“You know what? I have. I rehearsed it every single time I thought about what you were so busy doing. You ever think that the things you’re building are going to be used on you someday? Not just brown people or poor people or strangers, but you and your mother and the people you love? That you might end up convincing yourself that you don’t love anyone rather than admitting that you’re doing the wrong thing? You want to end up living by yourself, a miserable old dragon sat on top of your hoard of blood money, trying to find something, anything, to distract you from the things you did and the people you did them to?”

“Tanisha—”

“Shut. Up. You’re goddamned right I rehearsed this, Masha, because you appointed me your conscience and I have not done much of a job of it, girl. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from hanging around with you all these years, it’s that you’re special. Not many people can do what you do. Maybe in twenty years, we’ll have a whole generation of baby geniuses with your skills, but right now, when you don’t do something, there’s a good chance they won’t be able to hire anyone else to do it. That means that your choices mean something.

“Now, I look at you and see your back stiffening and I know what you’re thinking, you’re all, ‘Why the fuck is this my burden to carry? Let someone else save the world, I just wanna pay my bills.’

“But you need to flip your script. This is not a burden, it’s a winning lottery ticket. Most of us are passengers of history, but every once in a while, if you’re very lucky, lightning strikes and you get to drive. You got the wheel right now. Sure, it’s an awesome responsibility, but awesome is awesome.”