The news sometimes seems to repeat itself - a murder here, a scandal there, a story about the stock market. Some days it’s a quick cruise through to realize that there’s not much of note going on. Or at least, not much more than the usual hum of news from the world. But then, sometimes a story will stand out. A particularly gruesome murder, a politician having an affair, a celebrity baby. A missing person story can really have legs - especially if the details about their disappearance are particularly mysterious. That was her story - the headline was “Missing Almost Mrs. In Mississippi.” I honestly think the story gained most of its traction because of the clever title of the article. Someone in the newsroom knew their stuff. I read through the story a bit, but there wasn’t much about it that seemed too outstanding. A woman went missing on her wedding day - a classic tale. She was there all morning - in her dress. Wedding photos had been taken, the guests had all arrived… but when the time came for her to walk down the aisle, she just wasn’t there anymore. The typical “bride walking down the aisle” music was playing, but no bride was to be found. Was it cold feet? Murder? Aliens? That’s what made it a good mystery… nobody knew, and clues were sparse - practically non-existent. She was pretty too - she had captivatingly deep blue eyes that played well online. They really pulled you in, which helped the story carry. People care more about missing people when they’re attractive. I remember thinking it was probably murder. She didn’t look very big - maybe 5’6’’ at the most. I’m not saying she couldn’t hold her own, but she didn’t look like she could hold her own. It probably wasn’t her fiancée, that would be too obvious. Maybe a jealous ex? The world, it seemed, was collectively trying to figure out what happened, and her instagram page was blowing up after her mysterious disappearance. If she wanted, she could have probably been an “influencer” before her disappearance. Well, I guess she kind of is an influencer now. Being a runaway bride apparently has a great affect on you follower count. I was looking forward to watching the story unfold. From afar.

I would have probably been a bit more of an internet sleuth and tried to solve the mystery using the imaginary bread crumbs found in her socials, but Supernova, who’s usually pretty relaxed in the morning, suddenly jumped up from her usual morning grooming session, ran over to where I was sitting and started chewing on my toes - reminding me of just how sharp cat teeth can be. She was just over a year old, so still a bit of a kitten at times. Nonetheless, she was bothered by something - maybe the silence. I realized I had been done with breakfast a while before then and had been in a bit of trance trying to be a modern Sherlock Holmes. I put thick slippers on to protect my feet, but Nova was undeterred and hounded me the whole way to the sink. I was trying wash my dishes and grab a toy for her, but just as quickly as she started, she ran off, howling and hissing the whole way up the stairs - her tail about as big as I’ve ever seen. I shook my head, wondering what got into her this morning, which is when I heard a knock at the front door.

It was a strange thing to add on to what had already started to be a strange morning. For anyone, a knock at your door at 7 in the morning is probably out of the ordinary. But for me, it was practically unheard of. I moved to small town Alaska almost 15 years ago for the peace and quiet, and for the most part, that’s what I got. I could think of no reason that anyone would be at my door that early, and considered pretending that I was still asleep to avoid the need to talk to anyone. Plus, it was December. The morning was cold, windy, and there was a light dusting of new snow on the ground. It was warm inside, and once I opened the door and cracked the seal, the cozy would be gone. I wasn’t about to ruin the warm morning vibes by opening the door and letting in the cold… and I didn’t want to face the inevitable conversation with whoever was at the door. I’m not antisocial, but that early in the morning, I’m certainly not social. I was about to make the decision to stay quiet and ignore whoever it was, they would go away, and I could enjoy the rest of my morning in relative peace. I had almost convinced myself I imagined the knock at the door…

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK*

I guess I didn’t imagine it. That was the knock of someone that wasn’t going away on their own. As grumpy as it made me, I headed to the door to see what the commotion was all about.

“Just be nice, it’s probably something important,” I said to myself. “It better be something important,” I thought.

I stepped into the arctic entry (where it already felt cold enough to ruin my cozy morning), all the while contemplating the best back handed non-compliment I could give whoever was at my door. “Oh it’s so good to see you…” felt too fake. “What a great way to start the morning…” was definitely too fake. “Is everything ok…” would hopefully make the person realize how ridiculous it was to be knocking at my door on such a morning…

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK*

“Who would be so impatient as to knock a third time,” I thought. I didn’t know what to say to them, so I figured I would just open the door and leave it to them to fill the silence. If it’s so important for them to see me this early, they probably already have something to say.

