Tayo stared. His mouth was dry. The world felt too bright, too sharp. He saw Adam, but his mind screamed that it was a trick. A ghost. A nightmare.
"You're not him," Tayo said, his voice cracking. "He's dead. We buried him."
Adam looked around the office. He walked over to the large desk and ran a finger along its polished surface. "You always liked nice things, Tayo. Even back when we were sharing one-room apartments and eating cold beans."
That voice. That casual, almost bored tone. It was him.
Tayo's legs felt weak. He grabbed the edge of the glass wall to steady himself. "What is this? Some kind of… clone? A look-alike? Who sent you?"
Adam didn't answer. He picked up a small, expensive-looking paperweight from the desk—a crystal lion. He weighed it in his hand.
"You sold my crew," Adam said, still not looking at him. "My people. To the same government that tried to wipe us off the map a dozen times. You made them into… security guards. For politicians."
