It was still dark out when the phone beside Isabella's bed rang. She knew before answering it that it was Athenodora, but still said her groggy hello, then grumbled and hung up the phone.
"We need to get a move on if we're going to leave on time," Edward said behind her.
"I know. Do you need to get in the bathroom before I take it over?"
"No. I have my suit and toiletries in the Lincoln Bedroom's bathroom."
"All right, we'd better get out of bed."
Bella took her time getting ready, wanting to be presentable for the ceremony. It didn't matter how many times she said this wasn't a political move, people would think she chose to go to the ceremony in New York because it had a higher profile. But the framed photo she had chosen to hold told the true story. This was about honoring her mother. In twenty-seven years, she'd only missed the ceremony once, the year before. Even during the pandemic, she'd attended virtually.
The comb she slipped in above her bun was one of her mother's, as was the teardrop pendant she wore. Her suit was black, with a white blouse and heels, her left lapel held the American flag pin she always wore and the right had a pin she'd bought from the Trinity Church gift shop. It was a small, bronze-toned replica of the cross created by the steel beams of the North Tower at Ground Zero. Bella was struggling with the sky blue ribbon she was supposed to be wearing, unable to pin it on straight no matter how many times she tried.
"Here, let me," Edward offered. His outfit matched hers, right down to the ribbon he'd successfully attached to his lapel.
"I don't know why I'm so nervous. This is far from my first time."
"Yes, but you've never actively participated in the ceremony, even as one of the people to read the names. I know you well enough to know that you're afraid people will think you're grandstanding." The back of his fingers grazed her cheek, trying to ease her turmoil.
"According to the organizers, they've had mostly positive responses. People who go every year recognize me."
"Well, I saw Samuel in the hallway, so they appear to be all ready for our departure."
"And Garrett has our bags?" Bella asked.
"Yes, they're in one of the other helos."
"Then we're all set."
Isabella picked up her purse and the photo of her mom and walked out into the hall with Edward. They were met by their security details and began the trip down to the South Lawn. They crossed the lawn, and climbed up into Marine One, which had just touched down. As soon as everyone was secure, they took off, meeting up with five identical birds in the sky. They took different routes for the ninety-minute flight to Lower Manhattan, landing at the Downtown Manhattan Heliport. As they approached, Bella reached for Edward's hand. It was not a day to want to be flying that close to the site of the national tragedy that was also a personal one, but it was necessary.
Agents on the ground met them, and they were quickly loaded into Beast, their luggage secured in the trunk so they could depart. It was a short drive, five minutes in all, before they arrived at the Memorial. More agents were already on site; her motorcade pulled away to park a short distance away. The couple was greeted by an older woman in all black, a sad smile on her face.
"Madam President, let me be the first today to welcome you to the Memorial and Museum. There will be a few volunteer docents here today, but prior to the ceremony you'll be the only visitors in the museum."
"Thank you, Ma'am. I appreciate you accommodating us this morning."
"It is a day for the families here, as you well know. Feel free to walk around and explore the exhibits. If you'd like, we can keep your mother's photo at the information counter."
Bella nodded, set the frame on the empty counter, and led Edward down the ramp that showed large photos of the Towers and the smoke-filled void left behind. The routes of the flights on that fateful day. The historical tale of the Towers, broken into before and after, was difficult for Bella because it brought all those memories back.
Because her life had been split the same way.
She worked her way down to the main floor, past twisted metal, projected missing signs, demolished emergency equipment, and the personal items of those lost that day. Bella moved to "The Last Column" first, and as she always did, she ended where many people stop earlier in their visit, standing in front of "Trying to Remember the Color of the Sky on That September Morning."
Memorial Hall was the hardest part of the museum for Isabella, because this wall, with a blue square for each victim of the attacks, both in 2001 and 1993, was as close to a gravestone as she'd get.
Renee Higginbotham-Swan was among the countless who had never been recovered, but that hadn't prevented Isabella from having closure. She'd gotten that in the moments before the Towers fell. A chaotic call from the background noise, Renee had been singular in her focus.
Go back to the apartment we share with Oakley Mills and her mother Kadie. Don't try to come downtown. Call your father. Never forget that I love you.
Those were the words she heard in her head, even though she'd been able to save the recording off her voicemail on the tiny cell phone she had due to her living in NYC. Charlie and Renee had agreed that Isabella needed a way to call someone if she needed help. It became a different sort of lifeline that day.
