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.

a strand of blond hair around one finger.

“Oh,” she said, without blinking. “Was that yours?”

I stared at her. “You knew it was mine.”

She smiled. “You always act like everything is so dramatic.”

My interview at Adler Medical School was at eight the next morning. Adler was my first choice. My only real chance. I had spent two years working nights as a continue reading …