I stare at her. “Low how.”
“Not dangerous,” she replies, “but low enough to correct and observe. You’re pregnant, you fainted in the lobby, and I’d rather be cautious.”
Malik shifts beside me, his knee bouncing once.
Dr. Patel looks at me again. “Do you have someone who can stay with you overnight if we discharge you later?”
“I’m fine,” I say, because my mouth is still loyal to the lie.
“You fainted in a public lobby,” she replies, still calm. “That’s not fine.”
“I have a friend,” I say, and I glance at Malik.
Malik lifts his brows. “I can drop her home,” he says. “I can’t stay overnight.”
Dr. Patel nods as if she expected that. “Understood. Another question. Our system shows an emergency contact. Do you want us to call them for discharge planning, or do you want to decline and sign that you’re leaving against advice if you insist on going home alone?”
My stomach tightens. “Don’t call him.”
Dr. Patel’s expression doesn’t change, but her voice gets firmer. “Then you’re staying overnight for observation.”
I open my mouth to argue, then I feel my pulse in my throat and I realize I’m too tired to win this fight.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll stay.”
“Good,” Dr. Patel replies, and she makes a note. “We’ll move you upstairs shortly. You’ll get potassium repletion, more fluids, and monitoring. If anything changes, we escalate.”
She steps out.
Malik leans closer, voice low. “You okay?”
“No,” I admit, and it comes out rough.
He nods once, and he looks at me the way people look when they want to help but don’t know how without crossing a line. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”
I shake my head too fast. “No.”
“Lila,” he says, careful. “You fainted. You’re pregnant. You don’t get to do this alone just because you’re good at disappearing.”
My hands curl under the blanket. “I’m not disappearing.”
“You did,” he replies, then he softens. “I’m not judging you. I’m saying you look scared.”
I stare at the sheet because looking at him makes me feel too seen.
He exhales. “Okay. I’m going to stay until they move you upstairs, and then I’m going to go, but I need you to tell me one thing.”
“What.”
“Are you safe?” There’s no gossip in it, there’s only concern.
My throat tightens. I should say yes because it’s easy, and I should say no because it’s true, but the truth is complicated and I’m tired.
“I am,” I say finally. It’s not the full truth, but it’s the truth I can manage. “I will be.”
Malik studies me then nods. “Text me when you’re settled upstairs,” he says. “And drink water.”
“I hate you,” I tell him.
