DTHS03
DINER RECEIPT
RECEIPT NUMBER: DTHS03
RECEIPT DATE: 11 12 1988
MANAGER TITLE: BALTIMORE
RECEIPT NOTES:
Mrs. Cass played her part so well, wouldn’t you agree? I’d commend her for her artistry—such precision, such grace—but it isn’t truly her art, is it? It’s Fate’s. “Wrong side of the door.” How maddeningly vague. The wrong side. As if my place on one side or the other was already decided, my story already written. She spoke like a prophet, but what is any prophet if not a ventriloquist for something older? Something colder.
Of course, she didn’t actually choose her words. She only delivered them. I can’t, in good conscience, blame her for Fate’s message. Yet, even after meeting Mr. Andros’ esteemed Mrs. Cass, my thoughts on her remain unchanged. I didn’t trust her before, and now, having stood face-to-face with her, I trust her even less.
If there is a door—and if I am on the “wrong” side of it—who would be the one to close it? Fate? If Fate wanted the door shut, it would have already happened. Or, perhaps, Fate is not the master it pretends to be. No, this feels calculated. Deliberate. Fate doesn’t want to shut a damned door; it wants to get into our heads.
My most trusted associate claims I’m overthinking this. If anything, I’m underthinking it. I refuse to waste time on the idle prattle of a would-be Augur. My associate argues that Mrs. Cass isn’t entirely controlled by Fate—that she’s more like a mirror, reflecting the cracks that already exist within us. But isn’t that exactly the point? A mirror may reflect truth, but it can also distort it. And in this case? It is distorted.
I’ll concede that what Mrs. Cass said to the others may well be a reflection of their fears, their weaknesses. Those I can understand. But me? A door? A wrong side? That is no reflection of mine. That is something else entirely—a venomous whisper, a poisoned prophecy penned by Fate itself.
Yours, firmly in the frame,
Baltimore