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HARDCASTLE: It sure as hell sounded like that was what happened. So which one did we bring over with us? Because that’s the double.

NOVAK: I don’t know, Will. I can’t be sure.

She keeps her back to him and her head down. She zips the girls’ jackets back up, adjusts their collars. Tugs Sophia [2]’s sleeve down more firmly toward her wrist.

Carreau has been humming softly. Kapoor glares at him.

HARDCASTLE: It’s bad enough having to listen to it. Do you have to sing along?

SOPHIA: It’s coming from down.

KAPOOR: She’s right. It’s coming from below us. I’m going to check it out.

HARDCASTLE: No one goes off alone.

KAPOOR: Then come with me.

NOVAK: No. If we go anywhere, we all go together. No more being out of each other’s sight. Period.

Hardcastle nods.

HARDCASTLE: Bring the camera. Our memories aren’t reliable. Maybe it can help.

24

WE WALKED TOMikhail’s house. We weren’t his only visitors, it turned out. Mrs. Popova’s truck was out front.They know each other, I thought, and then realized how ridiculous that was.

They were arguing inside, but I didn’t understand the language—Russian, I assumed. When the front step creaked beneath me, the voices ceased. Instead of knocking, I cleared my throat. “Mikhail?” I called.

Clomping footsteps, and then the door opened. “You should not be here,” he said. Mrs. Popova stood behind him, face pinched in a displeased expression and sweater wrapped tight around herself.

“You didn’t tell us everything,” I said.

“Yes. Because I want you to leave. Go away and be safe,” Mikhail said, scowling at us.

“Let them in, Misha,” Mrs. Popova said. “They aren’t going tolet go of this, and the girl deserves the truth. Don’t you think?”

“Truth is overrated,” Mikhail muttered, but he waved us in. I stopped in the middle of the room and stared down the two adults.

“You knew about her. Both of you. She has one of Mikhail’s carvings. You gave it to her, didn’t you?” I held out my own carving, the little tern with its upward-swept wings. Mikhail took it from me gingerly, turning it over in his hands. “You gave this one to my mother. You gave others to the echo.”

“Sophie,” he said.

“What?”

“That’s what she calls herself,” Mrs. Popova said. “Not Sophia, Sophie. You left. She didn’t. Of course we know about her.” She waved at the table. “Sit down.”

I glanced at Liam, but he seemed to be happy letting me take the lead. I had imagined this as more of an interrogation, but I took the offered chair and Mrs. Popova folded her hands on the tabletop.

“Ask what you need to ask,” she said.

“What is Sophie?” I asked. “Is she like the other echoes?”

“No. She’s different, but we don’t know why.”

“We take care of her,” Mikhail added.

“Who’s we?” I asked. “Dr. Hardcastle too?”