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“It’s not every mother who gets to say her daughter is a campaign manager for a future senator. I’m proud of you, Beverly. Even if no man ever will be.”
It was a complicated concept, but I could see how the way it was going wasn’t benefiting people the way the Founders intended. Or maybe it was—they certainly wouldn’t have wanted me voting. And Helen’s mere existence had to have them rolling in their graves.
“You’re my daughter,” she said. “I’m allowed to be angry on your behalf.”
Because she deserved to be the person she wanted to be, not just who the world expected her to be.
That was at least one little girl who would grow up knowing mommies could slay dragons too.