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No coverage meant breach of contract on every active job requiring it.

It meant a client could ask for a certificate tomorrow morning and discover I had none. It meant Nair & Co. stopped being a business and became a woman with a laptop making promises she could not support.

“Send the page,” I said.

“I sent it Friday.”

“I did not receive it.”

“It may have gone to spam.”

“My spam is reviewed twice daily.”

Another pause.

“I’ll resend it.”

“Now.”

“Yes.”

I walked toward the stage-management table. The chair remained where I had left it, unoccupied and faintly judgmental.

My phone vibrated with the incoming email.

“I have it,” I said.

The attachment loaded.

Fourteen pages.

I scanned the first. Carrier. Named insured. Effective date. Limits. Retention. Premium.

The premium had increased.

“Why is the rate up eleven percent?”

“Market adjustment.”

“Which market?”

“Events and hospitality.”

“What loss data supports eleven percent?”

“That decision came from underwriting.”

“Then connect me to underwriting.”

“Today is Sunday.”

“So was the expiration date they selected.”

The broker took a breath. “I may be able to request a review tomorrow, but the carrier won’t bind the renewal without the premium shown.”

I looked at the number again.

It was not catastrophic.