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My mother does.

She gets to her feet the moment I enter, and I cross the room before she has to take more than two steps.

“Ross,” she says, and I put my arms around her. For several seconds, she says nothing. She simply holds on to me.

“What happened?” I ask when she finally pulls back.

“He was in his study,” Eleanor says.

“He said he felt strange. Then he sat down, and before I could get to him, he was on the floor.”

Her voice catches, but she forces herself through it.

“The ambulance came quickly,” she continues.

“They worked on him before they brought him here.”

“Was he conscious?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

I look at Sebastian. “Have you spoken to the doctor?”

“Twice,” he says. “They’re still working on him.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“They won’t say much until they know more,” Sebastian replies.

I feel the first real edge of fear then, not panic, but something colder.

I turn toward the door. “Who’s the attending?”

Sebastian gives me the name, and I repeat it once so I remember.

Voss steps forward. “Ross, the hospital has restricted access to the floor. Security is downstairs, and no one’s getting through without clearance.”

“Good,” I say. “Keep it that way.”

Katherine rises. “We’ve also asked the staff not to release anything externally.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

That is all I want from them. No statements, no calls, no discussion of what comes next. Not yet.

My mother sits again, and I take the chair beside her. Sebastian lowers himself into the one across from us. For the first time since I arrived, none of us has anything to do, and that is the worst part.

I can make decisions when there are decisions to make. I can ask questions when someone has answers. I can move people, call people, fix things, but there is nothing to fix here.

There is only a closed door and the knowledge that my father is somewhere behind it while strangers try to keep his heart beating.

Eleanor reaches for my hand, and I take hers immediately. Sebastian leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor while the minutes stretch without shape. Every time footsteps approach the room, all three of us look up. Each time, they pass. Until finally, one set stops outside the door.

The cardiologist steps into the room with another doctor beside him. I know before he speaks. Something in his face has changed. My mother rises so quickly that the chair scrapes against the floor behind her. Sebastian stands at the same time, and I move with them without thinking, all three of us facing the doctor while the room goes unnaturally still.

The cardiologist looks first at my mother.

“Mrs. Kensington,” he says carefully, “we did everything we could.”