Once again, I was standing outside the door of Sean’s apartment. I shook my head. Had that been real? I wasn’t craving a drink or a dose of painkillers at least. I patted my pockets and found the golden key, just as it had been before. The golden keyhole was nowhere to be seen, however. I returned the gold key to my pocket and fished out my house keys.

“What the...?” Surely these weren’t my keys? For one thing, there was now a key fob, one for a car by the look of it. My first Dependent. Because I was clean, I hadn’t lost my car. There were several other keys, none of which I recognized. The key to Sean’s apartment was missing.

Maybe I didn’t live here anymore? Nothing to do but knock, I thought.

Sean answered a few seconds later. His face lit up in a genuine smile — the first I had seen from him in a long time, at least directed towards me. “Come in! We’re just getting set up.”

I followed him inside. The place looked pretty much the same, except all of my stuff was missing from the corner next to the couch. There was a card table set up in the middle of the room, with some sort of board game spread over it.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. “There’s water and soda in the fridge.” Sean looked concerned for a moment. “You don’t mind if me and the other guys have a beer, do you?”

“No, that’s fine,” I said automatically. Wait, why would he mind?

Clean. I was clean now. That meant I didn’t drink.

Well, what did I expect? I couldn’t have it both ways, could I? But man, what other changes were out there, waiting to trip me up?

There was one way I could find out. I looked down at the ring. Before I had a chance to stop myself, I twisted it once around my finger. The stone darkened from pearly white to a robin’s egg blue.

Yes, I was clean. In college, before I dropped out, I had quite the alcohol problem. I wouldn’t listen to anyone about it, either, until my brother set me straight. He....

Wait, my brother? I didn’t have a brother! The memory of growing up as an only child was strong, but under that was a current of confident assurance. I grew up with Marty. He was three years older than me, and he always had his shit together when I never did. Thanks to him, I stopped drinking and got my life on track. He had even given me his old Toyota when he got a new car, helped me move into my apartment out on Long Island. I owed a lot to Marty.

“Hey Sean? I’m suddenly not feeling well,” I said. “I know I just got here, but I’m going to have to go.”

He looked concerned. “Are you okay? Do you need me to drive you home?”

“I drove over here. It’s not far, I can make it. Sorry to flake out on you.” I surveyed the game, suddenly remembering other gaming sessions with Sean. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“No worries, we’ll do it next week.” The look of concern never left his face as he walked me to the door.

As soon as it shut, I took out the golden key. There was no keyhole anywhere to be seen. Frustrated, I stormed downstairs. I went out into the street, walked three blocks to where I now remembered my car had been parked. As I drove, I had to let instinct take over. I had a memory of where I lived now, but it was easiest to access when I was not thinking about it.

Half an hour later, I arrived at the suburban house where I lived. It had been subdivided into apartments, I knew. One key opened the front door, and another would open the door that let into my half of the house.

On that inner door was a glowing golden keyhole.

The keyhole must only appear where I live, I decided. Now that I didn’t live with Sean anymore, the keyhole no longer belonged there. It belonged here. Well, we’d soon find out what was going on. I slammed the key into the hole. It didn’t budge.

“I want to see Evelyn! I have questions!” I told it. “Let me in!”

It turned, and I was once more walking down the long corridor.

When I arrived at the lobby, I stalked toward the stairs, but pulled up short. The text on the wall had changed.

“Brian Parkland

“Brian was born in 1981, the younger of two boys. In school he dabbled in basketball and track, while making average grades. He attended three years of college before dropping out to attend trade school.

For the past six years, Brian has been a machinist at a local aircraft manufacturing facility. His hobbies include board gaming and indie music. On April 3rd, 2018, he first encountered Debug Mode, and made these changes.”

Shaking my head, I moved on. As I had hoped, Evelyn was sitting at her desk behind the double doors, looking helpful.

“I have a brother,” I said.

“That is correct.”

“How can me getting clean create a, a sibling I never had before?” I sputtered.

“Ah! That is a Precedent.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Allow me to explain. A Dependent is a consequence resulting from the change. For example, because you stopped drinking and never started painkillers, you were able to maintain a steady job, own a vehicle, live in a small Long Island apartment. These are changes that are dependent on the primary change.

“A Precedent, on the other hand, is something that had to change in order for the primary change to happen. In order to stop drinking, you needed someone who you would listen to, someone that did not exist in your past life. In this new reality, you had that someone. That change is a Precedent.”

My head was swimming. “Now I see. It’s like, the only fixed point is the change. Everything else before or after that fixed point can vary, according to the rules of cause and effect.”

“Precisely. Any other questions?”

“No, not right now, I....” But before I could finish the sentence, the office once more vanished around me, and I was standing outside my apartment door. The golden keyhole was still there.

This time, I used my door key, went inside, and wished vehemently that I still drank. It wasn’t a physical craving like it once was, but having a drink would have really helped right then.