Chapter 15: Vitals

Three weeks later I sat at the foot of a long walnut table, in the boardroom of the company where I held thirty percent.

I could not vote. I was allowed to speak, for ten minutes, under the item marked Shareholder Statement.

My lawyer sat at my elbow. Five directors sat along the sides, and the board chair sat at the head in his navy blazer.

Wyatt sat at the chair's right hand, in a charcoal suit, calm and polite.

Carissa sat against the wall behind him with her laptop open, taking the minutes.

She had her hair in a ponytail and a cardigan the color of bubblegum. She had not looked at me once.

"Ms. Haldorsen," the chair said. "You have ten minutes."

I stood and put a thin folder on the walnut.

"I won't take ten," I said. "I only want to read you one line from the court record."

Wyatt's lawyer started to rise. The chair raised a hand, and he sat.

"Entry two hundred and twelve," I said. "Date, February twenty-fifth. Time, one forty-one a.m. Source, N."

Wyatt's face did not change.

"Score, four. Note: mother reports fever of 106.1. Maternal anxiety. Counsel advises keeping the score at four, because a ten helps her case."

I looked down the table at the five faces.

"That's my daughter's temperature. A hundred and six point one. He had the photograph in his hand when he typed it."

"This is a private family dispute," Wyatt said gently. "I'm sorry the board has to hear it."

"You are the chief executive," a director said. "I think we do."

Behind Wyatt a chair scraped.

I looked up. Carissa had put both hands on her stomach and bent forward until her forehead nearly touched the laptop.

"Wyatt," she said, in a thin voice. "Wyatt, it hurts."

He was out of his chair before the sentence ended.

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