Episode 11 - The Choice

Monday morning dawned gray.

Not outside—there were windows in the lobby—but the light inside the station had a muted, overcast hue. The weekend buzz had dissipated, leaving behind a film of quiet.

Olivia sat at the front desk, the unopened tape resting in front of her like a question she didn’t know how to ask.

Her tail curled reflexively around the base of her stool.

Her ears—undeniably hers now—tilted toward every hallway sound like satellite dishes.

She’d barely slept.

Hadn’t seen Bernard since the tape delivery.

And Charles had been somewhere else since the shift change.

So when a voice softly said, “You should come with me now, sweetheart,” Olivia didn’t startle.

She just looked up.

The woman standing there radiated a quiet authority—not flashy, not theatrical. Her voice was molasses and magnolia, her hair pulled up in a vintage wrap with silver combs. She wore a long, flowing cardigan that shimmered subtly like oil on water, and sensible shoes that made no sound on tile.

Miss LaDonna.

Olivia didn’t need a nametag to know.

She stood slowly. “You’re real.”

“Sometimes,” Miss LaDonna said with a small smile. “Come on.”

They walked in silence down a hallway Olivia had never noticed before.

The lighting was softer here. The walls, covered in dark floral wallpaper, were lined with framed photos—not of people, but of shadows. Some frames held moving film stills that looped endlessly.

At the end of the hall was a room filled with quiet.

Bookshelves. A fireplace that flickered despite the lack of a chimney. A settee with a steaming teapot already poured.

Miss LaDonna motioned for Olivia to sit.

“I imagine Bernard gave you something,” she said.

Olivia nodded. “A tape.”

“He does that.” Miss LaDonna sat across from her. “He means well. But his timing’s awful.”

They sipped tea.

And then Miss LaDonna said, gently, “Your ears and tail… they’re real now, aren’t they?”

Olivia froze.

Then nodded. “They weren’t. Before.”

“No, they weren’t,” Miss LaDonna agreed. “You wore them. You loved them. And the station noticed.”

Olivia looked up sharply. “The station?”

“OtherWorlds isn’t just a building,” LaDonna said. “It’s old. Older than any of us. It responds to belief, to performance, to longing. It sees the masks people wear… and sometimes, it helps them stop pretending.”

“So it did this to me.”

“No.” She reached out, placed a warm hand over Olivia’s. “It gave you the opportunity. You did the rest.”

There was silence again.

Then: “Can I… go back?”

Miss LaDonna’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Yes. You can walk out that front door, and by the time you hit the sidewalk, your tail will fall off. Your ears will be a headband again. Your memories will dull, like a dream. You’ll go back to being ‘just a Furry,’ in a world that won’t ever quite understand.”

“And if I stay?”

“Then the changes stay too. And more will come. Slowly. Naturally. You’ll stop trying to act like yourself and just be yourself. Entirely.”

Olivia looked down at her hands. Her fingers had a faint dusting of fur now. She hadn’t noticed until this moment.

Miss LaDonna leaned in slightly.

“You don’t have to decide today. You can think on it. But if you choose to stay—truly stay—then the station will open itself to you in ways you haven’t imagined. And you won’t be alone. Not ever again.”

Olivia’s ears twitched.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt more like myself,” she said softly. “But it’s scary.”

LaDonna nodded. “All the best things are.”