The Previous Renter

Theo did not open the door that first day. He went home, and he did not sleep, and in the morning he went to the storage office and asked the only sensible question, which was: what happened to whoever had Unit 114 before me. The man behind the desk got very interested in his keyboard. "She stopped paying," he said. "People do that. We cleared the unit, we re-let it. Standard." "You cleared it. So her stuff is somewhere." "In the back. We hold it ninety days." The man finally looked up, and Theo saw that he was not a bad man, just a tired one, just someone who had decided long ago not to think too hard about Unit 114. "Look. Her name was Priya. She rented it two years. And one day the cameras have her going in, and they just — they don't have her coming out. And we looked. We looked everywhere a person could be." Theo thought of the door. The white door, slightly ajar, breathing forest air. "Can I see her things?" he said.