“Thanks,” I said dully. After setting the cup on the chair beside me, I pulled the shirt on.

Enzo lifted his chin. “Don’t thank me for the coffee. It’s one step above sludge.” He grimaced.

“One minute she was fine, talking, laughing. Then she was sick. I—” My voice cracked and I dropped my head into my hands.

“You got her here fast,” Caden said. “Where she needs to be.”

I stared at the floor again, the minutes ticking by. This waiting was torture. Shooting to my feet, I paced the waiting room.

I thought of Tessa smiling, bustling around the lobby of the hotel, staring with sorrow at the dead deer, handing me ibuprofen, moaning under me. My hands fisted. I couldn’t lose her.

She was too full of life. Too good. She was pure, strong sunlight.

There was a noise, and I looked up.

Allie, Sierra, and Jazz all rushed into the waiting room. Allie was wearing a pair of men’s pajama pants and a hoodie. Sierra was in tiny pajama shorts and a puffy coat. Jazz looked like she’d taken a minute to actually get dressed in jeans and a sweater. A dark-haired man I assumed was Jazz’s husband was with them.

“What happened?” Allie demanded.

“She got sick and her heart rate was elevated.” A muscle ticked in my jaw. “I don’t know anything else.” I looked away and sucked in a breath.

Sierra came over and touched my arm. “She’s tough. She never lets anything slow her down.”

Jazz looked worried, Allie looked mad.

There was more noise. God. A middle-aged blonde woman, two teenage boys who looked freaked, and two younger kids who looked sleepy but scared entered the room.

I turned. “Emily?”

Her gaze locked on me. She strode over. “Ambrose?”

“Call me Ro.”

She grabbed my hands. “How is she? Jazz called and said you’d brought her here.”

“I don’t know yet. I…got her here as fast as I could. They think maybe it’s poison.”

Tessa’s aunt gave me a tight nod. “Thank you for bringing her here.” She dropped into a chair.

The older boys shot me death stares as they sat beside their mother. They knew what it meant when a guy was spending time with a woman at this time of night. I sat down as well, my hands twisted together on my lap.

Something tapped on my knee.

It was the young girl. Her fine blonde hair was mussed and she was wearing pajamas with some weird characters on them. I had no idea what age she was. Nine? Ten? I hadn’t had much to do with kids before.

“You helped Tessa?” the girl asked.

I nodded.

“I hate being sick. So does Tessa. Will she be okay?”

God, there was so much trust in the little girl’s gaze. I nodded again and prayed I wasn’t lying.