Rosa looked up at him, tears streaming freely down her face, her voice trembling with a fear she could no longer contain. "Sir, the baby," she managed, her breath catching sharply. "Something feels wrong. The juice was cold, and then I fell, and now there's this pain—"
David's face went pale with immediate, overwhelming concern, all business obligations and travel fatigue forgotten entirely in the face of Rosa's evident distress. He turned briefly toward his mother, his expression carrying a fury he rarely allowed himself to direct at her, before returning his full attention to Rosa.
"We need to get you to a hospital right now," he said, already reaching for his phone with one hand while carefully helping to steady her with the other. "Can you stand, or should I carry you?"
Rosa nodded weakly, allowing him to help her rise slowly from the floor, her hand still pressed protectively against her stomach, the earlier sharp tightening beginning, mercifully, to ease slightly now that she was upright and no longer alone in her panic.