I lifted her.
Thatcher finally stepped into my path.
“Winslow, stop.”
“Move.”
“She’s scared. You’re making it worse.”
Behind him, Sutton scoffed.
“If you rush her to a hospital, you’re going to tell people I attacked her.”
I stared at her.
“Did you?”
“It was an accident.”
“What happened?”
“She wouldn’t turn the machine off.”
Merritt’s fingers tightened weakly against my jacket.
Sutton continued.
“I was recording. It kept making noise. I told her to stop being dramatic.”
I looked at Thatcher.
He said nothing.
Greer entered from the kitchen.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
I shifted Merritt higher against my chest.
“I’m taking her for emergency care.”
Greer frowned.
“Nobody said you couldn’t.”
Sutton immediately said, “She’s going to blame me.”
Greer’s expression changed.
“Winslow, perhaps we should discuss what happened first.”
“No.”
“You don’t need to make a scene.”
“I’m not.”
I walked toward the door.
Thatcher stepped aside at the last moment.
Outside, Merritt felt lighter than she should have.
I opened the passenger door and carefully positioned her inside.
I reclined the seat slightly and reached for the emergency oxygen canister I carried with my work medical kit.
Then footsteps sounded behind me.
I turned.
Eleven relatives had followed us outside.
They spread across the driveway.
Greer stood in the center.
Sutton stood beside Thatcher.
Bryce moved closer to my driver’s side door.
Hayes hovered near the outer edge.
“You’re not leaving right now,” Greer said.
I stared at her.
“My daughter needs a hospital.”
“We understand that.”
“Then move.”
Bryce stepped forward.
“You heard her. We need to talk first.”
Behind me, Merritt made a weak sound through the oxygen mask.
My entire body wanted to react.
My professional instincts refused.
Eleven angry relatives could turn a driveway into chaos very quickly.
Merritt did not need chaos.
She needed movement.
I lowered my shoulders.
“Step away from the vehicle.”
Bryce’s hands tightened.
“Nobody’s threatening you.”