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    “For yourself?” Hamza’s eyebrow arched skeptically, unspoken questions flickering across his professional demeanor. “Surely you don’t mean…”


    “Yes, I require your expertise,” Hadley confirmed, her manufacturedposure beginning to crack. “I’m experiencing difficulties that demand professional intervention.”


    “How unexpected!” Hamza responded, genuine concern creasing his features. “During our previous conversation, you indicated significant improvement in your overall condition.”


    “That assessment was urate at the time,” she began, but then faltered. Bitter irony washed over Hadley—life’s cruel unpredictability had once again demonstrated its capacity for devastating reversals.


    “I apologize for arriving without prior arrangement, Dr. Perkins,” she continued with practiced politeness. “Might you have avability to evaluate my symptoms and rmend appropriate pharmaceutical intervention?”


    Rather than responding immediately, Hamza consulted his timepiece with professional deliberation. “My schedule permits a brief consultation before the next appointment. Please apany me to my private office.”


    “Thank you,” Hadley replied, relief evident in her voice.


    Within the sanctuary of his consultation room.


    “Please make yourselffortable,” Hamza indicated the upholstered seating before settling into his chair. “Provide me with a concise overview of your current concerns.”


    “Very well,” Hadleypressed her lips momentarily, gathering courage to speak honestly. “Yesterday evening witnessed the return of my previous resistance symptoms—directed toward someone with whom I share intimate proximity.”


    “What triggered this sudden recurrence?” Hamza’s expression grew grave as he leaned forward investigatively. “Has some specific incident precipitated this regression?”


    Hadley’s affirmative nod carried the weight of unspoken trauma etched across her pallid features.


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    “Please proceed at your own pace—there’s no need for haste,” he encouraged with therapeutic gentleness.


    “I appreciate your patience,” she replied, steadying herself for the difficult revtion ahead.


    Following herplete ount, Hamza absorbed the information with professional gravity before acknowledging her trust with a thoughtful nod.


    “Your situation is entirelyprehensible,” he responded with measured reassurance. “I encourage you to release some of that umted tension—psychological healing rarely follows a linear progression, and setbacks are a normal part of recovery rather than failures. How would you like to proceed from here? Shall we resume therapeutic intervention?”


    “Do you consider continued treatment essential?” Uncertainty clouded Hadley’s voice as she sought professional guidance. “From your clinical perspective, Dr. Perkins, does my current condition warrant significant concern?”


    “It’s nothing too rming, for now.” Hamza gave a small shake of his head. “Right now, the symptoms are mild since they only beganst night, but it’s too early to predict how things might unfold from here.”


    “I see…” Hadley hesitated and then asked, “Would it be alright if you prescribed something for me?”


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