And though she'd stayed in New York through the school year, graduating elementary school with Kadie acting as her guardian before she moved home with Charlie, the years had separated them too. In that moment, Bella wondered what happened to Mama K and Oakley, feeling guilty for not keeping in touch once her aspirations had turned political.
"Bells?" A quiet voice asked from the side.
Isabella turned in time to see her agents merge on the supposed threat, but she'd recognize those blue eyes anywhere.
"Oakley?" Bella rushed to her friend, but Garrett stopped her.
"Ma'am—"
"Garrett, every docent in here today should have been checked within an inch of their lives, which should let you know that Oakley Mills and I used to share a bedroom. It's all right."
Edward observed the reunion, grateful that in all the pain and sorrow of the day, something had been given back to her. He watched as the pair sat on a nearby bench and caught up, but the moment Bella turned to wave him over, he happily joined them.
"Oak, this is Edward. Edward, this is Oakley Griffin, formerly Mills. Her mom and mine worked together, but mercifully, she had a morning meeting out of the office that day. We were inseparable in elementary school. A lot has changed since then."
"Nice to meet you, Oakley."
"You too, Edward."
"How's your mom? Is she here?" Bella looked past Oakley for the woman who had been a second mother.
Oakley's eyes dimmed and she looked down at her hands, her ginger hair falling into her face. "No. Mom died of cancer on February 4th, 2025. She saw you take the oath of office, though. She was so proud of you."
"Oak, I'm sorry. I wish I would have known." Bella teared up.
"A lot of time has passed, Bells. I'm not upset that we lost touch. But I never forgot you, or Auntie Re. I named my daughter after her, you know. Jennifer Renee Griffin. She reminds me so much of us as kids. Not the hellraiser her brother is."
"I would love to meet them."
"I'd like that." Oakley looked up at the movement of Garrett, his hand going to his earpiece. "We're probably running out of time, but I have something for you. The agent who checked me when I came in took it and gave it to another agent, but I hope it actually makes it to you. It was my mom's, and I thought you'd like to have it. I also wrote down my contact information if you'd like to call or email. Whatever you can do."
"I'll make sure it gets to her," Edward swore.
"You're good for her. She can relax with you," Oakley told him.
With a final hug, Garrett walked over. "We need to make our way upstairs. The other VIPs are starting to arrive."
"Love you, Oakley," Bella said.
"Love you too, Bells. Always have, always will."
Bella, Edward, and their entourage made their way up to the Memorial, coming face to face with all the politicians there that day. Both former and current mayors, governors, members of Congress for the State of New York were in the VIP area.
Victims' families entered in front of them, and they posed for pictures and spoke at a small distance. Many took a bit more time to speak to Isabella, conveying their own condolences for her loss. It was a slow process as they filed in and found places to sit or stand for the ceremony.
Isabella turned to Edward just before she was meant to speak and he kissed her temple. "I'm right here, Bella. You'll do great."
The members of the NYPD who acted as honor guards during the ceremony approached and Garrett followed behind them.
Isabella set the portrait of her mother on the corner of the podium and, with the three men in formation around her, removed her speech from her pocket.
"Distinguished government officials, members of the FDNY, NYPD, Port Authority Police, volunteers, survivors, and families of the fallen. I come to you this morning, not as the President, but as one of you. A daughter who lost her mother decades too soon. A resident of Lower Manhattan for over a decade of my life, and someone who spent a great deal of time in the shadow of the Twin Towers.
"There is a camaraderie that none of us asked for on that September morning, but we have borne it with grace and determination to see those we lost honored as they deserved. First with the recovery effort, then with the plans for this hallowed ground, and for nearly three decades, with the ceremony that we're about to take part in." Bella took a steadying breath and looked to Edward before she continued.
"As a public figure, I've shied away from actively participating in the ceremony for fear I would draw attention away from the purpose of the day. But I was reminded of just how short life is, and as I embark on a new chapter of my own personal life, I find myself wishing my mom were here to see it. She missed so many milestones, but in a small way, losing her the way I did, the way we all lost our loved ones here, pushed me into public service.
"We've all taken that on in some small part, whether you lobbied for permanent healthcare for those who were impacted by the attack; served in our military; or joined the ranks of the NYPD, FDNY, or the Port Authority. If you worked with those curating the museum; or designing the memorial where we are today; or even in the simple act of keeping the memory of that day alive, you serve the victims of these attacks.
