[BONUS] I Went to a Plastic Surgeon Who Promised to Make Me One of a Kind

Dr. NoSleep· Host0:00

Dr. No Sleep.

Dr. NoSleep0:03

Samantha Blake clutched her handbag, her slender manicured fingers gripping the leather of the purse as if it were the only thing keeping her to the ground. She knew she had no reason to be nervous. If anything, the staff so far had been friendly, if not a bit overtly professional. Even the tall, dark-haired man in the pristine doctor's coat in front of her, poring over a file of headshots, had been surprisingly welcoming. He had even offered her a glass of cucumber water and pulled out a rather comfortable office chair for her to sit on. She was a veteran model. 20 years in the industry had taught her well on the subject of reading people's faces, seeing the little telltale expressions in the eyes and lips. The way the man's narrow almond eyes squinted ever so slightly at the corners, how his lips would wet themselves as if preparing to say something before suddenly going silent. Yes, Samantha knew exactly what they were thinking of her. That alone was worse than any explicit threat they could have made to her. "Well, Ms. Blake," Dr. Bittner's voice was calm and collected, sharp as a scalpel, yet as soft as gauze. "I can give you good news and the bad news. Which one would you prefer to hear first?" Samantha swallowed hard, washing back the sour bile that rose up from within her stomach. She prayed that her shaking would easily be written off as being the result of the coolness of the room. "I'll take the bad news." "Your body