"No," Greg said sharply, his voice slicing through the panic in the room. "We're not waiting for the ambulance."
Without another word, he stormed forward, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. He dropped to his knees beside Cammy's limp form, cradling her in his arms with a desperate tenderness that betrayed the chaos in his soul.
He lifted her carefully but urgently, holding her close against his chest as if willing his strength into her fading body.
"Open the damn door!" he barked.
Ric, already moving, yanked the front door open and slammed the elevator button repeatedly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Cammy's pale face and the glowing numbers on the panel. "Come on, come on…"
"Stay here. Watch over Dylan and Peter," Monica commanded the nanny and the caregiver in a tight, urgent voice. She was grabbing her handbag from the console table when a small voice tugged at her spine.
"Grandma?"
