Addam tells me this circle of palm trees is my favourite place. I lay under them for hours, willing myself to love the leather-skinned trunks and spiky fronds. This section of our bio-dome, far from the tiny house, allows me a moment's escape from his constant watch.

 

I close my eyes against the glare of the sun through glass, wishing I loved these trees, my husband, this life.

 

“Lark!” Addam interrupts my thoughts like an unwelcome houseguest. I scramble to my feet before he arrives to escort me home.

 

“Let’s check the birds,” he says.

He doesn’t let go of my hand until we reach the aviary. My stomach clenches when his meaty fingers lace through mine.

 

“The zebra finches are your favourite.” Addam points to the black-and-white stripes circling their tiny heads. “With a name like Lark, you were destined to be a bird lover.”

He points out cockatiels, parakeets, and hummingbirds. The flapping and chirping make my heart race, and I feign a headache, leaving him to fill the bird feeders alone.

 

He won’t permit me to go to the dome’s east side. He claims the place where I hit my head is too dangerous. The need to see where my memories were stolen overwhelms me. I slip out of bed once his breathing changes to the rhythmic snores I cherish. It has been another night of turning myself to steel as his hands roamed my body while whispering all the ways we’ve loved each other and reminded me how much I desired him, begging me to remember.

 

Knowing he’ll wake soon and reach for me again, I sprint down the east path. Dim green lights appear through the salal thickets. Pushing forward, I emerge into a small clearing of humming generators, oxygen tanks, and mysterious equipment. Dozens of glass cylinders lie on a long platform.

Peering through the first pod, I meet my own hazel eyes. I gasp. She’s me. Down to an identical spray of freckles across the nose. A trickle of blood from her left ear has dried to a black line on her cheek.

 

I wipe a layer of dust off the next pod. Again, I’m there. My eyes are closed this time, a gaping black hole where the front of my skull should be.

 

Bile rises in my throat, and I vomit onto the ruddy bricks.

 

“I warned you.” Addam presses his fingers into my shoulder, turning me to face him.

 

“Who are they?” I wipe my mouth and back away from him.

 

Addam’s voice catches, words tumbling out with racking sobs. “I couldn’t go on without you.”

 

My blood runs cold with realization. “I’m not Lark.”

 

“You are! I get closer and closer with each one,” Addam roughly clasps my hands. “You only need more time. You’ll love me too.”

 

“Never!” I pick up a loose brick, but Addam grabs it from my hand. Tears spill down his cheeks as he raises it above my head.

 

Maybe the next Lark will be stronger.