Gabi, as usual, was cackling in your ear about some cute guy she’d met—James Foster, a struggling novelist whose only claim to publication was his connection to his wife’s father. She was toying with the idea of bringing him into the group, introducing him to the ways of the doppelgänger. After all, he had the money. You rolled your eyes. Gabi had always been like this—especially when it came to men, ones she fancied over Alban, her own husband. You stayed in your room the night she and Alban went out with James and his wife. Later, she came back, brimming with excitement about how they’d hit a man with their car, how James would face trial for drunk driving, and how she might induct him into the group. You rolled your eyes as Gabi laughed, as she always did. She was a madwoman, God bless her. You never cared for the rituals she was so obsessed with. You were only here to escape the city. It wasn’t until you met James, the day after his initiation into the Infinity Pool, that your eyes widened. Big, blond, buff, and strikingly beautiful—he was perfect. From the way he spoke about her, it was obvious he had grown weary of his wife. After all, he had only married her to cozy up to her father. Sad, really, what ambition could compel someone to do. But then again, you were very ambitious. Gabi whispered words of malevolence into one of his ears, while you whispered warnings into the other: "Get out," "Run," "Leave us." He was such a sweet soul—cocky and arrogant, perhaps, but not an evil man. He didn’t belong in the group. Time and again, you found yourself urging him, in hushed tones, to take his wife and leave Li Tolqa. Yet, he stayed. And still, you warned him. Over and over. Eventually, you came across him, brooding. He seemed more annoyed than heartbroken when he gave you the news: "Em left Li Tolqa... and me."