PART 1

After a twelve-hour shift at St. Mercy Medical Center, I pulled into my apartment parking lot completely drained. My scrubs smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee, and my phone had been buzzing nonstop.

It was my family group chat.

Dad: “We’re using your lake house this weekend. Twenty guests.”

Mom: “Stock the fridge and don’t make a scene.”

My continue reading …