Hasley winced as she hobbled into the crowded clinic, her right ankle throbbing from the stupid trip on her apartment stairs. Deadlines had her rushing everywhere lately, and now this. The waiting room smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee, and she clutched her bag like a lifeline, trying to ignore the sharp pain shooting up her leg with every step. At twenty-six, she should know better than to run down stairs while juggling her sketchbook and phone, but the client wanted changes yesterday, and her freelance graphic design work didn’t wait for clumsy accidents.
“Hasley? Room three,” the nurse called after what felt like an eternity.
She limped down the short hallway and eased herself onto the exam table, the paper crinkling loudly under her. The room was small but clean, with posters ab