I intended to crack the door open to not allow too much cold air in, but the second I turned the handle, the door flew open with a force that I didn’t expect, and couldn’t have stopped. If it wasn’t for the wall, I would have been knocked off my feet. A flurry of snow and cold came rushing into the room - and so did a woman. A woman dressed in a wedding gown. Her cheeks were a bit more rosy red than the pictures of her online, but it was her. Her stature, her pixie cut brown hair… I mean the wedding dress… Any doubts I may have had melted away when she looked at me and her icy blue eyes stared into mine.

“I’ve finally found you,” she said. “I thought you were going to let me freeze out there!”

I was frozen myself, but not from the cold. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know where to move. I didn’t know if what was happening was even real. When she realized I wasn’t going to, she turned and shut the door.

“Are you trying to let all the warm air out?” She asked as she pulled the curtains shut. She peeked out window as she did, “good, looks like I wasn’t followed.”

I found my voice in the sea of incredulity, “Followed!” I said. “From Mississippi?!”

“People do generally follow you from where you’ve been.” Was the only answer she seemed keen on providing.

“What are you doing here? How are you here?” I couldn’t believe what was happening. In fact, I decided not to believe it. Someone was playing a joke on me. I smiled, thinking I had figured out the trick.

“Who put you up to this? Was it Sean?” I asked as she started moving into the house.

“I’m starving.” She groaned as she made her way around the house, shutting the curtains to keep prying eyes out. Once satisfied that nobody could see in, she turned to me, “Please, can I have some breakfast?”

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

“I promise, everything will make sense soon enough, but I’m starving! It’s been a long night.”

“Of course, why not?” I chuckled, “why wouldn’t I offer a meal to such an honored guest!”

I still hadn’t decided whether I was excited for the adventure that this prank was leading me on, or whether I should be angry for the interruption in my day. My emotions were in the middle. I had a feeling Sean was up to this, or maybe Phil? As I went into my pantry, I couldn’t help but think the effort someone went through… the fake news articles, the fake profiles… although the profiles might have be real - obviously she’s a real person. Was this all a big ploy to get more followers? Was my birthday coming up? I was in my thoughts as I gathered breakfast for my unexpected guest, and realized I hadn’t asked what she wanted.

“What will it be?” I yelled from the pantry.

“Grits,” she replied, “with walnuts and maple syrup.”

I looked down at what I had absentmindedly collected - Grits, walnuts, and maple syrup. I leaned out of the pantry and looked at her. She was seated at the table. She couldn’t see the pantry from where she was. How could she know what I already gathered?

“With an egg on top, over easy,” we both said at the same time.

She looked up at me, her eyes piercing mine, “Good, you’re starting to remember.”

“Remember?” I gasped to myself as much as her.

How could I remember something I’ve never known? Was her favorite breakfast in one of the articles I skimmed? It must have been on her instagram! My thoughts all felt upside down, and I started doubting what I knew. I started doubting that any of this was going on.

“Jeremy,” she implored, snapping my thoughts back to the present. “I need you to remember. The quicker the better. Whether they followed me or not, it’s only a matter of time before they track you down.”

“Isn’t that why they sent you, Chloe?”

I heard the words falling from my mouth, but didn’t believe they were mine. I could see them landing on the floor with the grits that had scattered across the hardwood from when they slipped from my grip. The words got stuck in the maple syrup that was slowly spreading - the bottle shattered.

“Not this time,” she whispered.

I felt intoxicated. I started to remember things I had no way of knowing - sounds and smells. I started to remember my emotions, my anger, pain, and love. I remember being confused on top of already feeling confused. I felt myself slipping away and losing my grip on reality.

“Jeremy, look at me.”

I looked up from the mess on the floor - words and all. I snapped back into consciousness. My eyes falling up into hers yet again.

“They’ll be here soon,” I said resolutely, “we have to go.”

I remembered everything.

“Not until I’ve had my breakfast,” she replied through her smile, “and a change of clothes.”

She never did like to rush a meal.