Episode 11

¿Como en ESE Oliver?

I think I understand now. The journal shows the next "entry" before it's written. So far, every time I finish writing what's shown in gold, another one appears immediately after. As strange as that sounds, it should at least help me to avoid any more surprises until I can get out of here.

Unfortunately, leaving is going to be harder than I thought. Apparently, I own this building. Nearly every cent of my savings is currently tied up in this damn place. Thankfully, I found the paperwork in the back of the filing cabinet. It may take a while to sell, but I could end up turning a profit.

P.S. Get dressed. Mrs. Green is about to arrive.

(clothes on the floor)

Didn't

Anne say something

about buying the

building?

Hold on...

I flip back to Anne's entry.

Honestly, I can’t be sure that any of my choices over the past two years have been mine alone. Like buying the Pandora Apartments... Well, I assume you've noticed

Don't

tell me...

I scour the office, sifting through stacks of papers and tossing out any unnecessary clutter in my search for the filing cabinet mentioned in the journal.

By the time I discover the filing cabinet at the bottom of a cupboard, I've managed to clean and organize the entire office, as well as find a set of keys, my wallet, a closet stocked with spare clothes, and even a full ensuite bathroom along the way.

The deed is right where the journal described, and to my utter dismay, I see my name, Kogan Mendez, listed on the document and not a single mention of anyone named ‘Anne’.

How?

My signature stares up at me from one of the pages and I freeze. It's not right. To an untrained eye, it may pass as my handwriting, but I know better. This is a forgery.

Anne did

this.

Each step feels like a mile as I make my way to the desk.

One of the computer’s tangled wires is disconnected. I plug it back in and the screen flickers to life.

My fingers tremble as I go through the login process for my bank account.

I should

still have over $500,000

saved from my mother's

life insurance

settlement...

F*ck...!

This can't

be happening!

I frantically scan through the transactions find a transaction of $589,000 paid to Bennet & Shore Law Group on January 5th, 2021.

I slump back into my chair, burying my face in clammy hands as the the weight of reality settles over me.

Okay, let’s

think about this.

I’m in possession of an asset. I just need to liquidate it.

If it’s

in a decent area,

I might even make some money back.

Tempering my expectations, I run a search for "Pandora Apartments" online.

Interesting,

it appears to be

located just outside of London, Ontario...

I'm familiar with the area, having lived only a couple of hours away. If memory serves, it's a rather attractive city, with good hospitals, schools, and yes, a respectable job market.

Intrigued, I delve a bit further and discover that property values have been steadily appreciating over the past two years.

I mull it over for a moment, then, before I can second-guess myself, I schedule an appointment with a local real estate agency, securing an appointment with an agent for the following day.

A cautious sense of optimism begins to take hold, but I know better than to fully trust it.

Best not to get

my hopes up just

yet.

Not until

I can be sure what

to expect...

And speaking of knowing what to expect...

Everything

the journal said

turned out to be true...

So are they really

messages from the

future?

Having studied mathematics, the concept of time travel is not foreign to me. I also know it's impossible.

...but if that was what's going on, it would theoretically explain why I can't change what's written on the page as it would have an effect on the timeline.

Whatever

the explanation, if

it works, it would

definitely be a

useful tool...

For

an advantage like

that, I could tolerate

the odd scratch and

general creepiness.

Huh.

Bennet & Shore...

I suppose this was a

"Thanks for your Business"

gift.

I scribble the message down quickly. It's a perfect match as always. And, as always, a new message appears below it.

I have my work cut out for me to sell this place. I just hope I can find a buyer before it drives me completely insane.

The security team, if you can even call them that, seems to be comprised of drug dealers and lowlifes. I fired the one called "Wolf" and he had the audacity to threaten me afterward. It's also clear that Oliver has been running his mouth about what happened the other night like it's a big joke.

To make matters worse, the trash chute sounds like it's been taken over by a colony of wasps. Just my luck. I'll have to call an exterminator first thing in the morning.