Chapter 7:

#NotSoWhiteCoat

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We invite incoming medical students and their families as we celebrate our White Coat Ceremony for the Pritzker College of Medicine.  

Keynote Speaker : Aiden Metsler, M.D., Dean of the Pritzker University School of Medicine, Endowed Professor, Pritzker University Health Care System

Friday, August 18 at 2 p.m at the Fitzgerald Winery

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I plucked the trampled invitation from the grass, eyeing the flowery font. I was here at the winery to serve hors d’oeuvres, not collect trash, but my OCD kicked in.

"Michael Anderson." Another name rang out over the speaker system as I weaved through the crowd, balancing a tray. I felt like the food I was carrying—a mini caprese skewer slow-cooking in the relentless sun.

I watched Michael’s football physique stomp onto the stage’s wooden planks—a tall, broad-shouldered lineman charging into a tackle as he accepted the gleaming ivory jacket from Dean Metsler.

Someday, that’ll be me.

But what will I have to sacrifice to make it onto that stage? Sleep? Keg stands? FOMO? My sanity?

A late night is it love or lust spiral?

For a day that marked the beginning of future sacrifice, it was undeniably beautiful. The sun peeked through the clouds, and the air carried the faint, sweet aroma of dried grapes–a novelty to someone raised just outside Las Vegas. I took in the picturesque villa nestled in the greenery; the breeze tugging at summer dresses and suit jackets. 

On my third lap through the crowd with a half-empty tray, I discreetly slipped a shrimp skewer into my apron pocket. 

Gross, I know. 

But it was one of the few appetizers that would still resemble actual food by the time I ate it for dinner. 

“Prin, is that you?”

My head snapped around at the mention of my name. A petite blonde beamed at me, her bright pink lips stretching into a familiar grin. She wore a designer floral-print maxi dress that blended so perfectly with the lush backdrop, she practically disappeared into it—like a chameleon effortlessly adapting to its chosen environment.

“It’s me, Madison.”

It took me a moment to recognize my former dorm mate from Coronado Prep. During my senior year of high school, I had tutored Madison—a wide-eyed junior from the first floor of our girls’ boarding house, trailing behind Zara and me like Paris Hilton’s chihuahua. I’d always found it endearing. Zara, on the other hand, had been one eye-roll away from losing her mind.

“Hi, Madison. Good to see you. It’s been a minute.”

Madison’s eyes sparkled. “I can’t believe it—I never thought I’d see you again. And honestly, I almost didn’t recognize you. You look so... different.”

She wasn’t talking about the uniform. I was the photo-negative version of my former self—everywhere light, now dark. My hair, my nails, even the liner around my eyes.

But was it the kind of different Parker would even notice… if he weren’t three thousand miles away on the other coast? Different enough that, if he were here, he’d lean in close—close enough to trace the outline of my lips and make me forget every reason I should tell him to stop?

“What are you doing here…at my cousin’s white coat ceremony?” she added, her voice laced with something between awe and uncertainty.

“I’m starting school here next week…majoring in pre-med” I said, adjusting the tray in my hand. “Just working for extra cash.”

“I’m starting too! We’ll be pre-meds together. How have you been…these past few years?” Madison’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and I could already see where this was heading. 

I didn’t like it.

“Love your dress. Excited for school to start?” I deflected, knowing nothing redirected a Prep schoolgirl’s attention like a well-placed compliment. My gaze flickered to her outfit—tight as ever, a size too small, revealing more than intended…or maybe that’s exactly what the intention was. 

Smart girl.

“Can’t wait. Not sure how many of us from Coronado made it in,” she said, smoothing down the fabric as the breeze toyed with the hem.

Ah, yes. The Coronado Seal Six—a self-proclaimed elite vortex of former Coronado Prep students who had secured their spots at Pritzker. I scanned the crowd, shielding my eyes from the sun.

“I’d better get going,” I said, shifting my weight.

“We should do a study session some time! It’ll probably be you tutoring me again—just like the old days. I’ll message you,” she chirped, waving like a pageant queen before strutting off.

I spent the next twenty minutes threading the busy crowd like an embroidery needle, passing colorful finger food to sweaty A-listers in business casual. On my way back to the kitchen, I slid between two young men, my tray accidentally jutting against his shoulder. 

“Watch it.”  An unwelcome yet familiar face stared back at me—Zara’s ex boyfriend, Sebastian. In high school, he’d clung to her more tightly than his high-yield brokerage account, probably because she checked every category for him—including a tenfold boost in his social media followers. I tried to veer away, but it was too late. His predatory gaze had already locked onto mine.

“Well, look who it is—the girl who vanished and had half the school convinced she faked her own death. Can’t believe I’m seeing you in person… and not on a milk carton.”
Sebastian’s scowl deepened, his eyes sharp and cold.

His eyes swept over me in a way that made my skin crawl. The memory of Parker’s gaze—warm, steady—hit me in stark contrast, and I hated that Sebastian could still make me feel cornered.

Of course the rumors hadn’t faded.
Nothing digital ever does—it’s all etched into the internet like stone.

But he needed to know I wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

I stepped forward, closing the space between us.

“What’s that smell?” I asked, tilting my head. “New cologne?”
I paused, then smirked.
“No, wait. Just the stench of your old-money privilege.”

I backed away slowly, my expression dripping with sarcasm.

He ignored the comment. “Watch your back, GoFundMe poster child. It’s your fault what happened… to Layla.”

Zara’s sister. Post-it Lie: My actions have not killed someone. A secret that would destroy both of us if it got out. Even Sebastian, with all his connections and wealth, couldn’t escape that fallout. Like facing a mountain lion, I tried to make myself look bigger. I hadn’t spoken to Zara in over a years, but Sebastian didn’t need to know that.

“Why are you here, Sebastian? Don’t donor students still need a minimum GPA to go pre-med?” I tried to sound bored, but my insides were trembling. I knew exactly what Sebastian was capable of—a kid who once called him out in class for confusing a bear market with a bull market mysteriously ended up with bruises and a limp the next day from basketball.

“Think I’d set foot in a hospital by choice? I’m a finance major. A family friend invited me, not that it’s any of your business.”

An announcement over the speakers instructed every​​one to take their seats. “Saved by the announcement,” I said as I headed toward the kitchen to return my tray and take my legally required—yet well-deserved—break. 

My tray felt like a ton of bricks, piled high with wine glasses, half-eaten plates of food, and a smelly paper bag courtesy of a kid clutching his stomach after one too many deviled eggs.

As Dean Metsler’s voice echoed across the vineyard, I slipped away, cutting through the crowd toward the rose garden.

Sebastian’s words still clawed at my chest.

Layla’s death wasn’t supposed to follow me here.

But maybe it always would—

the way Parker’s gaze followed me, burning through me from head to toe, like he could see every scar I tried to hide.

 No one wanted me here.

 The only question was—how far would they go to make me disappear?

***

Will Prin break free of her curse with Death? Is her only hope the power of love?

XOXO, Sabina