“I’ve cleaned rooms in this town since I was sixteen. First at the old Millstone Inn, then the roadside motel when the plant shut down. They say this resort’s gonna bring in ‘high-end clientele.’ That maybe I’ll be making beds for someone famous instead of construction workers with dirty boots. They say there’ll be uniforms and benefits and a wellness package.

My son, Jesse—he’s got asthma. Bad. If this job comes with insurance, I could sleep at night. But I heard a whisper—about something in the water. About kids getting rashes. I don’t know who to believe. But I know what a paycheck means. So if you’re voting, just… think of us, too. The ones who don’t get to sit in rooms like this.”