>\n

Could she forgive Emily? Of course she could. Christ was clear on the responsibility to forgive a repentant sinner. Kate could do no less.<\/p>\n

But could she trust Emily enough to continue working for her? That was another question entirely.<\/p>\n

For now, she reached over and hugged her friend. The two of them cried together for what seemed like hours.<\/p>\n

But the big question\u2014whether Kate would stay on after this\u2014hung over them. No matter how often Emily asked it, Kate refused to answer.<\/p>\n

Finally Emily said, \u201cTake some time, go home, cool off, and then we\u2019ll talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

As was often the case, Emily was right.<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1223","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1223","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1223"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1223\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1226,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1223\/revisions\/1226"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1223"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1223"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1223"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}