He skidded to a stop at the emergency entrance, lifted Emily into his arms again, and ran inside, nearly stumbling over the curb. His voice cracked as he shouted for help. Two nurses hurried over with a gurney, and he gently laid her down.
They fired questions at him—had she fallen, was she sick, on medication, had she had seizures or vomited? Jonathan could barely answer. Breathless, he said, “I found her unconscious on my floor. She was cold and wouldn’t wake up. That’s all I know.”
The nurses exchanged a tense look before wheeling her through frosted glass doors.
Jonathan remained in the hallway as the twins clung to his legs, one on each side. He knelt down and wrapped his arms around them, feeling their fear seep into him. Their small bodies trembled against his.
“She’ll be okay,” he said softly, unsure whether he was comforting them or lying to himself.
They calmed slightly but refused to let go, as if afraid he might disappear too. He glanced at his watch—it was already past seven in the evening. He hadn’t notified anyone: not his office, not his assistant, not his partners.
He pulled out his phone and called Margaret. She answered immediately. His voice was tight as he explained what had happened. There was a long pause on the line, heavy and uncomfortable, before she spoke, her voice shaking with guilt.
“Mr. Parker… there’s something I should have told you earlier.”
His jaw tightened. “What is it, Margaret?”
She took a deep breath. Emily hadn’t been feeling well for days. She had fainted twice in the house—once in the laundry room, once in the kitchen. Margaret had urged her to see a doctor, but Emily said she couldn’t afford it, that it was just exhaustion and she’d recover.
Margaret had given her some blood pressure medication, but it didn’t seem to help.
Jonathan closed his eyes, guilt crashing over him as the weight of her words sank in.
