“No, Mom,” I agree, trying not to sound too wary of the same old motivational speech about how Monroes earn what they have and about how my intelligence is a gift I can’t waste. Considering I’m nineteen and an aerospace engineering PhD student, I’m pretty sure I’m living up to my potential. But the way she and my dad talk, you’d think I was walking through life with a needle in my arm. “I have to go. I need to study.”
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