Seven Minutes at a Time
Chapter 10 - Seven Minutes at a Time
Ethan read the email on Emma’s phone.
Then he looked at his own device.
His account showed no record of sending it.
“It’s the family server again,” he said.
Emma’s voice was flat.
“Then stop using it.”
He called the company’s technology director and ordered every forwarding rule disabled.
The director refused.
“Mrs. Mercer instructed us not to alter executive security protocols without board authorization.”
“I am the chief executive.”
“Your mother is chairwoman.”
Ethan looked toward me.
For the first time, he seemed to understand that his title had always been conditional. Margaret had allowed him to lead as long as he made the choices she preferred.
He ended the call and removed the company email account from his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Making myself reachable.”
He created a new personal address.
Then he wrote it on a hospital napkin and handed it to Emma.
“No assistants. No family office. No one between us.”
Emma folded the napkin.
“You could still ignore me.”
“Yes.”
“So why should I trust this?”
“You shouldn’t yet.”
That answer earned him another minute beside her bed.
Ethan spent the next two days doing work he once would have assigned to other people.
He called lenders personally.
He met with department heads in the hospital cafeteria.
He arranged a temporary financing agreement that did not depend on the Whitmore merger.
He asked hotel managers how many employees would actually be at risk if the deal failed.
The answer was fewer than Vanessa had claimed.
She had exaggerated the danger because she knew Ethan responded to rescue narratives.
By Friday, he could cancel the merger without closing the hotels.
It would cost the company expansion plans, bonuses and several executive positions.
It would not cost housekeepers their jobs.
When Ethan told Vanessa, she became quiet.
“You’ve chosen,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You will regret humiliating me.”
“I already regret letting you humiliate my daughter.”
He ended the call.
That afternoon, the Mercer Hospitality board removed him as acting chief executive pending a “fitness review.”
Margaret voted with the majority.
Ethan read the announcement beside Emma’s bed.
She looked at him over the top of her book.
“Are you angry?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to leave and fix it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because someone should have stayed before.”
Emma lowered the book.
“You don’t have to sit there all day.”
“I know.”
“You’re breathing loudly.”
“I’ll work on it.”
She almost smiled.
That evening, she let him stay twenty minutes.
He helped her with algebra and made three mistakes.
“You own hotels,” Emma said. “How are you this bad at fractions?”
“Hotels have accountants.”
“Mom is better.”
“Your mother is better at most things.”
I pretended not to hear.
On Saturday, Rosa visited with news.
The hotel’s security director had been fired.
The assistant manager who delayed calling the ambulance had resigned.
Several employees wanted to give statements, but they feared losing their jobs.
Rosa handed Ethan a small digital recorder.
“What is this?” he asked.
“I carry it during disciplinary meetings. People lie less when they know there may be a record.”
She had recorded part of the conversation in the service corridor after Emma collapsed.
Vanessa’s voice was clear.
Get the girl out of sight. The board cannot see another Mercer mistake.
Then a second voice answered.
Older. Colder.
Margaret.
You should have handled Claire years ago. I told you leaving the child reachable would become a problem.
Ethan listened without moving.
Emma stared at her grandmother’s empty chair.
Then the recording continued.
May you like
Vanessa laughed softly.
After the wedding, Ethan will sign the revised trust. Claire and the girl will never reach him again.
