In the Mayor's Office, John Murphy's forehead was beaded with sweat.
Leo looked at Murphy, his gaze steady.
He didn't speak, but his eyes offered silent support to the Congressman, who was on the verge of a breakdown.
Just a few seconds ago, Murphy had told the person on the other end of the line that he was going to run for Senator.
A suffocating silence followed from the other end of the line.
Sweat trickled down his temples, dripping onto the collar of his expensive suit.
Finally, a voice came through the receiver.
Daniel Sanders's voice was unusually calm—so calm it was unsettling.
"Go on."
Just two short words.
But to Murphy, those two words were nothing less than a pardon.
Murphy took a deep breath. He glanced at Leo, who gave a slight nod and made a firm, downward slicing motion in the air with his hand.
