His call earlier regarding an urgent need to meet with me had been the least of my concern when I ditched the board and rushed out of the hospital to make sure Ember was alright.
Now I paced the hallway waiting for them to invite me in to what would surely be a caning or worse.
The past several months, it seemed like I'd been defending myself in this battle of traditional family values versus the ever-changing landscape of culture as a whole.
Embroiled in this battle, Ember and I had dug our heels in and fought against what people said was inappropriate.
I knew in my heart that had she been closer to my age, this would've been a celebration that the first-ever single Lightkeeper was finding true love in his Hearthkeeper's arms.
Yet something as petty as Ember's age had cause such a stir that people in this town demonized us.
I wasn't about to bow down and let them see me whimpering.
They were wrong.
Love is love and Ember and I were both consenting adults, openly and equally walking into this relationship with our eyes wide open.
And if I had to make a point about it, I'd have said that Ember was braver than any soul I'd met.
She knew how evil people could twist things, how volatile her past could be, but she stood for the tradition and women all over this community in spite of the risk.
If that wasn't the very definition of what sharing the warmth of a Hearthkeeper's role was about, I didn’t know what to think.
"Nathan, please come in," Mr. Reed said, opening the door.
I followed him in with my shoulders squared, ready to take on an angry mob for Ember's sake, but they were all seated calmly.
And they were dressed casually too, in sweaters and jeans, sipping coffee and eating donuts like they weren't ready to put me in front of the firing squad, which I knew well and good they were.
"Nathan," Reed continued as he took what was apparently his seat, leaving me to stand, "the committee has come to a unanimous agreement." He pursed his lips and scowled up at me, and I braced myself for his hateful words.
"We don't want to punish you. You've been an upstanding leader in our community. But having Ms. Harrison—or should we say, Ms. Hensley" —he lifted both eyebrows in disdain and continued— "represent the women of our community, it's just not going to work out anymore."
I was seething, biting back my words because I knew they were only going to come out in anger.
Ember had done nothing wrong at all.
She'd been the victim of someone else's cruelty more than once, and this was just another attempt to destroy her reputation and future.
"Respectfully—" I started, but Tina Walsh cut me off.
"Dr. Bradley, I think you aren't sure what the meaning of the word respect even is anymore." She scowled deeply, and I hardly recognized her.
It was like these people wore masks, and today of all days, they chose to take them off, revealing the muzzles and fangs beneath them the whole time.
"Respectfully," I started again, glaring at her, then Tom Reed, "I think you are wrong. Ember Harrison was a victim of a senselessand downright vile smear campaign in her college years." My heart hammered against my ribs, willing me to lash out and scream.
But I maintained control because these people needed to be put in their places. Ember didn't deserve any of this.
"Ms. Harrison survived that vicious attack that went public and made something new of herself in spite of it. And now because of your inability to see her as a competent adult, because of you all devaluing her maturity and abilities, she is being cornered like a frightened animal yet again. You should all be ashamed of yourselves."
Reed squirmed uncomfortably and tugged at the collar of his sweater while one of the other committee members clicked his tongue.
I didn't even know his name, yet he had the gall to speak as if we were friends.
"Nate, come on, buddy. All we're asking is that you ask her to step down." His hands steepled in front of himself as he leaned forward with a smug expression and pie all over his ugly face like he'd rolled in it.
"Think of the little girls watching. What will they think? And what about the young men who are watching you? Those young women they could?—"
