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My stomach tightens. “What happens when the policy expires tonight?”

“From one minute past midnight, the Hartwell won’t have property or general liability insurance.”

I sit forward. “We have guests in seventy-three rooms. What am I supposed to do with them?”

“We strongly advise our clients not to operate without liability coverage.”

“So you’re telling me to close the Hartwell?”

“I can’t make that decision for you. But if we can’t arrange a new policy today, the safest choice may be to close and move your guests to other hotels.”

I hang up and start calling other brokers. One tells me a building this old will need a new valuation and a full inspection, which could take weeks. Another offers to send me an application by next Thursday.

When none of them can help, I call our lawyer. His assistant tells me he’s in court and won’t be available until late this afternoon.

“This can’t wait. I may have to empty a hotel before midnight.”

“I’ll mark it as urgent and ask him to call as soon as he’s free.”

“How soon will that be?”

“I can’t promise a time.”

I hang up.

I scroll to Grandma’s name. She would answer, book the first flight home, and spend the whole trip blaming herself for leaving me alone. Even if she left now, she wouldn’t arrive before the policy expired. She can’t fix this from a plane, and calling her would only leave me worrying about her too.

I scroll past her name. This is mine to handle. I may not know how to fix it, but I know someone who might.

I stare at Eric’s name for several seconds before pressing call. He answers on the second ring, with voices carrying in the background.

“Of course you call now,” he says. “I’ve spent two days trying to reach you, and you choose the middle of a board meeting.”

“You’re in a board meeting?”

A door closes, cutting off the voices around him.

“Not anymore.”

Eric is the last person I want to admit this to. He’s also the only person I know who might know how to fix it.

“I need you.”

There’s a short pause. “I knew you’d get there eventually,” he says playfully.

“I mean I need your help.”

The amusement leaves his voice. “What happened?”

“Something’s wrong and I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me.”

I explain the failed renewal and that I may have to close the Hartwell. Eric listens without interrupting.

“Send me the email, your current policy, your latest property valuation, and your claims history. Do it now.”

“What are you going to do?”