West

But without knowing what happened to the other girls - and real-Josie - turning off the brain chip was the third most foolish decision I'd made when it came to Carter. Not to mention that trying to figure out what he wanted with Taylor, or what lengths he'd go to in order to influence the man I was about to spend the rest of my life with, scared me.

First things first - what Carter wanted or did wasn't going to matter, if I died in this house like real-Josie and the three imposters sent back in time. I had to survive that threat, the mysterious third agent sent back by Taylor's agency, and then I could deal with Carter's insanity.

I'm going to find out what happened to Josie first, I replied to him. I hid my phone in the folded clothing on my bed belonging to Taylor. It was the first time I willingly gave up the phone, but holding it was infuriating me. I wanted distance between Carter and me, and I didn't care if that pissed him off.

I left my room, finally ready and determined to confront the source of the whispers, and the truth about real-Josie, that lingered at the end of the hallway.

Today was the perfect day for more bad news. I was no longer trying to look only at the good in the world around me. Carter's betrayal and the fates of the women who came before me had stretched me to my limit, and I was going to dive further into the darkness to find the final pieces of the puzzle. Feeling a little reckless, a little raw, I checked to make sure Nell wasn't lingering and then started towards the door.

The whispers grew stronger, the images starting to form. I tried the doorknob. Finding it unlocked, I slid inside and looked around. The furniture in the large room was covered with white sheets. It resembled mine, from the familiar wallpaper to the rugs and drapes covered with the exact same stitching. The layout was a mirror copy of mine as well.

In fact, everything was.

"Okay. Weird."

I lifted the sheet off the table near the dead hearth. I had a tray just like the one on its top. Walking to the vanity, I lifted the sheet to see the exact same items organized the exact same way as they were on my vanity. The air of the room was heavy and smelled of must, the memories waiting for me to close my eyes and admit them. Like the well, the visions were harder to capture than those from a person, as if there had to be enough energy lingering in the surroundings to release the memories.