"Tell me—are you okay? Why weren't you eating? Don't you realize how dangerous that is for our baby? Did they hurt you in there?
Were they treating you right? Look at you, you've gotten so thin!" Greg's words tumbled out in a rush, sharp with worry and guilt, as he hovered by Cammy's bedside, gripping her hand like a lifeline.
Eve raised her palm between them like a referee stepping into the ring. "Whoa, cowboy. Slow down. She's not ready for an interrogation," she teased, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "Let the woman breathe before you bury her in questions."
Greg exhaled, a sheepish grin flickering on his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "Right. Sorry. I just… I needed to know."
Cammy gave him a small, tired smile, her voice hoarse but sincere. "It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I should've taken care of myself better. But I couldn't help it, Greg…
