On the morning of my medical college entrance exam, I woke up late to find all my alarms mysteriously turned off. As I raced against time, my 8-year-old brother stepped in with a plan that would save everything.

Ever since I was little, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. When my mom died of cancer, that dream only grew stronger. I wanted to help people like her, to understand the disease that had taken her, and to help others fight it.

I worked for this moment for years, through late nights, countless books, and more exams than I could count. Today, all that work was about to pay off: it was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.

Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone—6:00 a.m., 6:15 a.m., and 6:30 a.m. I even left my curtains open so that the sunlight would wake me up. As I lay in bed, I thought of my mom, promising myself I’d make her proud.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, something felt wrong. It was dark, too dark. I reached for my phone, and my heart stopped—9:55 a.m. My exam was starting at 10:00.

“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I threw my blankets off and grabbed my phone. All three alarms were turned off.

“I know I set these!” I muttered, my hands shaking as I got dressed in record time. My mind raced with questions. How did this happen?

I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed, my hair flying everywhere. “Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride! My exam is in five minutes!”

She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that was as cold as her coffee cup was hot.

“You’re late already,” she said flatly. “Maybe next time, you should learn to set an alarm properly.”

“I did set it!” I almost shouted, feeling the sting of frustration and panic in my voice. “I triple-checked. They were on, all three of them.”

She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Clearly, you didn’t. Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school, hmm? If you can’t even manage to wake up on time, how will you handle something serious, like a patient?”

I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. This couldn’t be real. My stepmom wouldn’t do this to me, would she?

I turned toward the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot but feeling I had to try. Just as I reached for the handle, I heard a small voice behind me.

“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said, his voice shaking with nervousness but his eyes steady.

I turned, confused. “Jason, what are you talking about?”

He took a small step forward, looking at Linda cautiously. “I saw her. Last night. She turned off your alarms, Emily.”

Linda shot him a sharp look. “Jason, stop making up stories,” she hissed.

Jason gulped but didn’t back down. “I’m not lying! I saw you go into her room, pick up her phone, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam anyway.”

My mind was spinning. I looked at Linda, searching her face for denial, for any sign she’d say it was a misunderstanding. But she just sighed, crossing her arms.

“You know what, Emily?” she said coolly, her voice hardening. “Fine. Yes, I did it. You’re not fit to be a doctor. It’s a waste of time, energy, and, frankly, a lot of money that your dad could spend on something worthwhile.”

“Like… your beauty salon?” The words came out before I could stop them.

Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, getting louder, heading toward our house.

Jason, now clutching my hand, gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”

Linda’s face hardened as she looked at Jason. “You seriously did this?” she asked, barely able to form the words.

Jason’s small voice cut through the tension. “You are the bad guy, Linda,” he said, his eyes fierce despite his small frame. “Emily is going to be a doctor one day. Mom would be proud of her.”

Linda’s face twisted, and before she could say anything, the wailing sirens outside grew louder. I watched her look toward the window, her eyes widening with surprise.

The front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside. One of them, a tall, broad man, spoke with a calm authority. “Is everything alright here?”

Jason didn’t miss a beat. “I called you,” he said, standing tall despite his young age. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”