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.

could see you.

So when it was my turn to ask a question, I closed his file gently and said, “Tell me what it took for you to get here.”

His shoulders lowered.

And he told us.

Not the polished version.

The real one.

That was the lesson my sister accidentally taught me with a bottle of bleach: some people will try to ruin what you wear because they cannot continue reading …