The Physical Returns

Dr. Dee Williams greets Ella Hollywood the moment she steps through the door. This is Ella's first visit and nerves jangle just under her skin. Dee's voice is low, calm, almost amused, and she keeps talking until the knot in Ella's stomach begins to loosen. Only then does the real exam begin. She presses cold disks to Ella's chest, counts heartbeats, watches pupils flare. Checks biceps, knees, wrists. Precise. No wasted time. When everything meets her standard, Dee slides the stethoscope down and lets it dangle. "We're going to need another set of hands," she says. Khloe Kay, the new nurse, walks in wearing scrubs like they were made for her. Ella's eyes flick up before she can stop them. Ella recognizes her: Khloe had once been in Ella's place on that table, just another patient, now here in authority. Two pairs of gloves snap into place. Fingers trace every mapped inch, colder than skin, clinical yet insistent. A quick stethoscope push between Ella's ribs, a light press just under her navel, a tendon flick that makes her calf jump. Each contact lights a slow burn deeper under the surface. Blood gathers. Ella's throat goes tight. "Clean bill of health," Dee announces, snapping the last chart note closed. Her gaze lifts. "Of course, we could keep you a little longer. Run one more test." Khloe stands at her shoulder, both women still wearing white coats, latex, and professional smiles. Neither of them pretends the tension belongs to the exam anymore.