"And, by whatever means you might have been created, it wasn't for a clone substitution plot targeted at your original. Because she has been dead for two centuries."
She goes back to the door and opens it. Not quite leaning through, she calls, "C'mere, I found a weird and potentially useful thing!"
"Is it weirder and more potentially useful than the furball?" calls back a voice.
Blink.
"...It's a magic mirror? With really good aesthetic taste?" she guesses.
"It's an interdimensional bar, I'm you from an alternate universe, come in, come in."
Bella comes in. "If you're me from an alternate universe..."
Linya hands her the napkin with the dense explanation of door mechanics on it.
"Apparently all the short boys are me," Solvei mentions, "except for that one," she gestures to Mark, "who's apparently Sis. And they kept asking me intrusive personal questions I don't want to answer. Maybe yours will be better behaved."
"I will ask you plenty of personal questions, but I think you will mind less. It's a pity you missed the other two of us."
"They also claim to have varyingly portable magic. I'm not sure how much I trust them."
"...Well, how me are you? For example, is your name also Isabella Marie Swan, because if it is we have to think of something else."
She is your alt.
"- thank you, Bar, then you don't have to trust me much at all, I'll just trust you instead, how does that sound?"
"...Sounds good. And me-ish. I dunno, Solvei, someone would have to be trying really hard to fuck with us like so, wouldn't they?"
"Okay, yes, they would," says Solvei. "And Mark seems very keen to help me solve my problems. Cheer up, Mark, it's not as bad as all that."
"...From my outside view, I can only conclude that it's worse," says Mark. "What's happening to you?"