Chapter 5

I stared at the face on the screen. A cold wave traveled down my spine. This was not a simple imitation. This was a perfect duplication.

"That is uncanny," the young officer beside me said. "Like staring into a mirror."

Carter paused the video and enlarged the image near her wrist. "Look at this."

Her sleeve had slipped upward, revealing a faint tattoo on her inner wrist. The design appeared washed out, like a black flower in decay.

"I do not have a tattoo," I said at once.

"Precisely," Carter said, releasing a breath. "A point of difference. This confirms she is not you. She is someone who has altered herself deliberately to become your double."

My thoughts spun. Who would go to such lengths to resemble an ordinary office worker?

"We traced the payment," Carter continued. "She used your bank card linked to your mobile wallet.

"To set that up, she needed your phone, your identification number, your physical card, and your payment code. She holds access to nearly everything that defines you."

Fear wrapped around me, snug as a tightening net.

Someone who knew every detail of my existence, and who wore my face. What did she want? Was she trying to replace me?

"Carter, is there any way to trace the origin of that tattoo?" I asked.

"It is very difficult. The mark is small and faded. There is little to work with.

"We will circulate a high‑resolution image to all precincts for comparison. Perhaps someone will recognize her."

He turned to me, his gaze sharp. "But you must provide something more essential.

"Grace, think carefully. Has there ever been a person in your life who might wish you harm?

"Someone who knows you intimately. Perhaps obsessively.

"We are already examining your former boyfriend, Michael Stone. But is there anyone else?"

Faces drifted through my mind. Classmates. Friends. Coworkers across the years. None of them fit.

My life had always been uncomplicated. I carried no lasting resentments toward anyone.

Who could it be? Why did they choose me?

Then a forgotten memory stirred. Something buried for years rose to the surface.

It was from the early days with Michael. He had displayed an unusual, almost hungry curiosity about me.

He wanted to know everything. My childhood. The city where I grew up. The elementary school I attended. The names of my childhood playmates.

At the time, I believed it was affection. Maybe he was a partner eager to understand every part of me.

But looking back now, that depth of questioning felt excessive. It was beyond normal interest.

"I need to return home," I told Carter. "Not my apartment. My parents' old house. I want to search through some belongings. Perhaps something will surface."

Carter considered this and nodded. "Very well. We will send someone with you.

"Until we identify this person, your safety is the priority."

I sat in the police car, heading toward the town I had not visited in years.

Familiar streets rolled past the window. A hazy childhood memory, long pressed down, began to push upward. It grew sharper by the mile.

I recalled a summer afternoon. In the backyard of my parents' house, I was playing hide‑and‑seek with another little girl.

She looked exactly like me.

*****

Two hours later, the police car stopped before my parents' old house.

It was a two‑story home with a small yard, tucked deep within the aging neighborhood. The air smelled of dust and dying leaves.

The young officer, Zach Green, accompanied me inside.

I turned the rusted key in the lock. The door swung open and released a gust of stale, musty air. White sheets draped every piece of furniture. The house lay silent, like a sleeping creature.

"What are you searching for?" Zach asked.

"Photo albums. All of them from my childhood."

I climbed the stairs directly and opened the door to my former bedroom. Everything remained as I had left it the day I departed for university.

I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside sat dozens of thick albums, arranged in neat rows.

I spread them across the floor and began to turn the pages, one after another.

Zach stood nearby, photographing anything that seemed unusual with his phone.