Sheila Bellowes closed her laptop with a sigh, her gaze drifting momentarily to the television screen on the wall. Another debate on the Douglas Bellowes case. At this point, she was able to recite the arguments of both sides by heart.

She took a sip of her coffee—cold, of course—and stood up. As she crossed the newsroom, she immediately felt the heavy atmosphere. Journalists were whispering, some typing frantically on their keyboards, others stealing glances in her direction.

"What now?" she asked, stopping dead in the middle of the room.

No one dared to answer immediately, until a junior producer, visibly uncomfortable, held out his phone.

"Um... I think you should see this."

Sheila clutched the device and stared at the screen. A new viral tweet was circulating: an old video of Douglas Bellowes from a few years ago, telling another questionable joke live on air, this time about women in politics.

She closed her eyes for a second. Of course someone found it.

She took a deep breath, handed back the phone, and shrugged.

"Very well. You know the drill. We don't comment. We don't react. We let Twitter burn itself out."

She whirled around, ready to return to her office, when an editor dared to call her out.

"Sheila... Are you sure this will hold?"

She turned slowly to him, a cold smile on her lips.

"My dear, I just survived a Newsnight with Kirsty Wark, debates with angry columnists, and my own husband's public fall." If you think a tweet will knock me off my feet, you're underestimating me.

She walked away, grabbing her phone to call her press officer. Another normal day at the BPN.