CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
3:05 a.m. Eastern Standard Time
The White House Residence
Washington, DC
The clock on the kitchen wall was an ornate holdover from an earlier time.
Made of wood, its face covered in rounded glass, the numbers in Latin. It had a pendulum of yellow metal that hung down beneath the face, and which swung back and forth, softly but incessantly.
Tick, tick, tick…
A moment ago, when the clock struck III, a single gong sounded. The clock always gonged once, no matter what the hour.
Now the seconds were racing by again, the pendulum swinging, as the short, slow hour arm began its inevitable descent toward IV.
The clock was the only sound in the room.
Susan sat alone at the alcove table in the family kitchen, eating a 3 a.m. snack. Organic chocolate ice cream with froze
