Shiny brass doors and gilded pillars adorned the bottom floor of the apartment, and the clacking of Sara's heels echoed on the marble tiles. She whispered to Nan, "I think with that cat and this apartment, I must've been rich back then."

"Maybe you were," they shrugged back before leading Sara to the receptionist. "Excuse me, Julia," Nan read her name tag. "Did you ever have a tenant named Sara Jean Whittaker?"

"Hm, long time ago," the pale, thin woman replied absentmindedly. Her voice was decades older than her face. "Jean Whittaker? I remember him. Why do you ask?"

Nan gestured to Sara. "Here she is now. We were wondering if you could give us any information about Sara's time at Plessy."

Julia grumbled as she looked at the old ID, the documents on the screen before her, and the new Sara. "Boy, do you look different! Shrank two and a half feet and sprouted neon pink hair." They scowled at each other. "You sure you were called 'Jean' back then, and it's not this hairy tall fellow next to you?"

"My name's still Jean," Sara shot back, showing her current ID alongside the old one. The name and birthdate were the same. "I just want to know what happened to any items I might have left here." Sara held up the photo of the cat to the glass. "Is this the inside of one of the apartment rooms?" she asked.

"You still have that manly temper of yours!" Julia guffawed at her own 'joke'. "Just a moment," the woman grumbled through lipstick-stained white teeth, pulling up old records. "Oh, we still have that cat in the same room where you left her. I've had to watch that little brat a few times. She's a joy to be around, but she's so sassy and demanding."

"When did I leave this place?" Sara asked. Nan jotted down everything on her notepad. "I have amnesia from a health incident."

The woman swayed in her chair. "It must have been 16, maybe 17 years ago? It's an old cat. Geriatric!" The woman cackled. "I'll call the new owner and ask if you can see her again."

Sara squinted at the receptionist. "Thanks for taking care of her," she muttered with a deeply sarcastic tone. Oops... I didn't meant to lay it on that thick.

"Took you long enough to come back for your pet," Julia grumbled through a smile as she waited for the call to go through. "Hey, Tally? Oh, you're at work. Is your son home? ... Yeah, Tinkerbell's old owner wants to stop by and say hi. Alright." Julia turned back to Nan and Sara. "Room 704. You're welcome."

Sara didn't feel thankful after that exchange, but any glimpse into her past was appreciated. The two headed upstairs as quickly as they could.

Nan rubbed Sara's back as they rode the elevator upstairs. "I hope the tenant isn't as rude as Julia."

"I hope," Sara repeated. She grew tense, recognizing the patterns in the carpet. "This is the place," her voice trembled.

After Nan's knock at the door, a gruff, "Who is it?" startled them.

"I'm Nan, and this is my friend Sara."

"I used to live in your apartment and own the cat known as Tinkerbell," Sara explained. "I'm trying to piece together my past." She held up the picture of the cat to the peephole.

"Come in," the massive man greeted them through the zigzag gap in his aesthetic mask. He was easily a whole ton of fat, muscle, and machine. His head, tiny in comparison, was covered in little more than a short mohawk.

"Thanks for letting us in," the mouse peeped, terrified. They glanced at Sara with an anxious smile.

"You're welcome," he growled softly, closing the front door with the softest click.

"What can we call you?" Sara asked.

He became still. "You can call me...call me Jim," he decided. Nan was convinced that he was lying, but Sara didn't give it a second thought.

"Nice to meet you Jim," Sara said, extending her hand. He was hesitant to shake the dainty little thing within his metal mitt, but obliged her. Sara was surprised to feel a normal-sized hand meet hers as the hulking gauntlet folded away. Nan settled for awkward glances. The small hand retracted back into the metal palm, and the large external fingers folded back into place.

"Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" Jim offered.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Water would be nice," Nan nodded.

"Nothing for me, thanks," Sara whispered, settling into the couch. "This all feels familiar," she noticed, feeling the worn leather beneath her palms and dress. A finger trailed along the armrest. "I feel like a kid at grandma's house," she chuckled. She was whisked away by visions of that tall brown-haired person she used to be looking out the window with a short, black-haired man. "Nan, there was a wonderful man I used to live with, before... before..." She tried to finish her thought, but found it impossible to speak another true word. "I don't know, before something."

"Tinky, come out," the man whistled from the kitchen with a couple of glasses of water. He handed one to Nan. As he squatted into the seat across from them, a fluffy white cat strutted into the room with a tall tail to greet the strangers. "She's sweet," he commented. "She likes new people, so don't be afraid to pet her."

