Page 161 of Lady and the Hitman

It was like time had rewound and fast-forwarded all at once, skipping over the part where I got to prepare. One minute I was drowning in my own mistakes, and the next I was standing on the edge of a loss so big it swallowed everything else whole.

“I’m following the ambulance now,” Mom rushed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t?—”

“I’m coming,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hung up, the blood pounding in my ears so loud I barely heard my own voice. “It’s my dad. He’s on his way to the hospital. They think it’s his heart.”

Both men stiffened.

Trevor’s face crumpled. “Jesus.”

Ronan was already moving. “Get in the car.”

“I’m going with her,” Trevor said firmly.

“Like hell you are.”

“I’m not letting her go through this alone.”

“You’re not needed.”

“Guys,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “I don’t care. I’m going. You can both come, or neither of you. But I’m not doing this here.”

Ronan looked at me, jaw clenched. “I’m driving.”

Trevor didn’t argue. He just followed us both to Ronan’s car, silent but burning with protective energy that made my head throb.

The drive to MUSC was suffocating. I sat in the front passenger seat, my hands clenched in my lap, my body trembling so hard I could barely keep my teeth from chattering. Ronan gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled control. Trevor sat behind me, silent but present.

We were a triangle of tension. Anger. Grief. Fear.

“Call your mom,” Ronan said, voice low.

I did, hands shaking as I held the phone to my ear.

“We’re almost there,” I told her. “How is he?”

“They’ve got him back in a room. I don’t know anything else yet. They won’t let me back with him. He’s been under so much stress lately. I just worry?—”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stay calm. “Did he say anything before the ambulance picked him up?”

“No. Not really. He tried to, but …” Her voice broke. “He was so pale, Zara.”

“We’re pulling up now.” I hesitated, then added softly, “You’re right. He’s been under so much pressure,Mom. With the nursery. With trying to hold everything together. I should’ve seen this coming.”

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, but her words sounded fragile, like she didn’t believe them either.

The moment we parked, I was out of the car, sprinting toward the entrance like the ground behind me was on fire. Both men followed.

Inside, the emergency department buzzed with fluorescent light and sterile chaos. I spotted my mother immediately, a wilted figure in a beige cardigan, clutching her purse like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth.

“Mom,” I breathed, wrapping her in my arms.

She held on like she was drowning. “They won’t tell me anything yet. He was conscious when they loaded him in the ambulance, but barely. He couldn’t talk.”

I pulled back and cupped her face. “We’re here. I’m here.”

Her eyes flicked to Ronan, then to Trevor behind me.