I nearly keel over when I spot him. Levi’s on the shore, crumpled in a heap. He’s been hit. Debris is everywhere. This entire island is a powder keg, with destruction rippling across it in waves.

And I’m the one who triggered it.

“No,” I cry out. “Levi, no!” This can’t be happening. I checked before I ordered Seymour to hit that command. I checked on everyone! But especially Levi! I saw him leave the building and carry Theodora’s body to that boat. I thought he was safe.

But you didn’t see him climb into the boat himself, did you?

The Levi who is still here with me, Duplicate Levi, rushes to my side. We race to the window and watch, transfixed in our fear, as the other Emma huddles over the other Levi. Panic grabs hold of me with its unforgiving claws, and my eyes are glued to his prone form. Please let him be okay. Please let him and Emma get off this island. I let out a choke of relief when he starts to move his arms and legs, and eventually stands up, seemingly unharmed. Levi and Emma scramble for the last boat, and Emma’s already pulling the cord to start the engine, as smoke begins to billow out from the front doors of the compound and flames overtake the library. The thick black smoke makes its way into that beautiful building, the one filled with scores of irreplaceable books. In minutes, they will burn to ash.

I let out a sob. Levi’s okay. So is Emma.

Duplicate Levi grabs my hand and squeezes it so hard it hurts, and we hold on to each other for dear life as one last explosion rocks us, toppling us to the floor.

I’m ready, I think to myself. I clamber to my feet and watch the other Emma settle into the boat next to Levi, resting her head on his shoulder as the island burns. Everyone I love has left the island now for good, and I know that with this one, last act, I’ll free the Duplicates at home and facilitate the return of the DNA parents and originals to their old lives. Ollie and Jane will get their lives back. So will Levi and Emma. It will be worth it, to die.

Smoke is billowing into the room through the open door. I begin to cough, and so does Seymour, who’s still powerless to speak or move of his own accord. The coughing is involuntary. But he can’t flee the fire. He must stay here with us, and die. I consider releasing him from the hold I have over him. But what if he found a way, later, to reverse everything? To fly away in the copter and undo the reset? I can’t take that chance.

I will control you to the end, I think. It’s what you deserve.