"How do you know Lisa?" Kyle asked.
A disgusting feeling rose from within me at the memories his question brought up, but I forced it down and shrugged.
"Does it matter? You know what you should do."
It had been 14 years ago. Back then, Kyle's political career was just kicking off, and his family had just welcomed new members—twins, a boy and a girl.
Having to travel for work, he left his wife and children at home, promising to return with gifts.
It was a shame he never got to see them again.
Three days after his trip, his wife had called him, sobbing. She said she and the kids had been poisoned. She described how their little toddlers had foamed at the mouth and how she had become paralyzed—how no matter how much she screamed, no one came to her aid.
The police were taking forever to respond, and now all she had was him.
It was an unforgettable day for Kyle. Try as he might, all the way from Washington, he couldn't get help to his wife in New York.
