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like a storm compressed into human form—early thirties, focused, no wasted motion. He introduced himself directly to Ethan, not to me.
“I’m Dr. Kowalski. I’m going to examine you. I’m sorry you’ve been waiting.”
Ethan nodded, jaw clenched. Kowalski did what Vance hadn’t: a real exam, a careful history, a quick look at the trajectory of symptoms. His continue reading …
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