Nora~~

We don't have any difficulties following the directions Marcella gave Radia to reach her apartment. The street signs are all visibly placed, and we don't have to make any turns.

         "You really remember nothing?" Radia asks as we pass a food cart, the scent of spice heavy in the air.

         "Only a few things. And none are memories."

         She chews on her lip, looking at me for a moment before peeling her gaze away. Whatever they land on causes her to stop in the middle of the sidewalk. A woman side steps around her with a grumble.

         Radia doesn't move.

         I place a hesitant hand on her shoulder as I try to follow her line of sight, but in the possible lines there are three businesses, two cars, and clusters of people. I drop my hand.

         She releases a breath, and her hand slips down and grasps mine.

         "Let's go," she says and tugs me forward.

         Three blocks later, she releases my hand to peer down at the map, a little too intently. That look she had, the sound of that breath . . . there was recognition there.

         "What did you see?"

         Eyes flicking between the paper and the street signs, she shrugs. "I just thought I saw something." She starts walking, continuing straight down the sidewalk as if there was never any confusion for her about which way to go.

         Keeping pace with her, I want to press her for more information, but she's clearly not ready to speak about it.

         After one more block she turns to the cross street and points. A white skyscraper rises into the sky as if it were crystal in a cavern, reflecting pinks and greens that seem to shimmer in the air around it.

         Radia folds up the map. "I don't remember much, but I know living in a place like that shouldn't be free."

         Once we're inside the building, Radia collects her key from the front desk before we board an elevator and ride it to her floor.

         To the left and right, doors line the hallways and after she consults a numbered sign in front of us, she leads us to the right.

         There's a sense of familiarity here. I've been in an apartment building before or a . . . hotel. A hotel is like this. But what was I doing in those places? Why are they only facts in my head and not memories?

         Radia stops in front of a door and swipes her key in front of a sensor. The door slides open revealing a dark room, but once she steps inside, light fills the small hallway we find ourselves in and spreads into a living room with white furniture. The walls behind the couches are windows that look out on Somnia. I haven't seen a clock but with the position the sun was in overhead while we were walking, I'd say it's about noon. The sun shines down onto the roofs of Somnia's buildings as if the light were rippling across a lake. I can't imagine what it's like at night when all the lights come on and turn into stars.

         Radia makes sure her door locks before throwing herself onto the longest of the two couches.

         Stars. The thought brings a smile to my lips as if my body is experiencing a memory that I'm not. I know what they are though. And I know they're spectacular. 

         "What did you think you saw?"

         She grips a throw pillow and tugs it against her chest as she stares up at the ceiling. "I thought someone might have looked familiar. But then when he caught me looking at him, he gave me such an ugly look that I knew I had made a mistake." Her fingers knead the pillow. "I just wish I could get that look of anger out of my head." She takes a deep breath, the pillow rising with her chest as she does so. "I don't know where home is, but I want to go there. I can't get rid of this feeling that this isn't permanent, that I have a somewhere else."

         I pull out a barstool from the counter and sit down. A part of me wishes she had pursued him, asked him who he was. Asked if he knew her. Because if he had said yes, couldn't that mean there's someone out there on those streets that might know me? It's a selfish thought to wish she had, though. Who knows what he might have done?

         "I know you're eager to see your own home, but could you stay, just a little longer?" She rolls onto her side. "All my memories are tied to you. You're the closest thing I have . . ."

         "To home?"

         "Yes."

         Whatever has happened to us, we're going through this together. I don't trust her yet, but we are connected.

         "Don't worry. I feel the same way. I'll stay."

         My stomach grumbles bringing forth a slight ache there. "Since they gave us free homes, any chance you think they might have surprised you with food to get you started?"

         Sitting up, she sets the pillow aside and stands. "Let's hope."

          She checks the kitchen, starting with the fridge, but when that proves empty, she moves onto the cabinets, leaving each one open as she goes. Nothing. No food. But plenty of utensils and cooking supplies.

         She steps away from the last cabinet, scratching her cheek. "I guess this means we'll have to find a job."

