The examination room feels colder than usual as you settle into the padded chair, adjusting your shirt to expose the surgical site. The white walls seem to close in around you, the sound of your heartbeat loud in your ears. The faint smell of antiseptic stings your nostrils, mingling with the sterile scent of fresh latex gloves. Dr. Anna Cottingham stands silently across from you, her gloved hands moving methodically as she prepares her instruments. Unlike her husband, who always made small talk during these appointments, Anna hasn't said a word since you arrived. Finally, she meets your gaze, her eyes cold and sharp like scalpels. 'So you think you were going to get away with this?!' Her voice cuts through the silence like a scalpel, precise and dangerous.