Page 44 of Emma on Fire

I met Emma in her dorm room as campus police searched her drawers for items she might be able to use for self-harm. Her dark eyes had a haunted quality, the unmistakable mark of sleepless nights and a heart burdened by more than it should ever have to bear.

Emma politely but firmly declined to discuss her plans on the record. A far cry from the impassioned, defiant girl in her videos, in person she was guarded and cautious, her words carefully chosen and few in number. Her reluctance to speak left me wondering about the girl behind the viral sensation. Who is she, really, when the camera isn’t rolling?

The Internet is divided about Emma, her self-proclaimed sacrifice sparking both admiration and apprehension. There’s no question her video has shaken up the digital world, but what is it that’s driving her?

Is she a martyr for a generation that has come of age in a world fraught with conflict and dread—a beacon of radical activism willing to sacrifice herself for change?

Or—and this strikes me as more likely—is she a troubled young girl, a teen grappling with deep-seated depression like so many of our young people, her pain hijacked and amplified by the megaphone of social media?

And who are we, as a nation and a world, that our children make declarations such as hers?

CHAPTER 31

“I JUST LEFT her. She’s fine,” Byron says brusquely.

Hastings presses his lips into a thin line.Fineis hardly the word he’d use for Emma. What was it she said in that awful video?We’re at the brink of total disaster. Everything is going wrong.He can’t exactly argue that she’s wrong, at this point. “Have you read theBoston Globearticle? We can’t let—”

“That woman will be out of a job by EOD,” Byron says. “So just listen to me. You can’t lock up my daughter. It’s technically kidnapping. And you can’t keep her phone and laptop away from her either. She’s protesting, and you’re interfering with her freedom of speech.”

Hastings grits his teeth. “I understand your argument,” he says, not mentioning that the man has just threatenedRachel Daley’s job, essentially taking away her freedom of speech. But he’s dealt with the überrich his whole life—he knows the rules apply only where they want them to. He picks up his coffee cup and then sets it back down again, debating his words. “But this isn’t about Emma’s constitutional rights; it’s about her welfare.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m not concerned about her welfare? What Emma needs right now is stability. Consistency. Removing her from school, from her friends, is going to take away one of the few things my daughter has left.”

And his daughter is the only thing he has left. Could that be a touch of vulnerability in Byron’s voice? But it doesn’t even matter. The man refuses to believe that his daughter is a danger to herself.

“We’re in uncharted territory, Mr. Blake, and I can’t let Ridgemont be the setting for a tragedy.”

“It won’t be,” Byron says. “Jesus Christ, are you not around enough teenage girls to understand how they act? She’s being dramatic, sure. But I know my daughter better than you ever will, and I would never let anything bad happen to her. So you need to—”

But Hastings has had just about enough. Byron might as well have tossed out the wordhysteria,the way he’s dismissing teenage girls—half of the student population whose well-being Hastings is responsible for. “Sorry, what?” he says. “Mr. Blake? You’re cutting out!”

This time it’s the headmaster who hangs up on the lawyer. Peregrine Hastings feels adrenaline rushing through his veins.

I can’t believe I just did that.

It feels so good, he wishes he could go back in time and do it again. Actually, if he could go back in time, there are a lot of things he would change, starting with paying attention to Emma’s mental state when she came to Ridgemont after her mother died, and monitoring her more closely when Claire committed suicide.

But since he can’t go back in time, Hastings has to figure out what to do next.

Tick tick tickgoes the big black grandfather clock that once belonged to Edgar Ridgemont. It’s the day before the fire—that’s what Emma said. Time is running out.

CHAPTER 32

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 realestate 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.”

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