"Not quite." Molly pulls a face, nose wrinkling, a teasing sort of self-deprecation. "It was the plan back there, too, but I never got that far. I was an intern on a presidential campaign when I got here." When she died, that is, but that's hardly something she wants to think about, let alone admit to. The point is that she can do more here, that she already has, that she'll continue to do so. "Not the most glamorous job, but everyone's gotta start somewhere."

In a way, it had been a point of pride, too. Had she wanted to do otherwise, she wouldn't have needed to start at the bottom; her father's position, the connections she had, the people she grew up around, would have seen to that. While Paul might have secured the internship for her, she still wanted to make sure everything she did was on her own merits, that she didn't rely on her name or seem to. Of course, that wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference if and when the story broke — she'd still have been Jack Stearns' daughter then — but before that, it meant everything.