That evening, a senior aide entered the office carrying a folder.
“We have another problem.”
The president looked up.
“What now?”
“The medical story.”
He sighed.
“I already know.”
“People are asking why the examination happened when it did.”
“They can ask.”
“They’re also asking whether the first examination was incomplete.”
“Was it?”
“No evidence of that.”
“Then say that.”
“We have.”
“And?”
“They don’t believe us.”
There was a long pause.
The president looked toward the window.
Outside, the lights of Washington stretched into the distance.
“You know what people forget?” he said.
“What?”
“Doctors don’t control the internet.”
The aide smiled faintly.
“No, sir.”
“They think if you give them one answer, they’ll stop asking questions.”
The aide looked down at the folder.
“Do you think they ever will?”
The president considered it.
“No.”
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