Morning light caught the edge of Marcus Chen's third "30 Under 30" award and cast a familiar golden glow across his office. He'd moved it twice that week, searching for the perfect angle. Outside his window, fog rolled across the San Francisco skyline-the same fog his father had once watched while prepping vegetables in his restaurant kitchen at dawn.
Marcus minimized the code review on his screen, trying to avoid the red comments Sarah Martinez had left there. She may have been his mentor three years ago, but things were different now. He was different. The venture capital firms circling his AI startup proved that much.
"Your algorithm has a blind spot," Sarah had written. "The bias in your training data could cause serious real-world consequences."
Marcus's jaw tightened. Sarah was steeped in traditional thought. His invention was going to change the face of decision-making for healthcare-he knew it would. Certainty was a comfortable coat he wore these days, though at times it felt to be a size too big.
His phone buzzed, a text from his father: "Coming to dinner Sunday? Your mother misses you."
Marcus typed out his usual excuse, then stopped. The investor meeting had gone well yesterday. James Wilson had nodded at all the right moments, especially when Marcus explained how his AI could do the work of whole medical teams. Maybe he could spare an hour for family.
The little Chinese restaurant was exactly as he remembered it, right down to the faded lucky cat beside the register. Even his father wore the same apron, though more grey threaded through his hair now.
"Ah, the big CEO," he teased, setting a plate of dumplings in front of him. "Still saving the world?"
"We're close to a major breakthrough," Marcus said, straightening. "Once we secure this round of funding—
"Your Sarah came by last week," his father interrupted. "She had the mapo tofu again. It's still too spicy for her." He grinned. "She misses you."
Marcus looked down into his bowl. "She doesn't understand what we're up to. Nobody really does. That's how it is with innovation."
His father was silent for a moment, wiping his hands on his apron. "You know, when I first opened this place, I thought I knew everything about running a restaurant. First year, I almost burned it down because I was too proud to admit I'd installed the wok burners wrong." He smiled. "Sometimes the most expensive lessons are free."
Those words stayed with Marcus over the weekend, pungently in his mind, like some jarring pebble in his shoe. On Monday morning, he found himself opening Sarah's code review again. The sun caught his awards differently now-perhaps it was the season changing.
Her comments were methodical, precise. She'd traced the bias to its root, showed exactly how it could cascade through the system. When had he stopped being this thorough himself?
The message to Sarah had taken him four attempts to write:
"Can we meet? You might be right about the blind spot."
Her response came quick: "Copper Cafe, 30 minutes? I'll be the one drinking the too-spicy chai."
Marcus stood, grabbing his jacket. He paused at his office door, glancing back at the awards. After a moment's hesitation, he moved them away from the window. The view was better without them.
The fog was lifting outside. Somewhere across town, he knew his father would be starting prep work, teaching new staff how to install the equipment right, letting them learn off his mistakes instead of their own. There was wisdom in that-a kind that didn't fit on magazine covers or investor pitch decks.
Marcus pulled out his phone as he walked, adding a reminder: dinner with his parents on Sunday. Some algorithms, he was learning, needed human input if they were going to work properly. Even if it meant admitting the ones you'd written yourself weren't quite perfect yet.
The thing about pride is that it makes a better compass than a destination – but only if you're brave enough to check its direction now and then.
More Stories at https://vocal.media/authors/emily-stories
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