After nearly dropping the phone in her haste, Sam found Tracy’s number and willed her sister to answer the phone. “Trace! I need you to come over here. Hurry. Nick and Scotty are sick, and I have to take Nick to GW—”

“What? Okay, I’m coming. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You have to stay with Scotty.” Her voice broke and tears flooded her eyes. “I can’t wake him up, Trace. Nick. He won’t wake up.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Sam went to Nick and shook him again, looking for something, anything. “Please,” she whispered. “Wake up.”

But like before, he didn’t move.

She laid her hand on his chest where the strong beat of his heart was the best thing she’d ever felt. Then she noted the rise and fall of his breathing. Those were good signs, weren’t they?

It seemed to take hours for the paramedics to arrive when it was probably only minutes. Everything moved very quickly. They had him on an IV and strapped to a gurney in a matter of seconds and were whisking him out of the house, escorted by the Secret Service.

Sam was torn in two very distinct directions—go with Nick or stay with Scotty until Tracy arrived. She looked in on Scotty, who’d gone back to sleep. The fact that he was sleeping through this cemented her decision.

“My sister Tracy is coming to stay with him,” Sam said to Darcy. “If he wakes up before she gets here, tell him I took his dad to see Harry. Don’t say anything about ambulances or paramedics.”

“Of course. I hope the vice president is okay.”

“So do I.”

Sam ran out of the house without a coat and bolted down the ramp to the back of the ambulance. The sight of Nick, unmoving and strapped to a gurney, his face ghostly pale, made Sam stagger under the weight of her fear. Thankfully, Brant took hold of her arm and helped her into the ambulance before she tripped and fell.

“Why won’t he wake up?” she asked the paramedics when they were on their way to GW.

“We think he’s severely dehydrated. We’re pumping fluid into him, which ought to help.”

Dehydrated. She could work with that.

“But he’s going to be okay, right?”

“He should be.”

Sam clung to those three little words on the rapid trip to the hospital, where he was taken straight into an exam room. One of the nurses put an arm around Sam’s shoulders and guided her out of the room. “Let me find a place for you to wait where you won’t be bothered, Mrs. Cappuano.”

“I want to be with him.”

“Give us a chance to get him stable, and we’ll get you right in with him.”

“He’s not stable now?”

“We’re still assessing his condition. It’ll be a few minutes.”