         My stomach growls again. Who knows how long finding a job will take?

         There's a knock on the door, and both Radia and I tense. 

         "Miss Dacy?" a masculine voice calls, loud enough to be heard but definitely not threatening.

         We stare at each other.

         "My name's Tye," the voice continues. "I'm one of your neighbors. I have food." The last part sounds more like a question than a statement.

         Despite the offer of food, neither of us make a move toward the door.

"Why don't I"—Radia opens up a drawer and pulls out a knife—"take this and hide while you answer the door? He tries anything . . ." She mimics a stabbing motion.

         Wary more of her at the moment than this Tye, I make my way to the door. "Don't use that thing unless you're sure." I wave my hand over a sensor, and the door slides open, revealing a boy around my age. Black hair brushes over thick eyebrows. His hair isn't messy nor is it tidy. Rather it looks like he tried combing it down with his fingers. His skin is a warm bronze, and he's dressed in black pants and a thin gray t-shirt that's slightly wrinkled. Hanging from one of his hands, is a brown paper bag that has grease patches. The smell of fries and oil drifts up from it.

         "Radia?" he asks.

         "I'm Nora actually."

         He tries to look around me. "Is she here? I was told there were two of you."

         A chill creeps up my back. "Who told you that?"

         He scratches the back of his head, looking sheepish. "I work for the city, and when I heard I was getting a new neighbor, I wanted to do something nice." He holds up the bag. "I picked this up on my way home. I know what it's like when you first get here."

         I relax a tad but not enough. "What's your apartment number?"

         "1211," he answers without any hesitation.

         "How did you know I would be here?" The city should only think one person is at this apartment.

         "I was told?" He cocks his head to the side. "Do you not live here as well?"

         "No."

         Red tinges his cheeks as they scrunch up toward his eyes. His confusion seems genuine. It's hard to fake a blush. And Radia is armed with a knife.

If he's been in Somnia for a while, he could provide us with some much-needed answers.

         I step to the side, knowing Radia has the knife. "Why don't you come inside?"

         He looks relieved though the blush has yet to go away and steps through the door.

         While he sets the bag on the bar that looks into the kitchen, Radia comes out of the kitchen to greet him. No sign of the knife.

         As Tye explains to her who he is, he unloads the bag, the smell it emits strengthening, and organizes its contents across the bar. His gaze flicks to Radia every so often as she tells him about our day. Our only day. There isn't much we can contribute to a conversation with so few memories.

         As she talks, I take a seat in one of the barstools and bite into a fry with a satisfying and familiar crunch. Salt coats my tongue, and I tear open a ketchup packet, squeezing it out onto a folded napkin.

         Tye swallows the bite he takes of his burger. "I'm sorry to break it to you"—he wears a soft grin—"but your story is one I've heard many times. You're not unique." His tone is teasing though he's being serious.

         "It was the same for you then?" I ask.

         He twirls a fry around in the ketchup. "Yep. Had the same clothes as you and even had a partner too." His expression clouds over, but then he takes a bite of the fry and that look is gone. "His name's Isaac. I haven't seen him in months, but he was always a bit aloof. I'm waiting for him to pop out of my closet or from behind a trashcan just to hear me yelp."

         I notice Radia's eyes on the drawer she got the knife from as she asks, "You don't find it weird, though?"

         Tye looks at her. Seated in the barstools, they're the same height. Neither of them has to look down or up at the other. "Find what weird?" 

         "That no one knows how they got here."

         "We were already here. We didn't get here."

         "But how did we end up in that room then? We had to get to that room somehow."

         He shrugs. "I don't know. But it's the same for everyone."

         "That's weird though," she says.

         "Not if it's the same for everyone."

         I break a fry in half, watching as the crumbs fall to the counter. How can he not be confused about any of this? "But shouldn't we remember what we were doing before that? I'm sixteen years old. That means something. You realize that, right?" I've had years of my life pass by and not one memory.

         He squints. "No? There's nothing to remember before today for you. All of our lives began the day we came to Somnia."

I'm so excited that Tye is now reintroduced into the story. Thanks for reading!

~Mikaela