Chapter 9: Thursday
The board meeting ran long.
I was not in the room. I received the summary from the independent director out of courtesy and from counsel out of mandate. Cost cuts. A search for replacement capital. A formal note that related-party support from the Whitaker Foundation and from me personally would not be assumed in forward projections. Daniel retained his title through the quarter with reduced authority on financing. It was not a firing. It was a narrowing of the corridor he could walk without hitting walls.
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He drove to the cabin without an invitation and stopped at the foot of the dock when he saw me on the steps. We spoke across ten feet of evening air. He said the firm would survive. I said I hoped so. He said the gala had ruined him. I said the gala had revealed him. The distinction hung between us until he left without climbing the steps.
Inside, I made tea and reviewed the foundation’s next grant cycle. Scholarships did not pause for marital weather. Neither did I.
