“Who did this to you? What made you believe you’re disposable? You’re an heir, a scion, a professor, an artist, a potentate. Those are all positions of power.” I kept going, thinking it through. “Do you think you didn’t earn those first titles? That you must keep proving yourself? Heaping on more and more of them? Will it ever be enough?” His only response was the slackening of his fingers as they slid onto his lap. “You are worthy, Linus Lawson. You hear me?” I reached over and squeezed his chilly hand. “Don’t die proving it to yourself.”
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