“But you said Dolores. Whatever Dolores can’t live with.” When he didn’t respond, I stood and approached him, watching him straighten as I came near. “Of course the mandate will apply to all of the Vault; it would have to. But you had me in mind, didn’t you?”

He tried to scoff, or else something caught in his throat.

“Harvey.”

“Elsie,” he said back, then stumbled on his words. “There are still any number of hurdles to consider.”

“Of course.” I came closer.

“It’s an option we’d be able to suggest, that Dolores reprint another available Mem. But we couldn’t go so far as to compel her. Not under this mandate. Not as it’s written now.”

“I understand. Cross my heart.”

“All right.”

“I only want you to admit you’re the one responsible, that it was you who proposed it.”

In films, the leading man would have taken my face in his hands, my eyelashes batting incessantly. By the movement of his lips and the dramatic motion of his head, I could guess what the title card would read: affection spelled out in black and white. But this was no film. In the month since my recall, Harvey Parrish had proven incapable of dramatic pantomiming—but not devoid of love. He was a scientist and his affection had been shown in the solving of a complicated dilemma, imperfect as the solution might be. He would not rest until it succeeded.

“It doesn’t matter who’s responsible,” he said, lacing his fingers behind his back. “As long as it’s approved.”

“It matters to me.”

When he lifted his chin, I lifted mine as though some invisible string connected the two, my lips parting again and encouraging him to speak when he opened his slightly.

“And the stained glass and lights in my dormitory? And the armoire? What other Mem would need them?” I asked, my voice growing quieter so that neither of us could step away. I was both warm and cold, my skin glowing and goose-pimpled. “Did the Professor commission those?”

Before he could decide whether to lie, I continued.

“Because he wouldn’t have. My Professor doesn’t want me comfortable here; he wants me released. It had to be you then. Before you’d ever met me.”

My new smile widened; all his resistance was finally expired.

“You found me out, Elsie,” he said, responding in a voice low enough to match mine, though his quiet seemed born of caution. “I felt like I knew you, long before you came.”

My breath quickened but I said nothing.