The sterile white walls of the private examination room seemed to close in, pressing against my chest with the weight of a collapsing building.
The small white plastic stick rested on the silver tray between Dr. Harrison and me. It looked innocent—almost harmless. Just a piece of modern plastic designed to measure hormones and decode biological mysteries. But to me, it felt like a detonator.
"I... I don't need to take it," I stammered, my voice trembling so violently the words barely formed. I pulled the edge of the paper gown tighter around my shoulders, my fingers clawing into the thin fabric. "It's just stress. It's exhaustion from the acquisition. I haven't been sleeping, Dr. Harrison. That's all it is."
Dr. Harrison didn't push me. He didn't hand me the stick or force my hand. He s
