I was sixteen when he came to our house. Landon Jones, a boy with nothing, from nowhere. He had cinnamon hair and gray eyes--just like mine. When we went out as a family with my foster brother, people asked if Landon was my twin. He wasn't. That year, we found out how much he wasn't. When my parents caught us, they threw Landon out like trash.Now I'm twenty-seven, a soon-to-be surgeon, like my mom and dad. I know residency is going to kick my ass,...