Emily brushed off the lapels of the blazer she'd borrowed from Isabel. They hadn't exactly found any clothing stores open right now. Emily ran her eyes over the transcript in her hand, noting the few amendments she'd made in the short time she'd had to edit the speech. It had been about three hours since the explosion. It was time to address the country. The country she was now supposed to lead out of this mess. She remembered watching Tom give his speech from the Oval Office desk when he was in this position. How nervous he'd been, cautious to read every word on the teleprompter properly, desperate to try and sound confident as he spoke.

He'd been so honest, so solemn. It still hurt to think of how far he'd fallen, how, in only a couple of years, he'd regressed to the same level of underhandedness as his fellow politicians. The ones he'd sworn for so long that he'd never become like. The ones he'd openly shamed, the whole motivation and ethos behind his decision to stand as an independent. When she'd confronted him that last time, he'd seemed to insist it was a matter of circumstance, that he didn't have a choice. Emily realised that now being in the very position he'd been in would put all that to the test.

Part of her felt determined to prove him wrong, to prove that she could and would do this, but do it right. She'd stick to her principles, she wouldn't sell out, and she wouldn't let anybody try and manipulate her into being a puppet for something she didn't believe in. But at the same time, she was scared. She had experience with the inner workings of the White House, yes. She had intimate knowledge of how it all worked. But still, she wondered if she was going to be taken advantage of. Somebody would eventually see through the mask she was desperately trying to put up and realise just how vulnerable she was, in a state of unbearable grief that hadn't quite hit yet. Emily realised she was an easy target. It wouldn't take long for someone to make her look like a fool. She hadn't checked the news on her phone since she'd gotten here, but it wouldn't surprise her if details of her mother's death were already plastered everywhere as some indication of her political views and what she considered ethical.

Emily took a deep breath now, sitting down. Briefly, she met Isabel's eyes again. Lyor stood not too far from her, his eyes wide as though still trying to process it all. She couldn't blame him. Kendra and Trey were apparently at the hospital with Penny now. Sasha was still in surgery, but she supposed no news was good news. Andrea was still trying to get a flight from San Francisco. At least that part of her mind could calm down, knowing a few things were sorted.

The camera operator counted down with his fingers, the almost unnoticeable chatter of the Oval Office falling silent as the teleprompter started to scroll. Emily looked directly into the camera, digging her nails into her palms discreetly as her hands were clasped tightly on the desk. She had to look strong. She had to look capable. She had to look like she could do this.

"My fellow Americans…"

She cleared her throat again.

"Tonight, a horrific tragedy came upon our country. A tragedy that killed President Tom Kirkman and Vice President Aaron Shore, among others. As a result, I, Emily Rhodes, former Chief of Staff to Tom Kirkman, am now the acting president of the United States. Before he became more commonly known to you all as our president, I worked under Tom Kirkman when he was the secretary of Housing and Urban Development."

If only she could go back to when things were simple. When her mother wasn't battling a horrific disease. When she felt able and in a good position to do her job, rather than riddled with imposter syndrome like she was now. When Tom and his family were safe and happy.

"He was a great man. And he will be dearly missed by the American people. I understand now that many of you are likely afraid. After all, there is something to be said about the fact that I have been sworn in under very much the same circumstances as Tom Kirkman. The bombing at the Capitol that had killed President Richmond and most of his cabinet led to his presidency, as the bombing of the Park View arena that killed Tom Kirkman and most of his cabinet has now led to mine. But now is not the time to be fearful. Now is not the time to worry about the integrity of this nation because I can assure you, with my years of experience, I can and will lead this nation out of the darkness, just as Tom promised you."

It still felt like a lie. The FBI had no leads so far on the perpetrator. There was no hope that solving this mystery would happen sooner rather than later. If it was some foreign enemy, the fear of war would be struck into the hearts of the American people. If it was a domestic group, or God forbid, people from either Tom's independent, the Democratic, or the Republican party, how in the world was she going to convince people to have faith in the government? As Emily pondered this, she was surprised just how much she cared and was already considering the American people as those she owed, those she had a duty to serve.

The rest of the speech read well, and Emily found herself believing the words more and more. No matter what she thought, she had to give the people hope, tangible belief that the country would recover again, just as it had four years ago.

"You did good, Em," Lyor said. They'd managed to sneak away to one of the conference rooms, fudging some story that she was briefing him as a returning staff member.

She shrugged. "Reading from a script is the easy part. Following through is a little different."

"Still… you showed your face. You told the American people to have faith, and they will."

Emily scoffed quietly.

"Hey. I'd like to see one of those asshole journalists try to pull it together in your position."

"I guess…" She muttered. "Still... I'm terrified. I can't afford to make any mistakes here. And I refuse to let myself stoop to new lows. I can't let myself turn into a lying scumbag."

She'd confided in him somewhat about Tom's change of character. No confidential details, of course, but he was a good friend, one she trusted to believe her and understand.

"You're not going to. You're so aware of that, you can't possibly-"

"So was Tom," Emily reminded him. "I remember Tom telling me the same thing, that he would never corrupt himself. And look what happened."

"Well, at the end of the day… if ghosts or Heaven or whatever is real - I doubt it - but anyway, the point is, I don't think Tom would want anybody else standing here in his place right now more than you. I think he'd be proud you're trying to do it right."

Emily smiled a little, feeling better than she had before.

If she had the right people on her team, she couldn't go wrong, right?

Because, at the end of the day, this was her job now.

And she'd been damned if she didn't do it the way she wanted to.