The Helix Diagnostic Centre in Noida Sector 18 smelled of lavender sanitizer and suppressed panic. It was a cathedral of the modern age—pristine white floors, recessed lights that erased shadows, and a silence so heavy it felt pressurized. Here, people didn’t speak; they waited. They waited for token numbers to flash on screens. They waited for judgment days printed on A4 paper. Kabir sat in the VIP lounge (an extra ₹800 for a leather chair and a coffee machine). He stared at his Apple Watch. Heart Rate: 112 BPM. Resting. He tapped the screen as if he could reboot his own heart. For three weeks he’d felt a tightness in his chest—crushing, suffocating—usually at 2:00 AM. He had Googled it. Myocardial infarction. Angina. Early-onset coronary artery disease. He wanted it to be heart disease. Heart disease was respectable. A CEO’s wound. Proof that he had worked too hard, burned too bright. A badge that came with a prescription—and permission to “take it easy.”