Of course he knew. That fact had been the single outward clue that I was different from the others, albeit in hindsight. While every other Mem began life slightly paler than their Source, I hadn’t. At the time, my original Banker and his team had decided that there were too many variables to say definitively if my pigmentation and consciousness were at all related, given that I was extracted so soon after the memory that spawned me. Now, when most Sources extracted memories from further in their past and differences in their coloring were attributable to any number of things, determining the significance of my complexion was harder still.

“I’d like to see them now,” I told Harvey. “The examination pictures the nurse took. To know for myself what will become of me.”

“Are you changing, Dolores?” His tone was academic. He may as well have had his writing pad in hand, prepared not to listen but to keep a detailed record.

“Perhaps. But if my skin is fading, it’s because I’m underground.”

“Away from sunlight?”

“No.” I resisted the frustration threatening to silence me. If Harvey Parrish could change my fate, whatever it was, I had to plead my case. “Away from freedom. I never felt I might expire until now, that’s all I know for sure.”

“Your color hasn’t changed,” he said with the reserve I was beginning to consider uniquely his. “It’s precisely the shade of brown it was the day you were extracted. The same is true of your hair and eyes. And it’s nothing short of remarkable, Dolores. That’s the truth.”

I noticed when his eyes flicked away and, at my noticing, he cleared his throat.

“But if you’d like to see for yourself, I’ll have the pictures shown to you.”

I breathed, as calmly as I did whenever I wore my silk robe with Elsie’s embroidered name. With his promise, the garment felt close, though it still hung in the closet. And despite that I knew so little of her, no matter that I’d seen The Toll of the Sea numerous times, I knew she was the one to be envied. Elsie was the real girl, born in the same world as the man who loved her and perhaps loved for no more reason than that. Especially now, when I was alone with Harvey for a second time, Elsie was the one I wanted to be.

“I met that dowager,” I said suddenly. “A few years ago. It’s remarkable to see her in the Keepsakes, looking so young. I only hope they’ll be the legacy she intended, if ever her children decide they want them.”