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The man in the grown-up jammies sat in another chair to observe, his knees only a couple of inches from Stephen’s. “I’m sorry, Thomas. We’d usually wait longer before it came to this,” Randall said. He sounded nicer than he had back in the hallway and in Stephen’s room. “We’d give you some more time to choose to take your new name voluntarily, like Teresa did. ” He held up a tiny piece of shiny silver, one end rounded, the other tapered to a razor-sharp point. “Don’t move,” Randall said, leaning forward as if he were going to whisper something into Stephen’s ear.

Stephen wasn’t stupid—he’d just pretend for now. “Thomas. ” “I don’t believe you,” Randall responded, his eyes pools of darkness. ” Stephen opened his mouth to answer, but Randall hadn’t been speaking to him. The pain came back, harder and faster. He barely had time to register the agony before he passed out. ” Stephen could barely speak. ” He whimpered. The pain was no longer a surprise, nor was the darkness that came after. ” He cried, trembling with sobs. ” “No. ” “No. ” “Will you ever forget your name?

Stephen had no response, as he was busy wondering where they were going. They stepped onto the elevator when it chimed and the doors opened. — Stephen sat in a strange chair, its various built-in instruments pressing into his legs and back. Wireless sensors, each barely the size of a fingernail, were attached to his temples, his neck, his wrists, the crooks of his elbows, and his chest. He watched the console next to him as it collected data, chirping and beeping. The man in the grown-up jammies sat in another chair to observe, his knees only a couple of inches from Stephen’s.