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Tyler Brennan’s cracked molar and empty wallet drive him an hour in his rusted Corolla to Dr. Stephanie Mack’s cut-rate clinic, where her porcelain smile never reaches her eyes. Her former army medic, Marcus Webb, and her warm hygienist, Renata Voss, keep the desperate calm while the drills run. Tyler is about to learn the real price of affordable care.
Tyler lies back in the worn dental chair, the overhead light blinding him as Dr. Mack's gloved fingers probe his open mouth, her porcelain smile never wavering. Renata's warm hand rests on his shoulde
Tyler surfaces in the dark exam room, the fish tank hum filling his skull, his jaw throbbing and his jeans still unbuttoned. The door is cracked open, and a folded paper receipt sits on his chest, wei
The door swings wider and Dr. Mack steps in, white coat crisp, clipboard in hand, and Tyler sees the syringe already loaded on the tray beside her. She reads the total aloud — 'Two thousand, four hund
The syringe's cold tip touches the crook of Tyler's elbow, and Dr. Mack's thumb strokes the vein as she tells him to hold still. Renata's hand slides from his wrist to his shoulder, pressing him flat
Tyler pushes through the front door at 5:58, the bell chiming, and finds Dr. Mack waiting in the empty waiting room, the extraction set laid out on the counter beside her. She doesn't ask why he came