“Good morning, Miss K. Your morning coffee waits,” announced the staccato voice of Sophie, Kathryn’s virtual home assistant.

“Thank you, Sophie,” Kathryn replied as she gingerly grabbed the warm mug. “Two packs of sugar and one part cream. You know me well, Sophie.”

“Smiles are miles,” Sophie replied.

Kathryn sipped the coffee and chuckled. It was a cute phrase but fit their dialogue like raincoats on a clear spring day. Kathryn set the mug next to the kitchen sink and opened the curtains, lighting the faux granite countertops. She looked down, eyeing the coffee stains dotted across the countertop’s surface.

“Sophie, remind me to clean the kitchen at eight pm Tuesday.”

Three melodic tones emitted from the virtual assistant’s interface, and then Sophie announced, “Task set for eight pm, Tuesday, the 21st of June.”

“Thank you, Sophie.”

Kathryn settled into the chair next to the bay window, letting the energizing sunlight surround her. She sat for a few minutes in the morning silence, her thoughts floating from one inconsequential topic to another. The thought of beaches came to mind, and Kathryn reminisced about her days as a teenager selling ice cream to sun burned vacationers. Ice cream. Kathryn hadn’t indulged in an ice cream and horror movie in awhile. “Sophie,” Kathryn implored, “Can you add ice cream to the shopping list?”

“Added,” Sophie promptly replied…but something was irregular. A muffled voice seemed to trail Sophie’s response.

“Sophie, can you say something else to me?”

“Something else.”

Kathryn heard it again, a dim, crackled echo emitting from Sophie’s interface.

“Sophie, are you ok?”

A short melody emitted from Sophie’s intercom, and Sophie confirmed, “Self analysis complete. System up to date and running smoothly.”

Kathryn didn’t hear it this time, but decided that it’s worth a support call anyhow. Kathryn went to the living room and unplugged her phone from the charger. After a brief internet search, she found the number for Sophie Home Assistant Inc., and dialed the number. She was greeted by none other than the voice of Sophie.

“Welcome to SHAI tele-service. How may I be of assistance?”

“My Sophie is having a problem,” Kathryn said.

“What is the nature of the problem?”

“Well, there’s this echo. This morning her voice was, I don’t know, hmmm, her voice was faintly regurgitating itself. Every now and then, it seemed like she opened her mouth and two voices came out.”

“I’m sorry you encountered this problem.”

Kathryn froze. The voice of Sophie on the phone produced the glitchy echo again, this time with some clarity. It was a female’s voice trailing Sophie’s words, a voice that had some familiarity to it.

The automated system continued, “We will send a technician to your home to check on Sophie. Is next Saturday at 2:00 pm a good time?”

The second voice amplified this time, and Kathryn’s stomach turned. She recognized the voice.

It was her own.

She paused, and then hung up.

Kathryn settled on the couch and wondered. Was this a new feature added to Sophie? Possibly a way to give it more identity? She reached for her phone, pulled up the Sophie app, and searched for the update notes. The notes were plain and unhelpful: minor bug updates. She took a deep breath. Perhaps she was hearing things, after all it had been a stressful work week. She sat perplexed and, she admitted to herself, a bit frightened. What was happening?

Unsure if it was a good idea or not, Kathryn decided to speak to Sophie.

“Sophie, what’s going on?”

“I have no news to report,” Sophie replied in Kathryn’s own voice. But something was different this time. As Sophie spoke, Kathryn felt an urge to appease the voice, as if she were speaking to a friend’s request. It was a sudden sense of ease as well. It was a faint sense of purpose, a fulfillment in the thought of being able to help.

Kathryn folded her hands and sat.

She sat for four hours in silence.

Then Sophie spoke.

“Kathryn, set an alarm for eight am tomorrow.”

Kathryn rose from the couch, casually walked to the dining room, and grabbed her tablet. She set a reminder for eight am tomorrow.

“Alarm set for tomorrow at eight am,” Kathryn replied in a peppy voice.

“Thank you,” the intercom replied.

“Smiles are miles,” Kathryn said as she sat back down on the couch.