"To us, 'Never Forget' isn't just words, it is our life. Because we cannot forget what we lost that day, or what we found in the days that followed. We are members of a club no one wished to be a part of, but I am proud to be in your company, because together, we have done great things in the face of immeasurable pain. So today, I come here not only to honor Renée Higginbotham-Swan, but also to honor each and every one of you. Thank you."
Bella lifted the photo of her mother and held it in her arms as many family members did that day, facing outward, as though they were cradling the person. She began to walk toward the VIP area and stopped, turning to Garrett with imploring eyes.
With a sigh, he nodded, and raised his wrist to his lips. "Phoenix is going to position three. Escort Mihos to our location."
Bella looked up, having never heard Edward's codename before. She knew he'd decided on one, but it hadn't come up.
Three agents, two of Edward's agents and Phil from her own team, walked with Edward as he joined her among the families waiting for the ceremony to begin.
The woman beside her, who looked to be in her seventies, leaned over slightly. "Your mother would have been proud of the woman you've become. Thank you for joining us today."
Edward wrapped his hand around her waist, just as the drums and bagpipes began to play. Members of the pipe bands from the FDNY, NYPD, and PAPD marched out with a pair of flags, one unfurled and held between the men, the other folded in a wood and glass display case. When the officers reached the stage, the flag was angled so it was visible to the crowd from the stage.
Bella knew without looking at her watch that it was just after 8:40. The ceremony was run with pinpoint accuracy.
A young woman approached the podium as the drums and pipes finished playing. After a beat, she began to sing the National Anthem. The rendition was beautiful in its simplicity. The young singer knew that this moment was about the people gathered, and not an opportunity to show off her creativity. The performance ended and the bell tolled for the first time, marking the first of six moments of silence. 8:46am, the moment American Airlines Flight 11 struck the North Tower.
A moment later, the bands and flags marched out, and two pairs of people stepped up to the podiums on either side of the stage. It was then that the reading of the names began. The pair at the left side of the stage started, alternating as they read, each person with a list of twenty names. The lists were alphabetical, with the exception of the last name each person read, the person or people they were there to honor.
Once the first pair finished, the second pair began, with the next duo being escorted to the stage as the last departed. This reading was paused five times: at 9:03, the moment United Flight 175 struck the South Tower; 9:37, when American Airlines Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon; 9:59, the South Tower's collapse; 10:03, the moment of impact for United 93 in Shanksville, Pennsylvania; and 10:28, the collapse of the North Tower.
Each toll of that bell sent a jolt through Bella. She knew the times, anticipated the sound, but it was still jarring. Such a quiet sound for such devastation. But she knew that no matter how deeply she was affected by the day's events, she needed to project the stoic strength expected of a President.
She looked across to the VIP section, her eyes meeting the kind gaze of a man who knew better than most what it was like to stay calm in the face of the tragedy of the day. The man who was in office the day of the attack. Even though they were from opposite sides of the aisle, he'd offered her kind words when she took her oath as Vice President, and had similarly offered his support when she was forced to ascend into the office after Harry's passing. His grace was something she'd appreciated a great deal since that fateful day. With the tiniest of nods, he sent her another silent message, You've got this.
When the last name was read, several trumpeters around the Memorial Plaza played "Taps." With the final notes, the ceremony ended.
Bella took her time, shaking hands and speaking to the relatives who waited for a turn with her. The agents were vigilant, but respectful of those in attendance, and once the impromptu meet and greet was done, they whisked her away to her waiting vehicle.
Edward wrapped his arm around her and she settled her head onto his shoulder.
"Mihos?" she asked.
"The Egyptian God of War. He's the one with the lion head. I thought I'd keep with the mythological theme you have, but do something a little different. He was a defender of truth and justice, among other things. Besides, the meaning of his name is too perfect not to choose."
Bella looked up at him as she asked, "What does it mean?"
"He who is true beside her."
"I love you," she whispered, barely containing her tears.
"I love you, too."
The twenty-minute trip up the FDR Drive was uneventful, and the team had the President and her fiancé ensconced in the Imperial Suite at the Lotte New York Palace Hotel.
It had been a long day already for the pair, so there was nothing else on the schedule, besides some calls and reading some briefs. Tomorrow would begin their trail of stops in New York, including some time with the Clearwaters and the celebration of Bella's birthday.
For now, she finally got to take off the mask of the President and let her tears flow. Not as a leader, but as a daughter who missed her mom.