His eyes wide, he covered the microphone with one hand. “What are you doing here?”
I smiled and walked up to the lectern, forcing Drake to step aside as I lowered the microphone to my level. It screeched with the movement, and once I was satisfied, I scanned the reporters who were watching, some gazing at me openmouthed as others whispered among themselves.
“I apologize for the interruption.”
Hundreds of lights flashed from cameras, making it hard for me to see. Louder chatter filled the room, but I needed to continue. I swallowed the lump in my throat and composed myself. I’d been rushing around, and was sure I was glistening from the fine sheen of sweat that covered my skin.
“Hello. My name is Lucy Washburn. There have been questions about Senator Prescott’s dedication to his office because of me. I can’t and won’t stand idly by and let this man’s name be dragged through the mud because of me. He’s one of the best men I know, the best senator I’ve ever seen, and hopefully one day he’ll be the president of the United States.”
I glanced at him before returning my attention to the audience, and caught the eye of the vile reporter from the National Reveal who had started this nonsense, making sure to emphasize my thoughts.
“You’ve asked me questions and I’ve avoided them, but I had my reasons. But my reasons are selfish, and not good enough for Senator Prescott to continue with his speech as planned.”
“Lucy . . .”
I heard the concern as Drake said my name, but ignored him. “You see, he was going to come here today and renounce his candidacy.”
The audience erupted into chaos. I held my hand up to try to mute the noise, but it didn’t work very well, so I just continued and raised my voice.
“Not because he doesn’t want to serve the office, but to protect me.”
I glanced at Drake and when our eyes met, he shook his head.
Turning back to the microphone, I said, “You wanted to know my story, and I’m here to tell it. I want to put the mystery behind the mystery woman to rest. My name is Lucy Washburn, but that wasn’t the name I was born with . . .” With my heart in my throat, I told them the same story I’d told Drake and his family.
The audience tittered as Drake placed his hand on my shoulder and gently tried to pull me back, but I remained rooted to my spot.
When I glanced out to the crowd, and most of the women were nodding while the men remained impassive.
I continued to block out the cameras and noise, taking comfort instead from the hand Drake rested on the small of my back.
“When I told this wonderful man next to me my story, he didn’t judge me or feel sorry for me, he supported me because that’s what he does. That’s who he is. He fights for those who can’t fight for themselves. He’ll fight for you the same way he fought for me, and that’s why I can’t let him go through with this.”
After wetting lips that had suddenly gone dry, I said, “I studied education because it’s imperative to teach our youth the importance of knowing our past so they would be in a better position to shape our future. So that when they were old enough to vote, they’d be able to knowledgeably decide for themselves who is the best person for the position. And in this case, it’s Drake Prescott. I know his opponents will spin this and say it was all a media ploy, but I can assure you it’s not.”
I turned toward Drake. “This country needs you. I need you. Please fight for not only those who don’t have a voice, but for your own voice to be heard.”
Drake said my name, but I turned and leaned toward the microphone.
“I don’t want to take more of your time because Senator Prescott still has an announcement to make. If any of you have questions for me, I’ll leave my contact information with the senator’s campaign manager.”
After I had taken one last look at the crowd, I smiled. “Thank you for your time.”