Chapter 15 - THE ORIGINAL PROFILE
Elena returned to the house alone.
Police had cleared the property, replaced the damaged security system, and sealed the underground archive room.
Noah’s belongings had been boxed and removed.
The bedroom no longer contained the false passport, divorce documents, or open jewelry box.
The framed wedding photograph remained on the table.
Elena turned it facedown.
She entered her study and placed the phone beside the computer.
The dating profile displayed her photograph.
The name had changed.
It no longer said Eleanor.
It said Celeste.
The account showed one active conversation.
The recipient was Elena.
A message appeared.
YOU RESTORED THE WOMEN VICTOR ERASED.
Elena typed:
WHO ARE YOU?
The answer came immediately.
THE PERSON YOUR MOTHER FAILED TO COPY.
Elena looked toward the study door.
The house was silent.
She typed again.
ARE YOU ECHO?
The profile responded:
ECHO IS WHAT BELLWEATHER CALLED THE COPY.
I AM THE WOMAN WHO CAME BEFORE HER.
A video call appeared.
Elena hesitated, then answered.
The screen remained dark for several seconds.
A lamp turned on.
A woman sat inside a room Elena did not recognize.
She appeared to be in her late sixties.
Silver hair framed her face.
She wore Celeste’s wedding ring.
For one impossible moment, Elena thought she was looking at Marianne.
Then the woman lifted her head.
Her eyes were Celeste’s.
Not similar.
The same.
The woman smiled.
“You found my sister,” she said.
Elena gripped the edge of the desk.
“Marianne?”
The woman laughed softly.
“The woman at the hotel has used that name for many years. It was never hers.”
“Who is she?”
“That depends on which records you believe.”
“Are you my mother?”
The woman’s expression became almost tender.
“I am one of them.”
Elena felt anger push through the fear.
“No more riddles. Tell me your name.”
“My original name was Marianne Mercer.”
Elena stood.
“The woman at the hotel claimed she was Marianne.”
“She was trained to.”
“Is she Bellweather’s Echo?”
“No.”
“Is Eleanor?”
“No.”
“Then who is Echo?”
The woman leaned toward the camera.
“You are still assuming Echo is one person.”
A file appeared on Elena’s computer.
It contained photographs taken throughout her childhood.
Celeste at school events.
Celeste at birthdays.
Celeste sitting beside Elena in the hospital.
In some photographs, Celeste wore her wedding ring on her left hand.
In others, she wore it on her right.
One woman had a small mark beside her mouth.
The other did not.
Elena realized the truth slowly.
More than one woman had raised her.
The person she called Mother had sometimes been Celeste.
Sometimes Marianne.
And perhaps sometimes someone else.
The woman on the screen continued.
“Bellweather did not begin by copying children. It began with us.”
“Twin sisters.”
“Celeste and I were the first successful profiles. Our father believed identical daughters could share one public life.”
“Which one became my mother?”
“Both of us carried children.”
Elena stopped breathing.
“Both?”
“Celeste gave birth at St. Catherine’s. I gave birth eleven minutes later in a private Bellweather clinic.”
“How many babies were born?”
The woman looked away.
“That is the question Victor never answered correctly.”
Elena opened the file.
Four hospital bracelets appeared on the screen.
ELENA GRACE MERCER.
ELEANOR CELESTE MERCER.
CAMILLE MERCER.
The fourth bracelet had no first name.
Its patient field contained only one word.
ECHO.
A new message appeared beneath the image.
PROFILE STATUS: ACTIVE.
Elena returned her attention to the video.
“Where is the fourth child?”
The woman’s face filled the screen.
“She has spent thirty-eight years believing she is you.”
“Eleanor?”
“No.”
“Camille?”
“No.”
Elena’s phone began ringing.
The caller identification showed her own name.
At the same moment, the front door alarm sounded.
Someone had entered the house using Elena’s new security code.
The woman on the video whispered, “Do not let her see the photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“The one Noah turned facedown.”
Elena looked toward the bedroom.
Footsteps moved through the hallway upstairs.
Slow.
Familiar.
The same rhythm as Elena’s own steps.
She left the study and approached the staircase.
A woman stood at the top.
She had Elena’s face, Elena’s hair, and Elena’s clothing.
In her hand was the framed wedding photograph.
She turned it over and removed a second photograph hidden behind Noah and Elena’s wedding portrait.
It showed four newborn babies lying side by side.
The woman looked down at Elena.
“You finally opened the wrong archive,” she said.
Elena’s phone vibrated.
One last message appeared from the second profile.
DO NOT TRUST THE WOMAN WHO CALLS HERSELF ELENA.
Elena raised her eyes.
The woman at the top of the stairs smiled.
May you like
Then she spoke in Celeste’s voice.
“Which one of us do you think the warning means?”
