Exam — Rachel Steele - Gyno

Dr. Vance measured it. 4.7 centimeters. She took several images, her jaw set. Then she withdrew the wand.

Dr. Vance didn’t say anything immediately. She withdrew her hand, stripped off her gloves, and made a note on her tablet. Her face was carefully neutral, but Rachel had spent a decade reading micro-expressions in boardrooms. She saw it—a flicker of concern. Rachel Steele - Gyno Exam

The speculum entered. Rachel tensed, her hands gripping the edge of the table. It was uncomfortable, a stretching sensation, but not the searing pain she remembered from before. She took several images, her jaw set

It had been three years. Three years since her last annual exam. She knew it was irresponsible. She was a savvy, in-control woman in every other aspect of her life—closing million-dollar deals, leading a team of twenty, running half-marathons. But the moment she saw the stirrups, the cold speculum, the bright overhead light, she became a terrified teenager again. Vance didn’t say anything immediately