I had blown it. I’d blown everything. My slip up was inexcusable—but it was shocking to hear how Kayla spoke to me exactly the same way Quinn did. Quinn and Kayla had a fire in them that was at once appealing and terrifying. I found I was never quite sure what they were thinking, or what they were capable of.

I had to destroy the security file. I couldn’t make it so easy for everyone else to figure it out—or did I? Would it truly be that hard for my bosses to connect the dots? Not in the slightest. It was obvious by one glance that the two girls were related. It was even true with Bailey. Had Quinn not been the one to show up with Bailey I would never have known which woman she belonged to. They looked so similar.

Either way, I had to do something. If I sat back and pretended the similarity didn’t exist, I could get myself in trouble, possibly being removed from the service. I couldn’t afford that.

“Dr. Morton.” A loud voice called down the corridor where I paced. “A word, please.”

I turned to face one of my bosses. Dr. Tardale. “Of course.” This wasn’t the first time I was nervous about meeting Tardale, and I was pretty certain it wouldn’t be my last.

He started down the hall, and I followed running through every scenario in my head for what he possibly wanted to talk about. He opened the door to his office. I followed.

“Close the door.” He took a seat behind his large cherry wood desk.

I nodded and closed the door.

He gestured for me to sit in a leather arm chair across from his desk. “An eventful evening, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. A new admission is always eventful.” I took a seat, trying to keep my expression as neutral as possible.

“Two new admissions in a short period of time.” He flipped through papers on his desk.

“Very rare.”

“I am sure you’ve noticed their similarities. You almost said as much when you were in admission # 216’s room.”

I mentally winced at the use of the number even though I expected it. I hated the way Tardale insisted on using numbers even if I understood the reason behind it. It actually was the reason behind the use of numbers that frustrated me the most; we made them less of a person by referring to them as a number. “Yes. I apologize. It slipped out.”

“We want the information to come from the patients. We don’t want to lead them in any way.”

“I understand. It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Are you making much progress with # 215?”

#215, also known as Quinn. “She’s opening up to me more.”

“Have you learned the paternity of the father? Based on the child’s DNA, he is not in our system, but that doesn’t surprise me considering she was brought in from the Rurals.” He screwed up his face in distaste.

“She nearly told me. I just need a bit more time.”

“And any move on the other question?” He set aside the papers, and the pretense of not caring about our conversation was gone.

I knew what he was really asking about. “Yes. I do believe she is interested.”

“Good. Make it happen soon enough. If we can prove that some of the breeders can reproduce without scientific intervention, we can show success and therefore increase funding from our donors. You were one of the first generations to come through the system. We need to find out if it worked.”

“Of course, sir.” I nodded automatically.

“She’s a beautiful girl. Both of them are.”

“Yes.” What was he getting at? He never spoke about the physical appearances of the patients, even if all of the other doctors did.

“I am merely noting it’s natural you’d be eager to participate.”

“Yes, but I would be doing it mostly to help our mission.”

“Right.” He pursed his lips. “Remember, don’t allow any emotional attachment. If it works with you, we will have to try others.”

I shuddered. The thought of anyone else touching Quinn made my skin crawl.

He sat forward in his chair. “Will that be a problem?”

I shook my head. “No sir.”

“Good. Now get back to work.” He returned to his papers.

It was easily past midnight. My work was done for the day, but I didn’t argue. “Thank you for your time, sir.” I walked out of his office and down the hall toward mine.

I collapsed on the small cot I’d set up in the corner. Tardale was right. I was getting emotionally attached. But there was nothing I could do to change that. Nothing at all.

I tried to sleep for an hour, then I gave up. I got out of bed. There was no sense lying around when sleep wasn’t coming. I headed straight for my lab, resisting the urge to check in on Quinn one more time. That wasn’t going to help my growing attachment to her.

We had a lab tech who usually ran the blood samples, but he wasn’t in for a few hours. It wouldn’t hurt for me to run the tests on Kayla’s blood myself since I was up anyway.

I grabbed a pipette, an extra test tube, and a sample of her blood and got to work. I put it into the machine and waited. I blinked. That couldn’t be right. I checked the results again, my eyes had to be deceiving me. I took another sample of her blood and ran it again. Same result. Any chance of going back to sleep was gone.