And Louie, he thought. Why had he held on to that so hard? Like it was some twisted trophy, as though it were the last remaining vestige of his own identity. He’d been a fool to think it mattered, arrogant to think he could keep it hidden. It wasn’t the clone who’d destroyed his life. It wasn’t Charles Scott, even. He’d done it himself.

And Parker was out there. Under their scrutiny. Unprotected. Alone.

Brent began knocking at the bathroom door. “Are you all right?”

Jeremiah turned on the shower full blast, hoping that would get rid of him, and said nothing. Brent eventually stopped knocking.

The mirror began to fog over, and Jeremiah wiped at it with the sleeve of his shirt and studied his own face in the swath he cleared. He looked old. He looked tired. He looked different than he had when this whole thing had started several months before, and not just physically. He wasn’t the same man he saw on that monitor every day. He was separate. He was different. He was changed. And something in him welcomed it, accepted it, for better or worse.

For a few startling minutes Jeremiah seriously considered the idea of killing Charles Scott.

Never in his life had he been prone to violent thoughts, but they came easily to him in that moment. He imagined strangling the man with his bare hands, delighting in the agonized contortions of his face as he gasped for air and realized he was dying. The man was evil. He deserved it. And part of Jeremiah longed for that revenge, so much so, that his hands balled into tight fists as he considered it. But another part of him, a surprisingly logical part, understood that this wasn’t the answer. He stared into his own eyes and, with considerable effort, reined in his anger. If he killed Scott, he went to jail. Or worse. And that would leave Parker alone with that clone, helpless under the scrutiny of these people. Jeremiah couldn’t allow that, no matter how much he wanted Scott dead. This wasn’t about what he wanted. This was about Parker. This was all about Parker.

He was going to get out of here. He was going to get to his son. And if they wouldn’t let him out, he’d find a way to break out. If they wouldn’t let him trade places with the clone, he would have to take the clone’s place. He knew that. Looking at his reflection, he realized he would have to do something drastic. For once in his goddamn, miserable excuse of a life, he would have to take action. No more halfhearted attempts. He would make his own decisions, take control and create his own ending.

Chapter 31

Day 162

Jeremiah was going to kill his clone.

Somehow.

He lived quietly with that knowledge for several hours, growing into it, getting comfortable. He rolled the words over on his tongue, becoming familiar with their shape: Kill. Murder. Dead. He allowed himself ample opportunity to back out, to change his mind, but even when he looked for a reason not to do it, he couldn’t find one. This was the only way. As the idea took root in him, it became more focused and seemed to give him purpose. He saw it like a shield, solid protection against anything else this experiment could throw at him.