Kenzie drew in a deep breath, then huffed. “Are you staying, Natalie?”

“I don’t think so. Even if I was welcome, I think I should really be back at my apartment, getting organized for going back to work. I’ll stay long enough to make sure you’re comfortable, and then I’ll be by first thing in the morning to pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

I checked on the Ashleys in the kitchen, and they seemed to be fine. Ashley had her arms folded while she leaned against the counter, and was inaudible as she talked to her sister.

“Does she need something?” Ashley asked, as she saw me. “Do you?”

“I’m just going to get sheets and blankets to make up her bed.”

“There’s a nice throw in the drawer under the coffee table. When you go to the closet for sheets, get the ones from the top shelf. Someone lacerated the nicer sheets.”

“I bought the nicer sheets,” was the response.

“With our shared money. If you refuse to fix your hands, you get to sleep in rags like a peasant.”

I rolled my eyes, and headed toward the closet door. Natalie was talking to Kenzie in a quiet voice, while Kenzie was lying down with her head on a throw pillow. I stopped to watch for a second.

In the other room, I heard the continued dialogue. “The hands are not changing, my dear whitewashed clone. I’m happy with them. They’ll be needed when I go.”

“Go? So you’ve decided?”

“It’s crowded. I’ve deigned to give you free reign, let you have your guests—”

“Guests you like. Also, this is my apartment. Paid for with money they gave me for my help in research.”

“That I contributed to as well. I earned my due, and you’d have nothing without my share of it.”

“I’d have something. I’m disappointed either way. You’re better than this.”

“I’m better than this. This is all very cute. Your friends are… cute. But they’re yours. I’m restless, and you know what this restlessness feels like.”

“I know what it is and what it becomes.”

“I’ve agreed to be good, little clone, because I didn’t want to bring trouble down on your head, and I’m willing to play along with the rules. I committed crimes, they got me, they were taking care of me, and I didn’t want to spend any more winters hungry. Fine. I’ll stay in prison, even if I could easily escape.”

“Of course.”

“But there are no rules, there is no prison, and they’ve forgotten about me. I’ll make my mark. I’ll carve out a place for myself, and I’ll build a citadel that makes this cute little hovel feel paltry.”