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"Mom?" I ran to her and dropped to my knees. "Mom!"

Her eyes were closed. Her skin was pale. Too pale.

I touched her cheek. "Mom, wake up."

Nothing. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

"Call 911!" My voice cracked. "Dylan, call 911!"

He crouched beside me, checking her breathing and pulse. "She's breathing. She's got a pulse."

"Then call an ambulance!"

"The hospital's close. We can get her there faster."

Before I could argue, he scooped my mother into his arms. I followed him outside, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear anything else.

He opened the rear door of his truck and carefully settled her across the back seat. "Get in with her."

I scrambled in. Dylan climbed behind the wheel. And we were moving.

I held my mother's hand. "Mom? Can you hear me?"

Her eyelids fluttered. Relief hit me so hard I almost sobbed. "Mom?"

"Kayla?"

"I'm here."

She blinked, confused. "What happened?"

"You passed out. We're taking you to the hospital."

Her brow furrowed. "The hospital?"

"Yes."

"Oh, honey, no." She tried to sit up, and the effort drained more color from her cheeks.

"Don't move. Just stay still."

"I'm fine,” she breathed as her eyes closed.

"You were unconscious on the floor. I didn’t know if you were alive." My throat started to close around the words.

"Okay, no need to be a drama queen."

I stared at her. Seriously? She'd nearly given me a heart attack, and she was critiquing the presentation?

"Please just lie still." I squeezed her hand in a silent plea as tears filled my eyes.

She nodded weakly. "Okay, sweet pea."

I looked out the window, blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the liquid emotion threatening to fall down my cheeks. I could handle emergencies. I handled multimillion-dollar crises before breakfast.

But this? This was my mother. And I had never felt so completely helpless in my life.

Within minutes, Dylan pulled up to the emergency entrance, jumped out, and opened my door. Before I could figure out how to help Mom out of the truck, he was waving toward the entrance.