MELISSA’S POV

The doctor’s assistant finally called my name, and I followed her into the office. The air-conditioned room was cool, with that same antiseptic hospital scent clinging to it. The doctor—a man in his late forties with kind eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses—looked up and smiled warmly as if he’d been expecting me.

“Melissa Brown?” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

“Yes, that’s me,” I replied softly, sitting down across from his desk.

He leaned forward ...