When Leila reached home after three in the morning, she expected silence. Instead the kitchen light was on and Nuru sat at the table in a hoodie over her training clothes.
“I told you not to wait up.”
“I wasn't waiting.”
The reply was normal Nuru. The voice was not. One hand was hidden in the hoodie pocket and her eyes looked too sharply alert for someone so tired.
On the table lay a wellness-camp bag and, half-hidden by a receipt, a small vial with a silver cap.
“Nuru. What's that?”
“Recovery injection.”
“From where?”
“The camp.”
“Today?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
Leila saw the slight tremor in her fingers and reacted before she could separate sister from pharmacist.
“We're going to hospital.”
“No.”
“Nuru—”
“I said no.”
Leila stopped. The line between protecting someone and controlling them had suddenly become physical.
“What symptoms?”
“Heat. Sounds getting too loud at night. Yesterday I had too much energy, then this morning I couldn't remember part of the ride home.”
“A memory gap?”
“A small one.”
“And you still don't want hospital?”
“I want to know whether you're taking me there as my sister or as your case.”
That landed harder than Leila wanted to admit.
“As your sister, I want you safe. As a pharmacist, I can't diagnose you from one vial and symptoms. And I cannot put you into a registry without your permission.”
Nuru pulled her hand from the pocket. A scrape crossed one knuckle and she could not explain exactly how it happened.
“What if you call Samwel?”
“Only if you agree, unless you lose the ability to decide or you're in an obvious emergency.”
“I can still decide.”
“Yes.”
Leila asked permission to inspect the vial. Nuru slid it across but kept a finger on it.
“That doesn't mean you can take it.”
“I'll look here.”
The label did not say Calm-X. It read RECOVERY N-PLUS, a product Leila did not recognize. Beneath the lot number was an inventory prefix: NC-D7.
“You know it?” Nuru asked.
“I recognize a prefix similar to something at work. Similar does not prove the source.”
“You've started talking like a report again.”
Leila exhaled. “Fine. I'm scared.”
That was harder to say than the technical language.
“So am I,” Nuru said. “But I don't want to wake up tomorrow and discover you decided everything for me.”
Leila remembered Elias saying, don't turn me into your case.
“What will you agree to?”
“Photograph the vial. Don't take it. Don't register me. I'll let Samwel assess me during the day, but not Nocturne.”
“And if you have a severe episode before then, we go to ER?”
“Yes. Not their ambulance.”
“Agreed.”
Leila photographed the label, lot and distributor code, then returned the vial. Nuru showed her the product-consent page from the wellness camp. The legal name in the footer differed from Nocturne, but the inventory code carried the same NC-D7 prefix Leila had seen on the Calm-X supply chain.
Nuru studied the two photographs side by side.
“So they're putting Calm-X under other names?”
“We don't know that. One distributor may handle different products. We need the chain.”
Nuru gave a dry laugh. “For once, your report language helps.”
Leila sent Zawadi a limited disclosure: close family member with potentially related exposure; consent limited; details available only by an independent route. She asked Nuru before sending even the code.
“Code only,” Nuru said. “Not my name.”
Leila obeyed.
Before bed, Nuru stopped her at the hallway.
“Tomorrow, don't tell the Board I refused hospital as if I'm just difficult. I refused going now without knowing what data you'd take.”
Leila felt a small sting of shame. “I'll say you agreed to Samwel's assessment and set limits on sharing.”
“Good. Now you can be my sister for two minutes.”
They sat in the kitchen without discussing medicine. Nuru talked about her relay and the fear that her coach would remove her if he heard about the episodes. Leila resisted the urge to decide what mattered more. She asked what Nuru wanted the coach told if things changed. Nuru said she would decide after assessment.
Later, alone, Leila zoomed in on both labels again.
Different product names.
The same distributor prefix.