Yet Veronica knew the likelihood of the future president keeping kidnapped children in his home the day of the election was minuscule. And the possibility of him revealing their location to her was zero. But it still seemed like their next illogical step. Any attempt to get there by car would be near impossible. The small town was packed with heavy security, clashing supporters and protestors, and practically every news outlet in the world. So Veronica began to run toward the mansion. Zach caught up to her and made a convincing argument that her mad dash might garner some unwanted attention from the security force. She thought of those guys outside of Sterling’s with the machine-guns, and knew he was right. So they walked. Veronica’s fashion slavery was backfiring, as the boots were killing her feet. But she figured they might come in handy when she put her foot into Kingston’s ribs. And Mr. Head of Security, Eddie Peterson, better be wearing a cup when she got a hold of him. As they walked, Veronica mentally untangled the branches of Ellen’s family tree; from the dark roots to the blooming of the new buds, Maggie and Jamie.
