EMBER
Ember could feel her thigh aching, even a month after a successful surgery. She stood behind a blue velvet curtain, feeling out of place in her pencil skirt and her bright red lipstick. She felt like she should still be in Efrana with Slide, doing some good instead of standing there sweating and wringing her hands.
Ember walked into a sea of lights bearing down on her like a thousand suns. She had been trained for this. She knew what it was all about. She had sat with her father a thousand times before the presidential cabinet, taking notes, reminding him of the points to hit while she sank into the shadows.
However, it was different being the center of attention. Her publicist, who had worked with her father before, informed her that there wasn’t much for her to say beyond remain
