“I didn't create the system- I was born into it," I say at last. It feels like a fair thing to say.

His face seems to be at war. A flash of anger, a sharp narrowing of his gaze, then a slight pull of his eyebrows- exasperation maybe, but smoothed away to make room for a clenched jaw. "Please stop talking before I do something I regret. Por favor."

"What did I say that was so terrible?" My hands fly to my hips. "If you don't explain it to me, how am i supposed to know-"

"I'm a little tired of explaining myself," Rumi says flatly. "Have been for years. And you all never listen. Do your own reading on the subject, why don't you? And then come back and we'll discuss whatever you like.”