Jack had been following news of the Johnson Foundation for the past few years, the team working to establish legal protections for short-stringers facing discrimination across numerous fields: job hiring, school admissions, loan applications, health care, adoptions. The list seemed truly boundless. And they had recently launched a new initiative advocating for the right of short-stringers to die on their own terms, pushing for death-with-dignity laws to cover those at the very end of their strings, who would rather pass away peacefully, surrounded by loved ones, than leave their fate up to chance.
When Jack arrived at the Johnson Foundation, an assistant led him upstairs to the office of the newly appointed director of communications, Maura Hill.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Hunter.” Maura leaned casually against the front of her desk, legs crossed at the ankles, while Jack sat down in a leather chair.
“I have to say, I was quite intrigued when I heard that the president’s nephew wanted a meeting,” she said.
Jack gave her a polite nod. “I’m here on behalf of my friend Captain García of the U.S. Army. He was recently killed in action.” Jack took a gulp of water from the glass in front of him, suddenly parched.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Maura said.
Jack cleared his throat and steeled himself. It was the first time that Jack had spoken these next words to a stranger. “The truth is, five years ago we were both second lieutenants in the army, right when the STAR Initiative was announced. My friend Javi had a short string, and I had a long one, but we both knew that he was the one who was meant to be a soldier. To be a hero, really. So we switched our strings, and he was sent overseas in my place.”
Maura’s eyes widened, and she rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. “Holy shit.”
Jack handed her the scanned letter that he had been carrying in a folder. “Javi wrote this, right before he died.”
Jack watched Maura read the letter slowly, taking her time with each line. Her lips parted several times, as if she were about to speak, but she remained silent.
Jack hoped that he had brought the letter to the right place. For the past six months, the foundation had been powerfully backing Anthony’s lead opponent for president, a Pennsylvania senator and vocal short-stringer advocate. Rollins was already bleeding support, especially after last year’s revelation: the scrawled confession found in the cell of his attempted assassin, after she passed away in prison. The world had been wrong, five years ago. She was not driven mad by her string. She had never even opened her box, never seen what was inside. She was instead a grieving sister, still heartbroken after thirty years, angered by the ascendance of one of the men she blamed for the death of her brother. The woman had known, of course, that she couldn’t murder Anthony—she had seen his long string on TV—but she still wanted to punish him somehow. To mete out the justice that had long been withheld. When an innocent man, Hank, got caught in the crossfire, she lost her will to come forward, forever silenced by her guilt.
After the true motive for the shooting was discovered, there were calls for impeachment, of course, but it was impossible to prove that Anthony knew anything more than the public knew. He denied any firsthand involvement in the death of her half brother, and as for his campaign’s defamation of the woman, he had just assumed—like everyone else—that her string was to blame for her actions.
But now, in the most recent poll, the race for Anthony’s reelection looked excruciatingly tight. It might only take one more weight to finally tip the scale.
“Why did you bring this letter here?” Maura asked.
“I want you to leak it to the press,” Jack said. “Including my name, confirming that I was the one who switched strings with Javier. I’m hoping it might be the final piece of ammunition against the Rollins administration, to show people the damage done by his policies, and how stupid it was not to allow someone as brave and dedicated as Javier to openly serve his country. To fulfill his dream. It was Javi’s courage, in his final mission, that allowed his team to rescue those three people. To save their lives.” Jack paused for a moment. “But it’s not just about the army. It’s about every short-stringer whose path has been blocked off, because people are too afraid or prejudiced or ignorant. I’m hoping anyone who reads about Javi will see that short-stringers have just as much value as long-stringers. And they deserve the same opportunities to prove it.”
Of course, Jack knew that reading Javier’s letter wouldn’t change the minds of people like Anthony and Katherine and those who had ushered them into power. It certainly wouldn’t change everything. But maybe it was a start.