The drive to the hospital felt endless. Neither Ethan nor I spoke after the call. The only sounds inside the car were the steady hum of the engine and my heartbeat pounding painfully against my ribs, every horrible possibility racing through my mind at once.
"What if I'm too late?" I whispered, more to myself than to him.
"You won't be," he answered firmly, his eyes never leaving the road.
"You don't know that."
"No." His grip tightened around the steering wheel. "But panicking won't get us there any faster."
I wanted to argue. Instead I pressed my trembling hands together and stared out the window, and for the first time since this strange arrangement had begun, I forgot entirely about the contract, the reporters, Vivian, and the board of directors. All I could think about was my mot
