My desk was covered in applications to universities with good pre-law programs. Of course dad said I needn’t bother with any of that. I could go to school where he did, and where Nathan did. Then I could join the firm, and become a productive member of the Petrelli family.

“I don’t want this.” I put my head on my desk in the middle of the application I’d half filled out and let out a deep breath.

Reaching into my bottom drawer I pulled out the completed nursing school application, and put a stamp on it. “It’s my life, sorry.”