“ICU,” he croaked.
“What happened?”
Samar slowly stepped back, sliding his arms down from her until she had to slide hers from him.
“Iram has a concussion and a fracture…”
The door behind them opened, and he turned. Another doctor in scrubs walked out — “We have put him on bronchodilators. His airways will open up.”
“His heart?” Samar questioned.
“Sinus tachycardia is common. ECG still shows mild stress.”
“Test him for all attack markers. Troponin I and T, NT-proBNP and ABG with carboxyhemoglobin.”
“Dr. Dixit, we are working on him, we will take care of him. ABG results will come in the next twenty minutes…”
“He is the most susceptible to heart attacks right now, I don’t want to take a chance.”
“He is under observation but stable…”
“Put him in the ICU.”
“He is refusing.”
“It doesn’t work like that, I will talk to him.”
Amaal stepped back as Samar opened the sliding door and stormed inside. She blinked, finally taking a full breath and letting the last ten minutes seep in. Her eyes met Atharva’s doctor’s, and then she turned, smiling sheepishly at the doctor behind her, who had been in conversation with Samar.
“You are with Dr. Dixit?”
“Yes. How is Iram?”
“You will get an update from her Orthopaedic Surgeon. Please wait outside, we keep the ICU…”
Samar stormed out, enraged. “Keep a nurse inside his room. Don’t let him escape,” he pointed over his back, looking the doctor in the eye. Both the doctors were taken aback.
“Samar.” Amaal moved to his side. “Relax.”
His eyes met hers, and stuttered. His mouth was pressed tight, his jaw clicking.
“What happened?” She asked.
“He wants to get discharged,” Samar bit out. “No letting him go until all his tests come clean, not a single trace of CO. He will try to talk around it, but do not let him leave.”
“I think you need to sit down, Dr. Dixit.”
“Yes,” Amaal agreed with the doctor. “We will go outside and…”
“I am sitting right here.” Samar marched to the line of three chairs and plopped down on the first one. “I don’t trust him.”
Amaal nodded apologetically to the doctors, and they quietly filed down the alley and out the door. She heard the tiny click, and turned to the man sitting there, seething. When the silence of the alley finally embraced them, she saw Samar’s forehead fall into his hand.
She walked to him on quiet steps, and bent down on her haunches in front of him. His tired, heavy head lifted. And deathly red eyes stared at her from behind fine specs. Amaal smiled. Samar was ok. Atharva and Iram would also be ok. Everything else would be dealt with.
“There must be something good…” he muttered.
“What?”
