Her dad had slipped her a hundred dollar bill on the way out the door. "I know you'll be just fine," he'd told her. "You're a smart girl."

But they had a deal. She'd place the $100 in an envelope in her wallet and keep it as a reserve. She could take a try at this little journey into politics, she could attempt to reinvent herself. But if it didn't work out, if they didn't offer her a job, she'd know when to cut her losses. When she was out of money, she'd come home. She'd open the reserve envelope, fill up her gas tank and drive west. Back to Wisconsin. Back to her old life. And that would be that.

She was down to her last five dollars, the lone bill stuffed in front of the reserve envelope in her wallet. Josh had been doing his best to get her on salary, she knew that. And in the mean time he'd been paying out of pocket for her room, and picking up any meal she hadn't skipped in addition to anything else he could manage. It had been strange, really. Every time she would have to pay for something, especially recently, he'd be right there, stepping in and handing his credit card over to the clerk as quickly as he could.

And that was only if he hadn't been two steps ahead of her, conveniently needing to do his laundry the same evenings as Donna, and always having extra quarters and detergent he'd insist she use. Some days it felt like he knew the end was near, and perhaps he was prolonging what seemed to be the inevitable. But Donna was sure she was dreaming up far fetched ideas after watching one too many romance movies. After all, she'd never said a word to him about the reserve money.

But Donna couldn't avoid it anymore. She stood in line at the drug store and handed over the cash for her $4.79 item.

She was completely dejected as she deposited her change into her coin pouch. She knew what this meant. It was time. She'd have to tender her resignation and drive back to Madison. It had been a good run, she thought as she walked slowly towards their makeshift offices. Her time on the Bartlet campaign felt like it was too good to be true. And apparently it was.

She didn't stop to speak with anyone on the way to the small desk outside of Josh's office that she now called hers.

She stood quietly for a moment and watched him work, standing behind his desk, his phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he rifled through a stack of folders, talking a mile a minute. She watched him for a moment. She knew she was going to miss his chaotic brilliance.

She sat down at her desk, placing her purse next to her and working up the strength to pen a letter of resignation. It was the last thing she wanted to do but she couldn't think of any way around of it. She was out of money. And it felt like she was out of options.

She pulled out her top drawer and immediately froze. There, right in the middle of her neatly organized office supplies, was a crisp $1 bill with a post it note, bearing Josh's crabbed handwriting.

Please don't leave me.

How did he know?

She dared to glance up through the window to his office and found him staring at her, wide eyed and completely still amongst the surrounding madness. There was a vulnerability about him that she was certain she'd never seen before.

She gave him a soft smile, doing her best to keep her tears of gratitude at bay. He met her gaze, the slight hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the two seemed to speak volumes with only a look. Donna gave the slightest nod of her head. It would have been completely imperceptible unless someone was watching for it. And he was. She swore that for a fleeting moment she could see abject relief wash over him before returned to his chaos.

Donna opened the white reserve envelope and emptied its contents into her billfold. She wouldn't need it to get home to Wisconsin because she wasn't going back. She was going to stay here, with the campaign. With Josh.

She trusted him.

And the rest? Well, that would be history . . .