CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
February 4
8:15 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
The White House Residence
Washington, DC
“How does it feel to always be right?” Susan said.
Stone shrugged. He looked down at the glass of red wine in his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Susan was dressed the way she always preferred—like a teenager. She wore an old pair of blue jeans, so faded and ripped they were practically falling off her body. She wore a hooded pale blue sweatshirt. She wore pink fuzzy socks on her feet—the floors here were cold at night. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail.
She and Stone sat across from each other at the small round alcove table in the Family Kitchen. There was a bottle of red wine on the table. She was drinking it, and in fact was on her second glass—he was still w
