“Happy anniversary,” the clone muttered when they pulled into the garage. He stopped the engine, got out of the car and was halfway into the kitchen before Diana had even unbuckled her seat belt.

Chapter 20

Day 106

Charles Scott did not often visit Jeremiah after-hours. When he did, he certainly never bothered to wait at the door until Jeremiah invited him inside. So, when he did just that, after eleven one night, Jeremiah was more than a little surprised. The encounter was made more awkward by the fact that he’d been practicing IF in his underwear again and hadn’t bothered to fetch his pants before Scott opened the door.

“Forgive me for the late hour, Mr. Adams,” he said, a slightly arched eyebrow his only obvious opinion on Jeremiah’s attire. “Something has happened, and I wanted to be sure you heard it firsthand before tomorrow’s viewing.”

Jeremiah stood up, intending to go to the bedroom to retrieve some clothes, but Scott put a hand up to stop him.

“What is it?” Jeremiah asked, suddenly alarmed.

“Perhaps you should sit.” Scott motioned toward the couch. Jeremiah stared at him and remained standing. Scott sat down and inhaled deeply.

“What is it?” Jeremiah asked again. “Is it Parker? Diana?”

“Your wife and son are fine, Mr. Adams,” Scott said uneasily. “But I’m afraid your mother has passed away. It happened just over an hour ago. The clone hasn’t even been notified yet, but I thought you should know as soon as possible. I’m very sorry.” He looked at him with an expression that was difficult to read, but leaned more toward curious than sorry, as though he was studying his reaction.

Jeremiah half sat and half wilted onto the couch.

“What happened?”

“They’re still looking into it,” Scott told him, “but it appears that she may have been given another patient’s medication.”

“What? I don’t understand. How could something like this happen? Why wasn’t anyone watching her? How the hell do they mix up her medication in a nursing home?”

“There is also the possibility that it might have been intentional on her part,” Scott said.

“No. Impossible. My mother would never do that.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Scott said, “but didn’t the doctor mention he’d seen signs of depression under the Meld?”

The Meld. Suicide. A shiver ran up Jeremiah’s spine. Could his own mother be the latest victim of Meld?

Scott stared at him quietly as if waiting for him to speak, but Jeremiah said nothing. He just sat with the knowledge for a moment more, letting it sink in. He was his mother’s only surviving family. There would be arrangements to make, he knew, and it would be up to him to see to that. Financially, there was little left to do. He had taken care of all that years ago, but there would be a funeral and other loose ends. He didn’t know where to start.

She had often tried to initiate a conversation with him about this very topic, from the time he was in high school, and he had always refused to discuss it. It had seemed morbid to him, and premature. He hadn’t wanted to think about it and was always put off by the casual way she’d just start talking about it, as though her own death really wasn’t that big of a deal.