Doubting Thomas

Footsteps ran up the stairs. I clutched at my bottle. Then someone banged on my bedroom door. I jumped. “Go away,” I said. “It’s me,” said Thomas, and he was like a brother to me. He was all right. I unlocked the door. He rushed in, all out of breath, locking the door behind him. I had Sludge playing, as usual. Thomas cranked it up before cupping his hand to my ear. “It’s true,” he said, and I knew right away what he meant. I was a clone. …