Mom was the one who had worked because she’d had to, because she’d had no other options. He’d focused on career so much that she only saw him when he came back for birthdays and holidays. Sana didn’t like bringing up her father, but for some reason, he seemed pertinent here. Train to be a doctor, take the big paycheck, kid. I want to know that the past ten years of my life will be worth the next forty. I want to know what it’s like to go into work every day and treat patients. And even those, they aren’t everyday conditions, are they? They’re an exceptional week in the life. We didn’t have the money growing up for me to take any of those medical mission trips. I don’t know what it is to wake up every day and go into a hospital. She took a deep breath, ready as she would ever be. But in front of another person was something else altogether. Having to admit to herself what she was about to say had been terrifying enough the first time. Sana had practiced this part alone in her room. The woman nodded again, her sharp eyes a little narrowed, waiting. I’m sure all your other applicants feel the same. Similarly outfitted with beautiful, institutional mahogany furniture. Aside from the interviews Sana did for summer jobs, every interview room she had ever been in had been similarly painted. The walls of this room were a faded slate gray.
Sana paused so the woman could give another noncommittal nod. My whole life has built up to being a doctor. I’m, like, a poster child for doing the most. I elected to take organic chemistry in my senior year. I’ve taken every premed class you can take while you’re still in high school. My hand-eye coordination is off the charts, frankly. I’ve been playing video games for longer than that. I’ve practiced stitching with cross-stitch and embroidery since I was ten. “I’ve wanted to be a surgeon my whole life. Who doesn’t want to add working at a research genetics hospital in rapidly industrializing India to their future med school application?”
“Why me? As opposed to someone else? Look, I know you’ve got thousands of applicants for this position. But Sana saw the interviewer’s sharp eyes.
She was dressed to blend, to be forgettable. The woman had on a dark, boxy suit and had her hair fixed in a sleek, long bob.
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