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BY LUNCHTIME HASTINGS has convened eight members of the Ridgemont board in an emergency meeting.

The school’s lawyer, George Forbes, is also there, pink in the face from an early-morning tennis game.

Fiona orders sandwiches from the local deli, which sit untouched in the middle of the conference table.

After thanking everyone for being available on such short notice, Hastings presents the issue to the Ridgemont brain trust. “I wish we were here under happier circumstances,” he says.

“But as some of you may be aware, we have a student making public threats of self-harm. Her name is Emma Blake, she’s a junior, and she wants to bring attention to the world’s problems by burning herself alive. ”

Monica Zoller, founder of a multimillion-dollar real estate firm, audibly gasps. So does Robert Bass III, scion of a sports equipment empire.

Hastings swallows nervously. “She’s made a video, which she posted on YouTube, in which she states her intention to set herself on fire.” He swallows again. “Here on the Ridgemont campus.”

The room erupts in noise, and Hastings lifts his hand to quiet the board.

“We had the video taken down, but it has been reposted countless times. Students at schools like ours, in particular, are taking notice. A climate march at Boyden descended into vandalism of the student union. At Kingsley there’s a student who’s on a hunger strike. ”

“But no one else is saying they’re going to burn themselves alive,” George says quickly. “Activism is one thing. Threatening suicide is another.”

Bryce Knode, a Harvard engineer, speaks up from a Zoom screen. “How seriously do you take this young woman’s threat?”

“Very,” says Hastings. “Emma’s father, on the other hand, insists that she’s fine.”

I know my daughter much better than you do, he said. If I believed Emma was actually in danger, I’d be there by lunchtime. Well, Byron Blake did come to Ridgemont—and then he left again, an hour later, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Does Emma have a history of mental illness?” Monica wants to know.

“No, according to her father,” Hastings says. “But her sister did. She committed suicide in December. And Emma’s mother died of cancer right before she enrolled at Ridgemont.”

His words fall like stones in the room.

Clarabelle Porter, Ridgemont ’72, lifts her sagging, aristocratic chin. “That poor, remarkable girl,” she says, fingering the pearls at her neck. “I can only imagine the pain she must be feeling right now.”

“It’s terrible, I agree. We need to help her, but what is the best course of action?

” Hastings says. “I need your counsel. I think she should be removed from campus immediately, and taken someplace where she can be under constant surveillance. But her father, who is a major donor, has threatened a lawsuit. He says that Emma is merely exercising her right to free speech.” He loosens his tie.

The room is unbearably hot. “And Emma would argue that she’s exercising her right to social protest.”

“It doesn’t sound like social protest,” Monica says. “It sounds like depression and suicidal ideation.”

“We aren’t qualified to diagnose her,” Hastings says.

“The question is what to do with her. We’ve suspended students for dangerous behaviors before.

We’ve sent students in crisis to the psychiatric hospital.

And we’ve put other students on leaves of absence when we felt that was the best course of action.

” He removes his jacket. There’s no relief.

“But in every instance prior, we had the assistance and the support of the student’s parents.

In this case, we have a father who very clearly states that his daughter must stay in school, or he’ll sue. ”

The ticking of the grandfather clock drills into Hastings’s ears as he waits for someone to say something.

“Ridgemont isn’t equipped to handle this particular situation,” George Forbes says. “Nor should we be asked to, for moral, ethical, and legal reasons.”

“And we have to remember, this is about more than just one troubled student,” says Ed Jensen, a hedge fund manager, from his little Zoom box. “This is about the safety of everyone here.”

“But a lawsuit?” says Dominic Chadwick shyly. He’s barely out of Cornell, the youngest member of the board, and Hastings has always found him timid and dull. “I assume we don’t want that?”

“We also don’t want a girl burning herself to death,” says Monica flatly.

“What if her dad’s right, though?” Dominic goes on. “What if he knows her best?”

Hastings sighs. “I think that parents sometimes believe what they want to believe. Byron Blake in particular is very accustomed to being right. And maybe he is. But I’m not sure that’s a risk we should take.”

“I’ll be frank. I can’t imagine her doing it,” says Robert Bass III.

“But it’s better to be safe than sorry,” George says.

Hastings looks around the room. He understands that no one wants to believe Emma’s threats are real. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t.

And while no one will say it out loud, they want to protect Ridgemont’s reputation in addition to protecting Emma Blake’s life.

“I believe she needs to be hospitalized immediately,” Hastings says. “Are we in agreement?”

“I’ll drive her myself,” Monica says.

“No,” George says. “We’ll call an ambulance.”

Hastings looks at all of them in turn. They’re nodding. Some are frowning; a few are looking offscreen, multitasking while discussing a teenage girl’s looming self-immolation. But he has a consensus, and he’s going to run with it.

“Fiona,” he barks. “Call NH Hospital.”