Page 146 of Death is Familiar

Okay, now they couldn’t have been talking about me. Because⁠—

“That’s you,” Todd confirmed, as he sat back down on the chair next to the window. “Signed you in under an alias.”

“Oh, I’m…” I looked to Todd for support, since I wasn’t really sure what exactly had been shared or, if I was honest, how I was feeling.

“He doesn’t have the answers for you.” The woman in the white lab coat—the doctor—shook her pen between the two of us. The fact that she could also see Todd, put any residual worries to bed. “Only you can tell me how you feel.”

“I…I’m just confused.”

“Disoriented, are we?” She gestured to the equipment I’d detached, but neither her, nor the woman in cat scrubs, made any move to reattach it.

“Well,” the doctor pulled up a rolling chair next to the foot of the bed, “you came in covered in swamp matter, presenting with a bacterial infection, and quite the fever. Do you know what happens when a fever gets too high?”

“You sei⁠—”

“You hallucinate, or you seize.” It was a rhetorical question then. “And you, Ms. Baker, seem to have managed both. But it wasn’t just you we had to worry about, was it?”

My attention darted to Todd. He hadn’t said anything about Three, but maybe they had her in another room, maybe… they weren’t talking about Three. Oh no, oh dear god, my passenger was about to be outed by a condescending doctor.

“We treated the infection, fever, dehydration, all open wounds, a series of rashes, and were able to stabilize your vitals.” She reviewed my chart like it was a laundry list. “Nothing here is too worrisome, but we’ll be keeping you under observation for a couple more days to ensure your levels stay in check.”

Maybe she wasn’t going to say it, maybe she would leave well enough alone, and I could do what needed to be done.

The doctor stood, tapping my feet in a half-baked attempt at bedside manner. “Both mother and baby are expected to make a full recovery. If you need anything⁠—”

Never mind.

I knew it was coming, I did, and still I hadn’t been ready. Ice water sluiced through my veins, coated my lips. A prickle of sweat dripped down my spine.

The doctor was saying something, I’m not quite sure what, I picked up on her condescending tone, the words “swamp” and “care”, then she and the woman in cat scrubs were gone, leaving me alone. With Todd.

The doctor had just dropped a bomb, and left me to deal with the fall out.

Conscious for less than five minutes, I was in a position where I had to confront weeks of lies.

I could do this. I needed to. It was better for me to face it head-on. To rip it off like a band-aid.

But how could I make it make sense? How could I tell one of the only people I respected, and trusted with my life, something that would forever change the way that they saw me? Perhaps I could hide under the blanket and⁠—

Todd had taken a hold of my hand. Our fingers interlaced.

Steeling myself, I sucked in a great lungful of air, then rushed the words out, “I’m pregnant.”

He squeezed my hand, accompanied by a wistful smile. “I know.”

“I—” Wait. “You know?”

He let his eyes wander to the monitor behind me. As expected—since I’d rather recklessly pulled the monitoring equipment off my chest—it was all flatlines and zeros.

But there was a secondary monitor beneath, and it held a very prominent, very rapid, heartbeat. In my haste to escape, I hadn’t removed everything, because the monitor was wired to a thick band wrapped around my abdomen.

“Shit.” A tremor started in my legs. There was no hiding it now. “You must’ve been surprised, huh?”

Todd squeezed my hand, again, then, “Not… exactly.”

“Not exactly?” The tremors moved up towards my spine. “What, you’re saying, you knew?”

He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.