Chapter 6: The Price of a Name
Caroline’s face turned pale, finally understanding Dad’s real plan. Balance isn’t about pleasing both sides, but about making the right bet at the right time. No matter how favored the Governor’s son is, he’s just a pawn in the President’s game. The truly wise go all-in on the sure thing. This move was to show the President: the Connelly girls would rather marry a man with a fancy title than get caught up in the power struggle.
Caroline was still upset, stumbling as she asked, "If Dad’s chosen loyalty to the President, why still keep up with the Governor’s family?"
Mom slowly turned her pearl bracelets. "Silly girl, going to parties and galas is just what families like ours do. When the Governor hosts a party, everyone goes. If the Connellys don’t show, it’d look suspicious."
Faced with Mom’s blunt hint, Caroline suddenly got it. What Dad said years ago about doubling down on Rachel’s education was just bait, to see which daughter was better suited for D.C. What he wanted to see was, when faced with power and temptation, who could keep her cool, and who could hide her ambition. Rachel’s crush and Caroline’s scheming had long been obvious to someone as experienced as Dad.
"Rachel lost her reputation; if anyone should go to D.C., it should be me."
Mom picked up her coffee and sipped, then answered, "There are three kinds of smarts in this world: the lowest is scheming nonstop, the middle is keeping your head down, the highest is making everyone think you’re not clever at all."
At this, Caroline’s body shook. I hurried forward to steady her, pressing her wrist lightly. "You’re just tired, right? Why not thank Mom quickly?"
Caroline looked at me deeply. Though her eyes brimmed with resentment, now all turned to gloom. Dad had long seen that her cleverness was too sharp. If she went to D.C., she’d make waves. But Rachel, though she seemed naive, knew when to act. What Dad and the President wanted wasn’t the most brilliant, but the most useful piece.
After everyone left, Mom kept me behind. She picked up a celadon mug, steam curling as her gentle face turned watchful. "Do you think I’m cruel?"
I lowered my eyes, staring at the silver embroidery on my skirt, then looked up at the carefully pruned wisteria outside the window. "Everything in life comes at a price. No matter how gorgeous the rose, without the gardener’s shears, it’s just a weed by the road."
Mom nodded, her eyes full of approval. "Exactly. You’re young, but you see things clearly; that’s your strength." She paused, her tone cooling. "But as a daughter, your heart’s a bit cold."