The torch America carries is one of decency and hope. It is not

Host: The evening descended over the city like a slow, solemn curtain. The sky was heavy with clouds, the kind that turned streetlights into floating halos. From the rooftop terrace of a government building, the view stretched wide — the Capitol dome glowing in the distance, the faint echo of sirens dissolving into the hum of wind.

Host: Jack stood near the railing, his coat collar turned up against the chill, an American flag fluttering weakly behind him. Beside him, Jeeny leaned against a stone column, her arms crossed, her face half-lit by the warm glow of a security lamp. The air smelled faintly of rain and ambition — the two most stubborn things in Washington.

Jeeny: “You ever think about what patriotism really means, Jack?”

Jack: “Too often. It’s a word that’s been beaten up, branded, and sold a thousand different ways.”

Jeeny: “Mitt Romney once said, ‘The torch America carries is one of decency and hope. It is not America’s torch alone. But it is America’s duty — and honor — to hold it high enough that all the world can see its light.’”

Jack: “Yeah, I remember that