“Youk be too busy with your residency to notice I’m gone,” I teased, though there was truth in it. We’d been Inseparable through medical school, but our paths were finally diverging—mine to John’s Hopkins, hers staying at Detroit Medical.
“I keep thinking about what Mom and Dad did,” Jessica said said suddenly. “Or didn’t do, I guess. All these years I thought I was the lucky one because they paid more attention to me, but they were really holding me back—making me dependent on their approval.”
I sat beside her on the window sill. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jess.”
“I didn’t do enough right either,” she countered. “I should have spoken up sooner.” She sighed. “They’re devastated, you know. Mom keeps crying about how you must hate them. Dad’s telling everyone who’ll listen about His Brilliant daughter at John’s Hopkins like he personally funded your research.”
“Let them,” I said, surprising myself with how little it bothered me now. “Their approval doesn’t Define me anymore.” And it was true. The constant ache of seeking validation from parents who would never truly see me had finally subsided. Dr Flemings mentorship had shown me what genuine support looked like—challenging me when I needed pushing, defending me when I needed protection, and always, always seeing my potential without qualification.
“So what happens now?” Jessica asked. “With us, I mean.”
I took her hand. “We find Our Own Way forward, without the competition they created between us.”
“I’d like that,” Jessica smiled, squeezing my hand. “Dr Audrey Collins, Patterson fellow. I’m so proud of you, sis.”
For the first time in years, I felt completely at peace. The path ahead was challenging but clear—and entirely mine to navigate on my own terms.
I moved to Baltimore on a humid Sunday that smelled faintly of rain and the bay. The rowhouse I rented in Canton had brick walls that held the summer heat and a narrow staircase that made moving boxes feel like a core rotation. A neighbor named Elaine knocked twenty minutes after the movers left with a plate of cookies and a business card for her cousin, who owned a reliable locksmith. “City rule,” she said. “Change your locks and learn your alleys.”