𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘀

𝟏𝟐𝟖

"𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍"
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ
𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘶

"THE SOCIETAL impact of these technologies cannot be underestimated. We stand at the brink of a new era, where the choices we make today will shape the future of humanity. Our ability to navigate the ethical intricacies of genetic manipulation will define the legacy we leave for generations to come. It is obligatory upon us—" Noah pauses and shakes her head. "Sorry."

"Take your time," Emily says as she digs her fork into the takeout box.

"It is incumbent upon us to establish a framework that balances the potential benefits with the ethical considerations, ensuring that we progress with a conscientious and compassionate approach," Noah says and takes a deep breath. "Scientifically, the exploration of gene therapy demands rigorous scrutiny."

"Good," Emily nods before taking a bite of her food.

"While the promise of cures looms large, we must remain vigilant in understanding the potential risks and—" the teen stops again, feeling like she's using too much air to breathe. "I, like, run out of breath."

"You're nervous, it's normal," Emily shrugs.

"I shouldn't be nervous talking in front of you," Noah groans as she flops down on her bed. "If I can't talk to you, how am I supposed to talk in front of all the people I don't know?"

If Noah is being honest with herself, she is nervous talking in front of Emily. She wants to impress her mother and prove to her that she's been working hard on her speech. She wants Emily to see how she's improving and putting her school dues to good use. That was never important to her before, but ever since she started living with Emily, she can see herself having a future.

"Honey, just relax," Emily says as she puts the takeout box on the nightstand. "Just take a deep breath. Don't rush it. Give yourself time in between sentences to breathe. Act like it's just a conversation between you and another person, not a whole audience."

"I know," Noah sighs. "But there's so many big words that it doesn't come out casually."

"Stand up," Emily tells her, making the teen stand again. "Give me your cards."

"Why?"

"Just give them to me," Emily says before taking the cards from Noah. "Now, go."

"Go what?" Noah asks.

"Do your speech."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You just took my cards," Noah says as if the answer is obvious.

"You're gonna use your cards on the day?" Emily asks.

"Well, I'll have them, but I won't be reading off of them," Noah explains.

"Okay, then you don't need the cards," Emily replies. "C'mon. This isn't the real deal, so if you forget something, just use filler words. You won't be able to do it without the cards if you don't start somewhere."

Noah takes a deep breath and starts her speech over again. Emily listens carefully while she glances at the cards, seeing if Noah is able to stay on track with them. Not to her surprise, the teen is spot on and was worrying over nothing. As she finishes the speech, Emily throws the cards on the bed and slowly claps.

"You don't even need them!" the mother exclaims.

"They make me feel more comfortable," Noah says as she tries to hide her smile. She grabs her cards from the bed and puts them back in the right order.