xxiii. madam president.

"Are you serious?" Marisol asked, pushing through Nevada and to the window, "There's no way-"

Marisol's words stopped in their tracks. Stepping out of the helicopter, flanked by two secret service agents, was the president of the United States, Rosie Richards. Marisol had never seen the president in person, but had seen countless pictures and videos of her. The president looked shorter in person than she did on T.V. She wore a pantsuit. Her long, greying hair was tied into a neat bun near the base of her neck. Even from the second story window, Marisol could tell that not a single hair was out of place.

"What do we do?" Marisol asked, "What if one of the secret service agents has a gun?"

Nevada pulled Marisol away from the window to look out again, "Then my dad will protect us," they said, "there's no way he would open the doors for them to come in, not while we're here..."

Marisol shook her head, "Does it matter? If the President found us here, then I think we're screwed regardless. They found a way to track us."

"Hold on." Nevada said, pressing their face closer to the window, "My dad met with them outside, they're talking."

"Can you tell what they're saying?" Colette asked.

"I can't read lips!" Nevada exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down!" Marisol said, her voice coming out in a strangled mixture of a whisper and a yell.

Nevada, ignoring Marisol, once again spoke loudly. "He's letting them in!"

As if confirming, the front door closed loudly downstairs. Marisol froze in her tracks, like a deer in the headlights. She swallowed, her throat going dry. It was quiet enough to hear the footsteps of several people downstairs. The footsteps slowed to a stop, and then Mr. Schultz' voice rang through the house.

"Kids, come downstairs!"

Marisol let go of her breath. They had been found. She looked over at Colette, who was staring back at her. Colette's hands started to glow as she opened the door and walked out.

Marisol wanted to tell Colette to wait, but she knew they couldn't avoid this forever. She followed Colette down the stairs, Nevada close behind. Every step felt like inching closer to being caught or jumped. Colette's hands still glowed, and Marisol recognized it as the same light from Colette's viral video. The veins in Colette's dark skin glowed.

As soon as she got to the bottom of the stairs, Colette held out her hands, where they flared as a warning. She pointed them straight at the president, who simply smiled.

The president sat on a big chair in the living room, completely relaxed. Meanwhile, the two security guards stood on either side of the chair, facing Colette. Both of their hands were held forward similar to Colette, their hands glowing blue.

The taller of the two agents, a burly woman with tan skin, spoke calmly. "Stop using your magic and put your hands down."

Colette's eyes were wide and her hands shook. Marisol didn't have to know anything about magic to tell that Colette was outmatched. She reached up and grabbed onto Colette's hands, gently lowering them.

Though Colette's hands stopped glowing, nobody moved from where they were standing. A long moment passed before the President broke the silence.

"Talia, Cesar, that's enough," she said.

The two agents behind her put their hands down, the glow fading away from their skin.

"I know you are frightened, Colette" said the president, "But I am not here to hurt you, I am here to make a deal."

Colette didn't respond, opting to stare back.

"Come, sit. I'd like to return your life to normal."

Colette glanced at Marisol and then walked towards the living room. Nevada and Marisol followed. The three of them settled into the couch adjacent to the president. From here, Marisol could get a good look at the most important person in the country.

President Richards, though a physically small woman, filled the room with her presence. The wrinkles on her face didn't make her look frail, but instead accentuated her features, making her seem wiser. A friendly, easygoing smile was on her face, which contracted with the hard set of her eyes that demanded business. She sat straight up, without a hint of a slouch.

Marisol looked at Mr. Schultz who had a hard look on his face. Despite the fact that he was standing with his arms crossed, Marisol could tell that he hadn't let his guard down.

"Madam President," Colette said, "It's an honor to meet you."

"Don't worry about formalities, Colette. My name is Rosie," the older woman said, smiling, "It's an honor to meet you as well, my son is a big fan of your work."

"Thank you," Colette responded awkwardly.

"So, Colette. I'd like to make a deal with you," she said. She paused, as if leaving space for a response, but it was clear that it was just to be polite. Nobody was supposed to talk before she was completely done.

"Magic rights are a big deal right now. There's chaos in Washington D.C. and people are demanding change. I have listened to them, and though Congress is divided over the issue, I would like to lead the charge in decriminalizing magic.

I am planning on issuing an executive order to decriminalize magic, called the Magic Rights act. I would like you to be there for the signing, as well as the following press conference. You wouldn't have to do much, only stand there and make a speech. Agree to do so, and I will pardon you. The scene that you caused in New York will be forgiven, and you will be able to return to your life as normal."

"Why me?" Colette asked.

"You are the face of these protests, nowadays. If you watch the news cover of the protests, you can see many people waving signs with your face on it. The internet is on fire. You are the most searched person in the country. You're even being talked about overseas, especially in your home country."

"I'm a good figurehead." The thought never occurred to Colette, especially because she had stepped away from social media to lay low.

"Precisely," the president said, "You are a leader of a movement and a bridge to creating better relationships with foreign countries. People look up to you and are rooting for you. I've even had contact with the French president over this matter. He agrees that this is a good course of action."

"What if I don't go through with it?"

For the first time since the conversation started, the president stopped smiling. "Then I'd have to turn you in right now," she said, "I may be the president, but meeting you and not allowing for you to be arrested would be against the law."

Marisol frowned, looking at Colette. It seems that there never really was a choice.

"I'll do it," Colette said, "But you have to pardon everybody here as well, or I won't agree. I don't want to be free if the people who kept me safe will be arrested."

A victorious smile painted the president's face. "That can be arranged," she said, standing. "You will need to be ready in 2 hours. We have arranged for a car to bring you to the nearest military base, where there's a private jet. From there, we will depart to the Capitol."

"What about Marisol?" Colette asked.

"Once you give your speech, she will be able to return to New York without any problems."

Colette nodded.

"And Colette," the president said, "I know this is full of publicity stunts, but I would not have come to you if I didn't believe in the cause myself."