Episode 45 - Claimant 33-B

The box was where she left it.

Behind the front desk.

Unassuming. Closed. Still labeled in her own handwriting: “Held for Claim – Olivia.”

It hadn’t moved.

Not until this moment.

The room felt warm. Not hot. Just… attentive.

Monitor 6B flickered once, showing the cartoon dog with its head tilted, watching.

She didn’t rush.

She pulled the tape from the flaps. Peeled it gently.

Lifted the lid.

And there—sitting right at the top now, though it hadn’t been there before—was a small, velvet pouch.

She opened it.

Inside:

A coin.

Old. Worn smooth by fingers that might not have been hers. One side was blank. The other held a symbol.

A keyhole inside a circle.

The same as the one on the envelope.

Beneath it: a folded piece of parchment.

Olivia unfolded it with care.

In the same looping script as the claim form, it read:

“Thank you for holding onto yourself. This is a token. Not currency. Not payment. A reminder.

When you feel you are losing your way— Flip the coin. And let the right version of you step forward.”

There was no signature.

But at the bottom was a small inked pawprint.

A dog’s. One star-shaped patch on the toe.

Olivia stood there for a long moment.

Then placed the note gently back into the pouch.

Slipped the coin into her pocket.

And whispered:

“Welcome home.”

From behind her, Bernard floated up.

Quiet. Respectful.

“You claimed it?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t choose it. But I accepted it.”

“Same thing,” he said.

And the station settled again.

Not because it was over.

But because something new had just begun.