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“And it may be entirely false. Remember that these are only rumors. Entirely unconfirmed. Senate gossip is rarely accurate, but if this is true … we must be prepared, Anakin. I still have friends enough in the Senate to catch the scent of whatever this disloyal cabal is cooking up. And I have a very good idea of who the leaders are; in fact, my final meeting this afternoon is with a delegation representing the cabal. I would like you to be present for that as well.”

“Me?” Couldn’t everyone leave him alone for day? For even a few hours? “What for?”

“Your Jedi senses, Anakin. Your ability to read evil intent. I have no doubt these Senators will put some virtuous façade on their plotting; with your help, we will pierce that veil and discover the truth.”

Anakin sighed, rubbing his stinging eyes. How could he let Palaptine down? “I’m willing to try, sir.”

“We won’t try, Anakin. We will do. After all, they are only Senators. Most of them couldn’t hide what they’re thinking from a brain-damaged blindworm, let alone the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy.”

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers pensively. “The Jedi Council, however, is another matter entirely. A secret society of antidemocratic beings who wield tremendous power, individually as well as collectively—how am I to trace the labyrinth of their plots? That’s why I put you on the Council. If these rumors are true, you may be democracy’s last hope.”

Anakin let his chin sink once more to his chest, and his eyelids scraped shut. It seemed like he was always somebody’s last hope.

Why did everyone always have to make their problems into his problems? Why couldn’t people just let him be?

How was he supposed to deal with all this when Padmé could die?

He said slowly, eyes still closed, “You still haven’t told me what this has to do with Obi-Wan.”

“Ah, that—well, that is the difficult part. The disturbing part. It seems that Master Kenobi has been in contact with a certain Senator who is known to be among the leaders of this cabal. Apparently, very close contact. The rumor is that he was seen leaving this Senator’s residence this very morning, at an … unseemly hour.”

“Who?” Anakin opened his eyes and sat forward. “Who is this Senator? Let’s go question him.”

“I’m sorry, Anakin. But the Senator in question is, in fact, a her. A woman you know quite well, in fact.”

“You—” He wasn’t hearing this. He couldn’t be. “You mean—”

Anakin choked on her name.

Palpatine gave him a look of melancholy sympathy. “I’m afraid so.”

Anakin coughed his voice back to life. “That’s impossible! I would know—she doesn’t … she couldn’t—”

“Sometimes the closest,” Palpatine said sadly, “are those who cannot see.”

Anakin sat back, stunned. He felt like he’d been punched in the chest by a Gamorrean. By a rancor. His ears rang, and the room whirled around him.

“I would know,” he repeated numbly. “I would know …”

“Don’t take it too hard,” Palpatine said. “It may be only idle gossip. All this may be only a figment of my overheated imagination; after all these years of war, I find myself inspecting every shadow that might hide an enemy. That is what I need from you, Anakin: I need you to find the truth. To set my mind at rest.”

A distant smolder kindled under Anakin’s breastbone, so faint as to be barely there at all, but even a hint of that fire gave Anakin the strength to throw himself to his feet.

“I can do that,” he said.

The flame grew stronger now. Hotter. The numb fatigue that had dragged at his limbs began to burn away.

“Good, Anakin. I knew I could count on you.”

“Always, sir. Always.”

He turned to go. He would go to her. He would see her. He would get the truth. He would do it now. Right now. In the middle of the day. It didn’t matter who might see him.

This was business.

“I know who my friends are,” he said, and left.

He moved through Padmé’s apartment like a shadow, like a ghost at a banquet. He touched nothing. He looked at everything.

He felt as if he’d never seen it before.

How could she do this to him?

Sometimes the closest are those