Gravelle considers Theodora. If I believed this man truly had any empathy left in him, I’d say that he looks, for perhaps the first time ever, like maybe her words have gotten through to him. “Of course I meant it, Thea,” he says. “I meant all of it. You are special. More special than anyone else on this planet. But being special requires responsibility. You have an obligation to the world, and as your guardian, it’s my job to ensure that you fulfill it. Caring for someone, raising a child requires tough love. In your case, it requires a steady hand, to show you where you’ve faltered. You are all soft. Too soft. You see the world a certain way because you’re still full of childish hope. I can tell you with certainty that hope is a losing proposition. No, no. You must not hope, ever again. You must do. You must fulfill your true destinies, the very ones you were created for. You must step into your roles as my legacies and never look back.”

Theodora moves to stand in front of her chair. Her eyes are glassy from the tears that have pooled there. I take in a breath, unsure of what she’ll do; what she’ll say.

“Go ahead, activate that virus, if you must,” she says coolly. “From this point onward, I won’t do anything else you ask of me. Ever again.”

The Island

“Thea!” I cry out. I hear my friends echoing the same concern.

“No.” Theodora holds up a hand. “I meant what I said. Sending Damian Leroy to prison was the worst thing I’ve ever done. And after everything you put us through, everything we already lost… A chance at a real childhood. A chance at a real life, and a shot at connecting with our DNA families… Why did we have to be the ones to ruin it all, for the families we only wanted to be a part of?”

“Sounds like revisionist history to me,” Gravelle answers, looking like a tightly coiled spring about to snap. “I cost you a real childhood? I gave you everything you could have ever wanted! The best tutors. A facility where you could train to become the best of the best. The brightest and most knowledgeable people this world has ever seen.”

“And love? And compassion?” Theodora says quietly. “And self-esteem and resourcefulness?”

“He gave us plenty of that,” Levi quips. “We’re nothing if not resourceful, because we’ve had to be. But the rest. Theodora’s right. You raised us via your twisted template, to be your warriors. Your soldiers—not your children.”

“An opportunity most people would kill for. You have every possible future at your fingertips. Top colleges. The best careers. You are the true legacies at Darkwood. You are the better versions of your originals. If only you’d see it the way I do.”