From high school through college, Sarah Ferguson tormented me relentlessly.
She said I reminded her too much of her dead sister, and just the sight of me was an eyesore.
She'd put glue on my chair, slip dissected lab rats into my backpack, corner me in alleys to take humiliating nude photos and post them on the school's confession page. She kept throwing mud at me... making no one dared make friends with me.
But I refused to give in. I refused to let them win.
I threw myself into studying, mastering medicine, and psychology-desperate to save myself.
Healing yourself is, after all, a kind of solace.
All those cruel, childish games, all because of Sirena Ferguson.
She was Terry Black's long-lost muse.
Seven years ago, because I looked like her, Terry Black pulled me out of that night
