Briana takes a receptionist job at a boutique dental clinic expecting quiet work and steady pay. What she finds instead is devotion.
Patients flock to Doctor Helen Eninac for her miraculous whitening treatments, leaving with unnaturally perfect smiles and an unsettling loyalty. The clinic hums with drills, suction, and promises of transformation. Briana tells herself the discomfort she feels is just part of the job, the sounds, the smells, the way people seem willing to endure anything to be admired.
Then the complaints begin. Bleeding gums. Sensitivity. A metallic taste no one can explain.
As rumors spread and authorities begin to ask questions, Briana is forced to confront the truth she has been avoiding: that beauty has a cost, and silence is a form of payment. When Helen disappears, leaving behind only questions, and an impossible gift, Briana must decide what she is willing to live with, and what she is willing to become.
Teeth is a quiet, unsettling novella about vanity, class, and complicity, where self-improvement curdles into consumption and the most dangerous thing is not what we take but what we allow ourselves to stand beside.