The Similars (The Similars #1)(99)
I reach in my pocket for the only saving grace I have left. The injectives I grabbed from that glass case. My fingers close around one of the syringes, and I pull it out, lunging at Gravelle. I catch his arm through his sleeve.
Surprise registers on Gravelle’s face, and I back away from him, tossing the needle aside, as Pru rushes up and grabs my hand, dragging me back toward the boat.
Gravelle grimaces. We both know the injective will affect him soon. Within moments, he’ll be transported to an alternate reality to relive every misery he’s ever faced in his life.
“Enjoy your reality—alone,” I shout over my shoulder.
“Don’t you think I’ve relived those moments every day of my life?” he responds.
I stop. “Then it won’t be hard, will it? To exit the memories? You created the technology. Surely you know how to end it. How to overcome it. How to do what I did.”
“What you did wasn’t possible,” he says, his eyes becoming unfocused. The injective is starting to work. Pru pulls again, but I put out a hand to stop her. Wait, I silently beg her. Wait.
“It was possible. But I’m not surprised someone unworthy like you has no idea how that kind of mental control works. You have to care for someone else more than yourself.”
“I am not unworthy…” he mutters, and for the first time ever, I see a man behind that scarred face. A man who has lost everything—and lashed out because of it.
Trembling, he falls, the injective rendering him helpless.
“Now!” Prudence shrieks as she ushers me to the motorboat.
“Levi,” I cry out, struggling against Pru.
“Save yourself, Emma. Please!” Ollie shouts from the safety of the boat as I fight off Prudence.
“We can’t leave him here,” I choke as I watch the guards starting to drag Levi away. Gravelle lies on the ground, his eyes closed, his body seizing. I don’t have time to wonder what he’s facing in the portal. I hope it’s as horrifying as the dogs. I hope it’s worse.
“LEVI!” I cry out again.
“Go,” Levi says in return. “Please. I’ve never asked anything of you, Emma, but I am now. Please, go.”
“But Gravelle. He’ll torture you!”
“And I’ll survive it,” Levi says. With a yank, the guards make it clear that it’s time for him to go.
“No.” I sob as Prudence pulls me away from Levi, and Oliver hoists me over the edge. Pru knows how to operate the boat—I had no idea she could do that—and within moments, we have left the shore and are headed out onto open water.
I get one last look at Levi as the guards drag him off into the compound. I have never missed a living person as much as I do now.
*
On the ferry ride home, Pru and I stand at the stern of the ship, looking out over the vast ocean. On the boat to Queen’s Harbor, Pru applied an emergency medical patch to Ollie’s bullet wound. He can have it properly cleaned and stitched when we get back. Now, he naps, his head resting on the seat next to him. The ordeal has left us all exhausted, starving, and ragged. As the adrenaline begins to drain from my body, I feel the full weight of what’s happened.
We left Levi at the compound with his guardian—a monster.
I have Oliver back, but I have lost Levi.
After a while, I go and sit next to Oliver. A piece of folded paper falls from my sweater pocket and flutters to the ground. Confused, I pick it up. This isn’t mine, or at least, I don’t remember it. I unfold it and start to read.
Dear Emmaline,
I very much enjoyed your surprise visit to my island. It tickles me beyond measure that my former roommate’s daughter has become such a valued player in both of my sons’ lives. Do tell your father that I took good care of you while you were here. He’ll be pleased to hear that.
Emma, I do not wish to disrupt your life, but it is time you learned exactly who you are.
When my brother, Albert, cloned the originals all those years ago—when DNA samples were taken from Madison, Tessa, Jake, Prudence, Archer, and Oliver and embryos were implanted in artificial wombs—there was another little girl, a sick little girl, who was cloned along with them.
Fortunately for that family, I learned early on of the child’s dire situation and was able to offer a solution: a clone. A new daughter who would look exactly like her original. One who could replace the little girl after she died, offering the girl’s widowed father a second chance at being a parent. The original little girl, the one who was not saved by experimental treatments in Europe, who, in fact, died in her father’s arms, was named Emmaline Chance. You, my dear, are her clone. Your birth certificate says Eden Gravelle. I’d be happy to send along any paperwork that will give you the assurance you need that this is the truth.
What matters now is that you understand who you are, Emmaline. Or should I say, Eden. After all, that is your given name. You were born on my island, but you didn’t grow up there. You had a more “normal” life, and I hope you appreciate that you had what the others didn’t. I’m sorry if your father couldn’t properly love you. I suppose he may have resented that you took the place of his first little girl, the daughter he adored more than life itself. Pity he couldn’t appreciate what I did for him—cloning you as a surprise gift and delivering you to the bedside of his dying daughter. I suppose you made it hard for him to love you.