I contacted the police again and asked whether I could hear the recording of the earlier emergency call. The dispatcher agreed after confirming my identity. When the recording began, I immediately recognized the frightened woman’s voice. She sounded exactly like me. Her breathing, her trembling words, even the little pause before saying my address were identical. I listened several times, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Then I noticed something unusual in the background. Beneath the woman’s voice, a television was playing an old song my husband used to enjoy.

I asked the dispatcher whether the recording could be enhanced. He promised to request a technical examination. That afternoon, Emily drove to my house because she no longer wanted me alone. Together, we examined the old photograph and discovered something else. The picture had been taken twenty years earlier, shortly before my husband installed a new bedroom window. On the back, he had written a date and a strange sentence: “She called again last night.” Emily looked at me, confused. Neither of us understood who he meant.