This is part 7 of the serialized story What Brings You Back Home. Go here to start at the beginning, or pick up where you left off: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Sunday morning the housekeeping cart in the hallway wakes her. Rebecca feels hungover, raw, and there are a few seconds of oblivion before she comes fully to, remembering what she did last night. She turns on the television, tunes in to local news: live video of the Senator’s wife stepping across a tarmac in Cleveland, climbing the stairs into a private plane. Today, the wife is not poised. She looks harried, wrecked. Her hair isn’t done. She is not wearing jewelry. Her long white slacks—obviously hemmed for heels, though she is wearing sneakers—drag the ground.