On the morning of my medical entrance exam, I woke up in a panic—my alarms had mysteriously been turned off, and it was 9:55 a.m., just five minutes before the test. Becoming a doctor had been my dream ever since my mother passed away from cancer, and I had studied countless hours for this moment.Desperate, I asked my stepmother Linda for a ride, but she dismissed me, smirking. Just as I was about to run, my 8-year-old brother Jason spoke up. “I saw Linda turn off your alarms last night,” he said, his voice brave. Linda sneered, dismissing my dream as a waste.But Jason had already called for help. Moments later, two police officers arrived, and after Jason explained, they offered me a ride. With Jason cheering me on, I made it to the exam hall just in time, feeling my mother’s spirit urging me forward.Afterward, I shared everything with my dad, who, shocked by Linda’s betrayal, asked her to leave. Thanks to Jason’s courage, I was able to pursue my dream.
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