TASHADr. Marrick pulled a rolling stool beside me and angled the monitor so I could see it from where I sat. The display filled with layers of my scans, each one color-coded and organized into neat columns that made the damage look strangely orderly.His hand hovered over the screen as he explained the markers with measured detail—cartilage collapse along both knees, early mineral breakdown in my spine, hormone pathways dimmed to almost nothing, and a cellular age reading that settled far outside any normal range. He spoke clearly, giving me room to absorb each point at my own pace, and the steadiness in his voice helped me keep my breathing under control.I listened while the reality unfolded in front of me, and every number felt like a line drawn through memories I had spent years brushing aside. I thought back to the mornings when my joints stiffened before school, when I had needed help standing after training drills mandated for my age, when teachers told me to sit out of activit
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