I saw the thick muscles in his neck go rigid.

“He’s too hot,” Arthur said. “Way too hot.”

He leaned down closer, placing his ear near Rowan’s nose and mouth.

“His chest is retracting under his ribs,” Arthur muttered, his firefighter training taking over. “He’s working too hard to get oxygen.”

He looked up at the empty hallway, then back down at me.

“Where is Landon?” he asked.

The question felt like a physical blow to my chest.

“Outer Banks,” I managed to say, my voice cracking. “With his mother. He took the car keys.”

Arthur’s gray eyebrows furrowed, but he did not say another word about Landon.

He did not waste precious seconds expressing anger.

Instead, he stood up and reached down to lift me.

“We are not waiting for an ambulance,” Arthur said.

“Is it that bad?” I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“The station on Providence Road is closed for renovations this month,” he said, pulling my arm over his shoulder. “The dispatch from the main station downtown will take twenty minutes in this traffic.”