Free Dirty Work by Chelle Bliss, Brenda Rothert

even if I wasn’t strong enough to continue on with my life.
    As I write this, there are rumors about you running for Senate. Even though I won’t be there to cheer you on—just know that I’m by your side. Fight to represent every vet who doesn’t have a voice. Make all of our sacrifices worth something. Make sure this doesn’t happen to a new generation of men.
    Make us whole and give us a reason to fight that’s worthy of the cost of a human life.
    Your brother always,
    Kurt
    My eyes are filled with tears by the time I’m finished. There’s no one to send a reply to. No one to understand the loss I feel in this moment. Kurt’s gone. After everything we went through together, after all the moments of panic and fight, he’s gone. Just like that.
    Regret overcomes me. Never have I felt so entirely hopeless in my life. Even in battle, I always had a plan and tried to stay two steps ahead of the enemy. I can’t do anything to save Kurt.
    The only thing I can do is fight to win the election and make sure no other vet feels helpless and haunted enough to take their own life.
    I glance down when my phone beeps and see that Reagan has sent me a text. My eyes are too blurry to make out the words. I don’t read it—my heart’s not in the mood for toying with her today.
    “Ready to hit the road?” Carl asks, knocking on the door.
    “Let’s hit it,” I reply and fold up Kurt’s note and shove it in my bag next to the bed.
    His words are only for me. They’ll give me strength and remind me why I’m running.
    In a country so dedicated to freedom, there should be more support and care given to the very men and women who defend that honor every day.
    No one will make sure it happens unless I’m there to put the ball in motion. It’s going to be my platform. No one can look me in the eye and say I don’t understand what veterans are going through.

Chapter 10
    I can’t stop smiling . There’s something about being at the fair on a sunny summer afternoon in jeans and flip-flops that makes me really happy. It reminds me of my mom taking my sister and me to the state fair when we were little.
    “You’ve got powdered sugar on your nose,” Lexi tells me. “And your chin.”
    “There’s no shame in my funnel cake-eating game,” I say. “This thing’s amazing.”
    “You sure you want a lemonade shakeup, too?”
    “Completely sure.” I rub my fingertips over my nose and chin, brushing off the powdered sugar.
    I’m campaigning at a downstate county fair, and Lexi and I are on a break from shaking hands in the county Democratic Party’s tent. I gave everyone else on staff the day off. I’ve been feeling under pressure, and they’ve been doubling down on campaign efforts to help.
    I’m still leading in the polls, but I’m taking nothing for granted. With several months until the election, anything could happen.
    Lex and I both get a lemonade shakeup, and we walk over to the carnival rides. My excitement level is childlike because I didn’t go to many carnivals as a kid. Since we lived in Chicago, there weren’t many to be found.
    “Look at that,” I say to Lexi in a breathy tone.
    It’s a huge slide with a wave design. People walk up a bazillion stairs and then slide down on what looks like burlap sacks. I don’t even ask Lexi, I just grab her hand and take off for the stairs.
    “Really?” she says skeptically as she sips the last of her shakeup.
    “Really.”
    She stops. “I think I should stay at the bottom and take your picture. We might be able to use it in campaign materials.”
    I laugh heartily. “Or not. I take so much heat for being young, the last thing we need is a picture of me on a slide at the carnival. Titan would have a field day with that.”
    “That’s true.” Lexi groans. “Okay, so we’re going on the giant slide.”
    “Damn right!” I take her shakeup and drop both of our cups in the trash can on our way to get in line.
    I laugh the entire way down the slide, my hair