Embraced (#2 Natives series) #ProjectNigeria

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

            MUNIR WALKED INTO THE HOSPITAL alongside a frazzled looking Fatiha. Silently, she followed him to the front desk like a tourist, leaving him to lead her and speak to one of the personnel on her behalf like asking for her auntie was some sort of difficult language she couldn't phantom.

"She'll be fine, insha'Allah." Munir whispered to her again for the upteemth time.

She only nodded once. She had stopped crying by the time they'd boarded the uber that was to take them to the hospital but he could still see the panic burbling underneath her composed demeanor. She had her hands clenched so tight he could see the red indentations her fingers made into her fair skin, while a foot tapped impatiently against the granite floor of the hospital lobby.

A voice pulled Munir's attention away from her as he listened to the personnel speak.

"She was taken in for emergency surgery as soon as she came in." The uniformed woman informed and the information must have seemed too much for Fatiha because she released a strangled sound.

"Thank you," he voiced to the woman then quickly to Fatiha said, "She'll be fine. They were quick to act, so I'm sure she'll be fine." He reassured.

Fatiha nodded. "She will, won't she?" she asked unsurely, speaking up for the first time since they'd gotten in the uber.

Although her words came out as a little whisper, Munir was glad she was talking again. They headed to the emergency ward silently, following the red line on the wall as the woman at the front desk had instructed. The hospital was so large it took Munir and Fatiha nearly fifteen minutes to get to their destination. Outside they spoke to a security personnel who waved them in before they met with a nurse. This time around Munir stepped aside to let Fatiha take charge of the conversation.

"She's just down the corner. Bed sixteen." She informed him after speaking with the nurse. They made their way down the corridor with zero conversation, the smell of izal and antiseptic filling their nostrils as the sound of their footwear echoed through the slightly deserted hallway.

By the time they got to the ward, Fatiha hesitated at the presence of doctors and medical personnels exiting the ward. Munir watched her face start to grow pale and before she could begin to panic he assured her that nothing would happen to her auntie. Her red lidded eyes and the quiver of her lips begged for his words to be true.

"Assalamu Alaykum," she finally called out, greeting and identifying herself in agitation before asking about her auntie's condition.

Most of the doctors walked off leaving only one behind to explain the situation. The man had on a suit pant that barely reached his ankles, a button down T-shirt and a doctor's coat. The identification card around his neck identified him as a Dr Yunus Ibrahim.

"Are you her guardian?" the doctor asked in Hausa.

Fatiha nodded in a rush. "Is she okay?"

"Alhamdulillah, she got here in time, however, due to her underlying condition and the fact that the fall was fatal to her head she has fallen into a coma. We believe that she would get better and that this is just a short term coma. Regardless..."

The words coming from the doctor's mouth turned to gibberish, leaving only the mention of coma registering in Fatiha's unstable brain. She looked down at her feet, regretting the action instantly when she spotted trails of blood on the otherwise clean flooring. She gasped and clutched her stomach as the feeling of sickness tried to overtake her but she stood firm. She couldn't fall while her auntie was lying in a hospital bed alone. With her eyes closed, she sucked in deep calming breaths and forced herself to listen to the rest of the information the doctor had to offer.