“You should go home, Elizabeth,” Mara said, putting the surgical instruments into the tray with a metallic clink.

“I have work to do here,” I said, sitting up.

I walked down the quiet corridor to my office on the third floor, my limbs feeling heavy and cold.

I locked the door behind me and did not turn on the overhead lights.

The only illumination in the room came from the streetlights outside and the pale blue glow of my laptop screen.

My head throbbed in time with my pulse, but my hands were no longer shaking.

I opened my email client and pulled up a saved folder labeled *Jason – Recommendations*.

Inside were the draft letters I had written for my cousin, praising his character, his intellect, and his dedication to medicine.

I had sent those letters to nine different admissions committees over the past three weeks.

I opened a new email template.

I addressed the first one to the Dean of Admissions at the state medical school.

*Dear Dean Vance,* I wrote. *I am writing to formally withdraw my letter of recommendation for applicant Jason Vance.*