She freezes at the door.

"Are you alright?" It's the third time he'd asked her this since they'd left the Truman Building.

She lets out a breath. "Still processing."

He slips his phone into his jacket pocket. It had been an overwhelming day for quite possibly the entire Federal government. He was sure the adrenaline of it all was finally beginning to wean.

"Let's take a moment," he says.

She steps back from the double doors and leans her back against one of the pillars.

He sticks his hands into his pockets as he slowly follows her to the left side of the entrance.

"You did well today," he says.

Her stare is still on her shoes. She chuckles. "I'm more than glad to go back to a Cabinet member ranking."

She jokes now, but he knows. He saw her behind the Resolute desk, and he knew from the moment he first stepped into the Oval this morning that she'd be back.

She looks up and pushes away the strand of hair the wind kept pushing in front of her face. "I think fourth in line is a little too close."

"Is that all you're thinking about?" He can feel the warmth of the summer breeze that pushes against the side of his face.

A lot has unraveled in these past twenty-four hours. He didn't expect her to be fine, and he hopes she didn't either.

She shakes her head. "No." The fingers of her right hand begin to play with the bracelet on her left wrist.

"Tell me," he says.

"Well, there's the singing," she mumbles.

It was already handled. One look at her on the drive over and he knew there was no way she would be getting up on that stage. But he would let her decide for herself that she wouldn't be participating.

"And?"

"And then there's Stevie," she says.

Bingo. Henry had filled him in on the little issue that had popped up with their eldest. Oddly enough, the Secretary of State's daughter not only being found in a hotel room with the president's son but stashing his old stash of heroin, just so happened on the same day she was sworn in as president.

"She—"

"Henry told me," he cuts her off. He didn't need her to explain. She doesn't look surprised that her husband had filled him in.

"So, you know about the heroin?" She whispers.

He nods.

She huffs. "I just—" she looks off to the side and her mouth fumbles for words. "I don't know what the hell she's thinking anymore."

He wished he could tell her. It would sure make his job easier.

"She's still a kid," he reminds. Even without being a parent, he was usually on their side of the aisle, her and Henry's, but tonight he needed her to get over this hump quickly.

"A kid who's gotten far too many passes for screwing up," she says.

"But you love her."

She smiles. "I do."

His lips turn up. "That's what's most important."

She laughs. "Look at you." She points a finger at his chest. "Reminding me of the fundamentals that come with having a family."

She straightens up and brushes her palms along her dress.

"Just trying to help ma'am," he tells her as he waves an arm towards the door.

"Henry and I are still having her drug tested."

As they should.

Andrea pulls the right door open, and he ushers her inside. Frank and Matt follow closely.

She leans into him as they approach the ballroom. "And how did I forget about Craig Sterling," she mutters.

His eyebrows furrow. "Who?" He asks.

She pats his arm. "You'll find out soon enough," she says before she makes for the table in the middle.