The leather seat beneath me smells faintly of mildew, but I can't seem to bring myself to get up to escape it. A heavy, cloying lethargy has settled around me, from the moment I walked away from the train, from my friends.

From Beckett.

My clone sister, Duet, hums softly to herself, almost bouncing she's so happy as she toys with the engine of the SUV in which I now sit. My head will barely lift from the padded rest, eyes heavy, heartbeat slowed so much I can barely ...