"Stupid patients. They can never make it easy, can they?" House is writing on the whiteboard. It now reads: CONSTANT SEIZURES, VOMITING, KIDNEY FAILURE.

"I think it's because they like the food here so much," suggests Thirteen. "Practically gourmet."

"It could be infection," proposes Foreman. "If it's blood borne, it could easily travel from her brain to her kidneys."

"Doubt it. She's got no fever and she's already been on broad spectrum antibiotics to make sure," notes Taub.

"Possibly leukemia. If it spread to her brain it would explain the seizures and vomiting," says Kutner.

House gives him the "are you really that stupid" look. "Did you miss the whole thing about kidney failure? Leukemia wouldn't do that."

"I know you don't believe in coincidences, but it's possible that if leukemia was weakening her systems, anything, like the contrast from the MRI, could be shocking the kidneys," he tries to explain.

"I suppose it's possible, but it's just not good enough," House complains. "Did anyone get a decent family history from her?"

"She doesn't know anything, and her parents are dead," Thirteen says.

"The girl's got a track record for lying. I think I'll do my own research and make sure there's really no Mommy and Daddy that could be useful for this mystery. Start her on dialysis until I get back." House shoos them away and starts typing on his computer.

Meanwhile…

"Dr. Cuddy, I'm going on my lunch break," yells Cameron across the room. Cuddy looks up from the file of some snot-nosed kid and gives her a nod.

However, instead of walking out the doors, Cameron heads into the elevator and goes up into the patient rooms.

"Hey Marissa, how are you feeling?"

"As good as I look," she replies. It's pretty true; the poor girl's hair is all over the place and her skin looks nine shades paler than the last time she spoke to the doctor.

"Yeah, I'm not so hot myself. But I'm certainly not going to bother you with that—"

Marissa chuckles softly. "No, please do. I haven't heard anything interesting all day except my blood sugar levels and how I'll be dead by tomorrow if I don't knock it off."

Cameron, all too eager to spill, starts, "Okay. So I'm sort of together with this cute Australian doctor—you haven't met him, his name is Dr. Chase—but I just found out that this other doctor, who I've always kind of liked, was kissing this other doctor."

Marissa raises an eyebrow. "Are you telling me about your problems, or summarizing today's episode of ER?"

Cameron shrugs. "Possibly both."

"Well, which one do you feel more comfortable with?"

"I guess the one I'm with now. But that's the problem. It's too comfortable. Friends comfortable. The other one gives me that strange feeling that half kills me and half makes me float in midair."

Just then, House enters with a decisive stride that is the all too recognizable symbol to Cameron that he's got something important to say. "Cameron, shut up about that cheese you brought for lunch today and scram. I need to have a word with this—young woman."

Cameron gets up to leave, but Marissa grabs her arm. "Whatever you need to say, I'm sure Dr. Cameron has heard it before."

House glares at her and then at Cameron, who returns it just as strongly. "Fine then, suit yourself. " He pulls up a chair right in her face, across from Cameron, who is getting a little nervous.

"I took the liberty of validating your claim about your parents being dead, given your past performances," he starts.

"I did NOT lie about the death of my parents," she asserts.

"Let me finish," he says sternly. She turns a shade whiter. "Surely enough, it was true. I found a lovely internet article concerning a really gross car accident. It says that they were survived by a daughter, age 14. I suppose that would be you, correct?"

"Of course."

"While I was perusing this fascinating article, I happened upon a date at the top. Turns out that this accident occurred on September 15, 2006."

"House, stop! You're only making her upset with this talk about her parents, you're going to provoke another seizure," yells Cameron, noticing Marissa's sudden pallor.

"That's not what's making her upset. It's because she knows that I know that she's been lying about her age. She's only sixteen," states House calmly. Cameron looks desperately at Marissa, who's about to burst into tears.

"You make it out of here alive, you're leaving in the hands of Child Protective Services," declares House.

Cameron holds Marissa in her arms for a few minutes, before she has to leave. Lunch break's over.

"Strike two against the hooker," House says as he stands before his team.

Foreman puts his hands on his head. "Okay, so she lied again. Is it diagnostically relevant?"

"Probably not," replies House. He notices Thirteen, who has been staring at him with disbelief for the last two minutes. "What on earth could possibly be so interesting about my gorgeous face that you've felt the need to gawk at it since I've been here?"

"Don't you feel disgusting at all? You almost slept with a sixteen year old girl!" Thirteen practically jumps out of her shoes.

"I thought about it, but my give a damn's in the shop. Besides, it would've been way better than sleeping with a sixteen year old boy," he responded to a huge groan from Thirteen.

One by one, every single doctor's beeper starts to sing its deathly song.

"My guess, dear ducklings, is that we all have the same word on our nifty little machines," House muses. They look at him, obviously concerned.

"Coma."