In prison, his choices had been minimal, his schedule regulated. The sudden lack of a schedule had, to his disgust, caused him stress. He’d felt like a boat carried by the tide because its line to the dock had been cut.

Out of necessity, for the past two months since his release, he’d gone back to following the structure he’d followed on the inside. He woke at five. Ate at six. Exercised. Started work at eight. Lunch at eleven. Back to work until three. From three to five, he focused on projects. He educated himself on all the cultural advances he’d missed—the rise of social media and the polarization of Americans was hard to believe. He did maintenance on his truck, attended meetings with his parole officer or financial planner. He purchased, then linked together a desktop computer, secondary laptop, and smartphone. He installed the best Wi-Fi and TV package available. At five, he ate dinner. Followed by free time on the computer, watching TV, or reading. Bed before eleven.

For more than eight weeks now, he’d been living in a rented apartment on the top floor of one of Misty River’s industrial buildings. And still, every morning, he was struck by the amount of space surrounding him. The square feet of flooring and the cubic feet of air felt enormous. The windows alone—rectangular and divided into square panes—were ten feet tall.

Wearing black flannel pajama pants, he padded across his bedroom and pulled on a zip-up hoodie. When he reached his kitchen, he stared dully at the coffee maker while shoveling tablespoons of ground coffee into the filter. He’d never been a morning person—that detail had remained true through all four of his selves.

The first time his landlady had shown him this apartment, the bones of the one-bedroom, one-bathroom space with its large living area had been hiding beneath ancient carpet, shredded paint, and decaying wood. He’d asked her if he could renovate the place if he did so on his own dime. Since the apartment was already in the worst possible condition and there wasn’t anything he could have done to ruin it further, she’d given him permission.