No more telling me what to do. No more telling anyone. No more Sleepers, arise! We Gardiners awake when we want. Jay’s played out the fantasy a hundred times. He’ll never get to live it: Mitt’s suicide finished off any dreams of triumph. It wasn’t enough that Jay had to live according to Mitt’s design. Now he’s got to die like Mitt wants, too. “You always wanted to be the big man. Well, you got it. Sixty tons.”
