The press room in the Capitol Visitor Center smelled of stale coffee and ozone. It was a specific scent, unique to Washington, generated by the friction of too many electronics in a sealed space. I stood behind the podium, adjusting the microphone. The lights were blinding, turning the audience into a void of darkness. I couldn't see the reporters, but I could hear them. The shuffle of papers. The click of cameras. The murmur of voices checking sound levels.
Catherine Mills stood to my left. She looked composed, but I saw her fingers tapping against her thigh. A nervous tic. She was taking a risk introducing this bill. Her career was on the line. My foundation was already a target; she was a sitting Senator. If this failed, if this was laughed out of the committee, her reputation would ta
