Tearing Down the Junior Sister Who Impersonated Me
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Summary
I was in my third month at the hospital when, in a rush, I accidentally sent a photo of my car meant for the dealership to my work group chat instead.
The new intern, a sharp-tongued girl named Dabby, immediately called me out.
“Dr. Hayes, why are you posting a picture of my car? Are you that desperate for clout?”
Stunned, I asked if she was mistaken. It was my car.
But she just spammed the chat with a series of photos and videos of herself driving a G-Wagon, her hand casually on the wheel, proving it was hers.
Her messages dripped with condescension.
