“I am dealing just fine on my own.”

Even as he said the words, he knew it wasn’t true. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, and lately, there were more nights like that. Twice, in fact, Brent had had to come right into his bedroom and pull him out of bed for scheduled monitor time—and on one of those occasions, it was early afternoon. It seemed he was bothered by something else after every viewing. When he wasn’t obsessing about whether the clone would remember to renew his car registration on time, he was questioning his apparent lack of preparation for an important meeting at work. He went to bed at night with his mind reeling over stupid, trivial things that never would have kept him awake before. Had the clone remembered to double-check the photo credits for the newsletter? Did he give Louie his flea medicine? Did he lock the garage door? Was it his turn or Diana’s to get Parker to his guitar lesson on Monday night? Was he keeping up with the maintenance schedule on the new car? If he missed a single oil change, the warranty might lapse. And Jesus, he thought, was he taking it to the dealer? They’d rob him blind. He didn’t trust his double to take care of things. This, coupled with the fact that Diana now seemed even more obvious about her transgressions—even at the expense of the family—had him stressed. It was starting to make a dark appearance on his face. He could see it every time he looked in the mirror.

“I don’t know,” he told Natalie Young. “Maybe I’m not coping as well as I should be. But it isn’t easy. I feel trapped. Maybe you’re right, I feel like I don’t have any control. It’s possible they chose the wrong person for this.”

“I don’t think Dr. Scott makes mistakes like that,” she said. “He must have seen something in you that made you the right person for this.”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

It was a question he still grappled with. Why the hell was he here? The entire affair had been so rushed after the first contact, everything happening so quickly, that he’d never had a chance to stop and question why he’d been chosen. Scott had said only that they knew Jeremiah would be loyal to the company, and therefore, presumably, to the experiment. But, in fact, Jeremiah held no great love for ViMed. If he had his way, he’d go back to newspapers in a heartbeat—get back to writing something that actually mattered, something that could make a difference. There was no denying, his heart was still back there. And as he considered this, he remembered what Scott had said to him at their very first meeting: “You did what was expected of you. You toed the line, Mr. Adams.” In that moment, Jeremiah felt suddenly very small.

“Maybe they just like me or something,” he told Natalie Young.

“You are a likable person,” she said with a tight, unconvincing smile.