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The night before my medical school interview, my sister poured bleach on my only blazer, and my parents told me to stop making a scene.

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face softened.

He opened my file again. “Then let’s begin.”

PART 3

The interview lasted forty-seven minutes.

I know because I checked the clock when I stepped out, expecting relief and instead feeling like my entire life had been pulled apart and arranged neatly across a conference table.

They asked me about my night shifts at St. Agnes Medical Center. continue reading …

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