My Parents Abandoned Me At The Hospital At 13 R…

Inside the box was a ring, simple and silver, with both our birthstones.

“To remind you that you’re never alone,” Rachel said.

I wore that ring every single day.

During my senior year of high school, Rachel and I started talking seriously about college. My grades were exceptional, 4.0 GPA, perfect scores on AP exams, strong SAT scores. I discovered a passion for medicine during my treatment, wanting to be like Dr. Patterson and Rachel, someone who helps people through their darkest times.

“I want to apply to Johns Hopkins,” I told Rachel one evening. “Their pre-med program is one of the best in the country, and their medical school, it’s a dream.”

Johns Hopkins was also obscenely expensive. Even with financial aid, it would be a stretch. Rachel didn’t hesitate.

“Then that’s where you’re applying. We’ll figure out the money. You apply to Hopkins, and you’re going to get in.”

She was right. In March of my senior year, I got my acceptance letter from Johns Hopkins University with a substantial scholarship. Between the scholarship, grants, and federal loans, the cost was manageable. Rachel insisted on covering my living expenses.

“You focus on school,” she said. “I’ve got this.”

“But no buts. You’re going to be a doctor. You’re going to save lives. You’re going to be extraordinary. That’s worth every penny.”

I cried when I opened that acceptance letter and Rachel cried with me. We’d done it. Together, we’d proven everyone wrong.

I spent four years at Johns Hopkins working harder than I’d ever worked in my life. Pre-med was brutal. Organic chemistry, physics, biology, endless labs and papers and exams. I called Rachel almost every night. Sometimes just to hear her voice. Sometimes to cry about a bad grade or a hard day.

“You can do this,” she’d say every single time. “You’re Sarah Torres. You beat cancer. You can beat anything.”

During my sophomore year, I came home for Christmas break and noticed Rachel looked tired. Thinner. I asked if she was okay and she waved me off.

“Just working extra shifts to help with your expenses. I’m fine, honey.”