Swimming is Ilde's preferred method of relaxation, and besides which, she's still investigating if there's anything else she can do in the water - which is one of the reasons she branches out from only using the pool on her own floor. She doesn't particularly want to be interrogated (again) about what she's doing, or be too predictable - which, logically, would make using one of the most recently populated floors counterintuitive. Except that that only follows if she wants to have an established habit of using other pools but only in underpopulated areas, and that sounds shady, actually.

So all she was doing was swimming. It's plenty; she's always loved the water. It doesn't have to be anything else to be worthwhile. She isn't really expecting to see Lily, or emerge just in time to catch that sudden swerve, either, and she regrets it almost as soon as she speaks--

"Lily?"

--because it's not really her business what the other woman is or is not doing, frankly. Lily has her number and knows she can contact her if she needs anything; she hasn't. Ilde wouldn't blame her for not particularly wanting to cultivate a friendship straight out of the gate with somebody who'd been corralled into handholding her through the still-trembling aftershocks of initial arrival.

She's already said it, though, so-- it's not as if she can pretend she was talking to the other Lily not present in the hallway.