Swamped

You don't like the thought of an implausible denial, an even more implausible truth, or outright deception. About all that leaves is deflecting with questions of your own.

"Why? Does your clerk have a health condition, and you think I might have it too?"

"You look an awful lot like him. The ears and chin, especially. Older, of course, and he doesn't have a beard, but other than that, I keep being struck by the resemblance."

When did this nurse see your younger self closely enough to know your features that well? You don't even remember him, which isn't that surprising considering he's on a different shift from you. This is unsettling.

Wait, no... a month before this, you fell unconscious. Turned out to be a strong fever. They said you were out for a day. With such a small staff, this nurse might well have tended to you and you'd never have known it.

"I suppose we could be blood relatives. Doesn't mean we know each other, though. For all I know, I could have had a twin who was adopted by a childless couple before I was a year old and my parents never told me about it. What does it matter?"

The nurse holds his bracelet carefully.

"It matters because a month ago, Nual told me how to heal that clerk's fever and now you come in here, claiming to be acting on his behalf. I do not think this is a coincidence."

Wait. Nual intervened to save you? You simultaneously feel grateful and like much of your life is out of your own hands.

And you suppose that means there's no sense hiding anything.

"I am that clerk," you say quietly.

The nurse nods, evidently needing no further explanation, and hands you the note. Sometimes it's easy dealing with believers.

"Go. Nual be with you."

You walk out without any further interruptions. Then you start making your way to Patterson's.

You just barely catch a glimpse of someone going in the door ahead of you, but even in that brief moment, you notice something striking.