The veiled accusation during the break, the urgent conversation with Sophia, it all suggested Richard had found some new ammunition in whatever campaign he was waging. Daniel’s phone rang as he entered the hotel lobby. The screen showed an unfamiliar number with a local area code. Daniel Carter, he answered, his mind still on the day’s events. Dr.

Carter, this is Margaret from child services at the Mandarin Oriental. There’s been an incident with Emma. His heart stopped. What happened? Is she hurt? No, no, she’s physically fine, the woman assured him quickly. But there was an altercation with another child in the program. Emma became quite upset. She’s with us now in the manager’s office.

Daniel raced to the indicated location, finding Emma sitting stiffly in an oversized chair, her face tear streaked, but composed. A hotel manager and a woman with a staff badge hovered nearby, their expressions carefully professional. Daddy. Emma ran to him, bearing her face against his suit jacket. “What happened, sweetheart?” he asked, kneeling to her level.

The staff member, Margaret, presumably stepped forward. “There was a disagreement during an art activity. Another child made some comments about Emma’s drawing of her mother, and Emma, reacted strongly. “He said I was lying,” Emma whispered, her voice muffled against Daniel’s shoulder. He said, “I made it up that mommy was in heaven watching me.

” He said, “I just wanted attention.” Anger flared hot and immediate. “And the other child,” Daniel asked, struggling to keep his voice even, “has been removed from the program for the day,” the manager assured him. His parents have been notified. “But hotel policy requires us to document any physical altercation, even among children.

” “Physical?” Daniel looked at Emma in surprise. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. I pushed him and I might have thrown paint a little. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Daniel had to suppress a smile. Sarah’s temper had been legendary in academic circles. Brilliant, composed, and utterly formidable when provoked.

I understand your policy, he told the manager, but surely you can appreciate the circumstances. Emma lost her mother two years ago. This is a sensitive subject. The manager nodded sympathetically. Of course, we’re not suggesting any further action is needed. We simply wanted to inform you directly. After completing the necessary paperwork and offering appropriate apologies, Daniel took Emma back to their suite.

She was subdued, clearly embarrassed by her outburst. “Am I in trouble?” she asked in a small voice as they entered the room. Daniel sat beside her on the sofa. “No, sweetheart. I’m not happy that you pushed someone, but I understand why you were upset.” That boy said something very hurtful. “I tried to use my words first, like you taught me,” Emma insisted, but he wouldn’t stop.

“He said,”Only babies believe in heaven.” Daniel pulled her close. “Everyone has different beliefs about what happens after we die. Some people believe in heaven, some don’t. But what matters is that we respect each other’s feelings.” “I know,” Emma sniffled. I just miss mommy sometimes, especially when I’m doing art because she always liked my drawings.

She would love the ones you’re doing now, Daniel assured her. Especially the Boston skyline. That was beautiful. Emma nodded, wiping her eyes. Can I stay with you tonight? I don’t want to go back to the kids program. Of course, I have a dinner with the German executives, but it shouldn’t run late. We can order room service, watch a movie when I get back.

He helped Emma settle with her sketchbook in a room service milkshake, then changed quickly for dinner. The incident had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Emma had been doing so well lately that he sometimes forgot how fragile her emotional equilibrium could be, how deeply the loss of her mother had affected her. As he straightened his tie, his phone rang again. This time it was Sophia.

Daniel, I’m afraid I need to cancel our dinner with the Schneider team, she said, her voice tight with tension. Something’s come up. Is everything all right? There was a pause. I’m not sure. Richard has brought some concerns to my attention about you. The cold weight in his stomach returned heavier now. What kind of concerns? I’d rather discuss this in person.

Can you meet me in the hotel bar in 20 minutes? Of course, Daniel agreed, though unease prickled along his spine. Emma had a difficult day, but she’s settled now. “Bring her if you need to,” Sophia said. “This won’t take long.” The hotel bar was dimly lit and half empty. Business travelers nursing drinks after long days of meetings.

Sophia sat alone at a corner table, a glass of untouched wine before her. Her expression as Daniel approached was troubled, conflicted in a way he hadn’t seen before. What’s happened?” he asked without preamble, sliding into the seat across from her. Sophia pushed a folder across the table. Richard received this yesterday.

He claims it came from an anonymous source, but I have my doubts. Daniel opened the folder with trepidation. Inside were printouts of emails, his emails from his university account during Sarah’s illness, correspondents with department heads, with medical insurance representatives, with colleagues asking for extensions on research deadlines, private painful exchanges documenting the collapse of his academic career as he struggled to balance teaching responsibilities with his wife’s deteriorating condition.

I don’t understand, he said, looking up in confusion. Where did these come from? Why would Richard have them? He says they raise concerns about your reliability, Sophia replied, though her tone suggested she found the explanation dubious. That they show a pattern of professional difficulties that might affect your work with us.

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