I'd only started three days ago and hadn't thought to check his archived messages, but that didn't stop guilt or shame from rising.
My hopes of doing an excellent job in this position and rising through the ranks to become head of HR were looking slimmer all the time.
Every tiny mistake I made like this was a black mark on my reputation.
"I didn't receive that email," he said evenly.
"We sent it to your hospital address," the coordinator insisted, "and followed up twice."
"I didn't see it." His voice remained calm, but I heard the edge beneath it.
Still, he didn't even bother looking at me.
If he had, he would only have seen me with a hanging head and drooping shoulders. "What do you need from me?"
"Well, we need you to select a new one. The ceremony starts in ten minutes, and we can't really go on without a Hearthkeeper. It's tradition—the Lightkeeper and Hearthkeeper represent the balance of public and private, leadership and family. You gotta pick someone."
Dr. Bradley stood there for a second without moving.
I could tell by the expression on his face that he was thinking before his eyes started skimming over faces in the backstage area.
I had no clue what a Hearthkeeper was, but this Veronica lady was supposed to be it.
And I didn't know what diagnosis she'd gotten, but it didn't sound good if she'd give up an honor like this.
But I was genuinely shocked when his eyes landed on me.
My stomach plummeted.
"Her," he said, pointing directly at me. I couldn't begin to tell you the dread that washed over me in a split second.
The coordinator blinked then scrunched her face up in confusion and a hint of revulsion. "Your assistant?"
"Ember Harrison," he said. "I choose her as my Hearthkeeper."
He took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and started to put his suit jacket on, leaving his sleeves still rolled up.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
I had to have looked like a fish with my jaw flapping like that.
The coordinator was already writing on her clipboard, but her face was still contorted.
"Wonderful!" she said with less enthusiasm than before. "We'll get her costume immediately. Ember, come with me."
She grabbed my arm and hauled me toward a corner where racks of clothing stood waiting.
This wasn’t happening.
My heart felt like it was going to explode.
I had absolutely no desire to be on that stage at all—especially if there were cameras.
I finally found my voice and hissed over my shoulder at Dr. Bradley, "I can't do this."
He followed behind us with a calm expression like this was any other day and I was just being asked to do my job.
"It's a formality, Ms. Harrison. Stand on stage, smile, and it's done."
