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.

Vanessa was there, sitting at the kitchen island in workout clothes, staring at her phone. Her engagement ring flashed under the pendant light.

She looked up when I entered.

“You got in,” she said.

“Yes.”

Her mouth twisted. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

I went to the hallway closet and pulled out a storage bin.

Behind me, she said, “Brent called off the continue reading …