Nan's fear of Jim shifted to concerns about long white fur sticking to their dark stockings and Sara's black velvet dress. The fluffball cautiously sniffed each of their feet and gave a raspy meow before jumping onto the cushion between them. Sara rubbed the cat's silky soft chin and smiled. "I'm sorry I couldn't take care of you," she told Tinkerbell. "I can't believe I named you that either." The cat crawled into Nan's lap and meowed, demanding their attention.

"Oh," Jim cleared his throat. "You didn't name her that. She was called Mountain Mama. She was renamed once we moved in."

"What else happened?" Sara asked. "Did I leave anything here before you moved in?"

"Furniture, clothes, a broken PC, no personal documents. And the cat." He took a towel from his back pocket and dried his forehead. "A long time ago, we tried calling you. The number on the tag was for a physical only cell that you left behind. Took her to the vet, and the chip led us to some guy across town who would hang up on us." Jim closed his eyes to better envision the moment. "Went knocking on his door once; he had his address listed. Knew it was him since his mother recognized the cat. He didn't come out but she said he was home. I saw him peep through the window."

"What did he look like?" Sara asked, trying to remember that guy she used to share coffee with every morning at the exact table they sat around.

"I don't remember. It was a long time ago. My mother knows more, but she's at work right now. I can give you our contact info," he suggested reluctantly.

"Sure, I'd appreciate that," Sara smiled and nodded. "I've missed this place. It's different, but I can sort of see it now." The walls were repainted, and metal posters for musicals hung on them. A few photos of Tinkerbell and Jim's relatives sat on a table around a vase full of old roses. "Mind if I take a look around?"

"You can see the kitchen," Jim said, silently rising from his seat. "Did you want to look around too, Nan?"

They shook their head. "No thanks. I'm grounded right now," they grimaced. Their ears twitched indecisively as they ran their fingers through a purring Tinkerbell's satin fur.

"Sorry, I'm not used to guests," Jim chuckled. "And I don't let anyone into my room."

"I understand. That's perfectly fine by me," Sara sighed between stretches. Jim didn't think he could become any more flustered. "I do like this color on the walls," Sara commented. "Olive green, but not too strong. I think they were plain white when I lived here."

"Um, that's right. They were," Jim stammered. "That shelf you're looking at used to have plants in it, and it was in the corner by the window. We don't have the plants anymore."

"Plants, huh?" Sara muttered. Flashes of pink polkadot plants, pothos, and prayer plants raced through her mind as she examined the patterns in the wood. Her mind used to wander staring at the shelf and its contents every mid-afternoon. "They were cute little plants. I remember one had purple flowers, a long time ago. My boyfriend would never water them," she chuckled. Damn, what was his name? It felt like it was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't find it.

"Great remembering," Nan encouraged and wrote down their observations. "How about the window view?"

Sara took a moment to gaze outside. The sky was bright gray with a thin yet impenetrable layer of clouds. "I remember the building across the street. One of my friends lived there. We'd see each other in the window sometimes. But most nights I'd just enjoy the lights from the city. I was lonely then." Sorrow started to weigh in her chest. "Even with Todd around, sometimes." Tinkerbell crawled off of Nan and nudged Sara's leg with her fuzzy face. "Hello, Mountain Mama," Sara whispered to the cat. She stroked its warm back and exhaled. "This is a lot to take in. Jim, can I come back another time?"

He scratched his head with gentle precision. "Sure. If you give me your phone I can give you my contact info." All Sara needed to do was hold her purse up to Jim's fist. The phone within picked up the number, email, and physical address in an instant.

"Thank you for your help." The two exchanged polite smiles, though both were painfully aware of their mutual discomfort. "I know it's awkward, and the circumstances are strange, so I really appreciate you letting me and my friend in to chat."

"It's okay," the giant said, opening the door for Nan and Sara. "I can handle strange. I'm just not used to people at my home."

As Sara and Nan entered the hallway, Tinkerbell started meowing.

"Oh, no, Tinkerbell. You have to stay," Nan sang in a baby voice. "We'll be back later." They were immediately embarrassed.

"She can follow you out," Jim said as the cat came out to rub her face on Nan and Sara's legs. "She's allowed to roam the building. As long as she's indoors it's fine."

Sara contemplated the meaning of it all as they walked to the elevator. The winding carpet was woven with a long story she couldn't quite piece together: a hairy boyfriend, gift plants, new furniture, a fancy cat, a friend who lived across the street. It was a whole life that she left behind. But part of her didn't feel like she could have left them of her own volition. There was something very ugly and despicable about what happened. What if it's me? What if who I am is the root of this all? Her knees wobbled as the elevator descended. "I don't think I should look into my past anymore," she whispered to Nan.