“Oh, that makes perfect sense,” Jessica quipped.

“I had all these theories about Charlie,” John said. “And even though I may have been wrong about the details, I suspected that Charlie, our Charlie, had been swapped out with an imposter. But it wasn’t a twin brother, or a twin sister. Afton swapped her out with … this.”

“A robot?” Jessica said skeptically. “Like from Freddy’s? John, that was different. People, kids, had been murdered. Those robots were haunted. I don’t even believe in hauntings, but those things were haunted! Robots like what you’re talking about don’t exist, at least … not yet. Plus, she knew everything Charlie did, how could Afton have programmed that?”

“She didn’t know everything, though. She blamed all the gaps in her memory on the near-death experience; her personality changed—everything changed—and we all believed she had just turned over a new leaf,” he said bitterly.

“You didn’t,” Jessica said, and he met her eyes.

“Yeah, but I wanted to. Something just wasn’t right.”

Jessica was quiet for a moment. “Why did she kill Jen?” she said abruptly.

“What?”

“Why would she kill Jen?” she repeated.

“Charlie’s aunt Jen knew her better than anyone,” John said. “She must have known she couldn’t fool her.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Jessica bit her lip, then her face took on a look of alarm. “Or she went there—”

“To find Charlie,” John cut in.

“John, we left her alone; we have to go back.”

John was already out the door, running headlong across the library to the exit. Jessica ran after him. They both got into John’s car and he hit the gas, clenching his jaw as they sped toward his apartment.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Have you forgotten something?” the man snapped, and the woman gave him a level stare.

“I forget nothing.”

“Then why are you not already on your way?” He lifted his arm weakly and gestured toward the door.

“Time is running short,” she said. “I do not understand why we are spending our time—your time—pursuing this thing. I am better used here.”

The man was silent.

“We are seeing results,” she added, but he shook his head.

“We are seeing nothing.” He held up a finger before she could protest. “Anyone can discover a fire already burning, but Henry found a unique spark—created something truly different, something he didn’t deserve, or intend, to stumble upon.” He gave the woman a sharp look. “You will bring it to me.” The woman cast her eyes to the floor, and when she spoke there was something pleading in her voice.

“Am I not enough?” she asked softly.

“No, you’re not,” he said firmly, looking away.

The woman paused, then walked out the door, not looking back.

*  *  *

Neither of them spoke as they sped toward John’s apartment. He gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white, trying not to imagine what they might find.