The first thing that came to mind when stepping foot into the main office of the sanctuary was...how could I have ever left Caesar in this place? It was obvious now that something wasn't right—especially when Landon had told Caroline and I to call ahead before visiting. I hadn't bothered this time, the thought honestly slipping my mind. Even if I had remembered to call ahead, I wouldn't have done so, anyway. The shelter was in for a much needed wake up call.

It surprised me when Landon didn't seem at all concerned when I walked into the office. He sat behind his desk, hardly glancing up at my dramatic entrance. A younger, blond-haired boy stood off to the side eating what appeared to be a bag of chocolate chip cookies; Caesar's favorite. Why were cookies haunting me? I shook it off inwardly, ignoring the kid's hard glare and stepping closer to the front desk.

"Can I help you?" He asked casually, as if he didn't know who I was. How couldn't he? We'd left Caesar here, and I was starting to regret it more than I already did.

"I need to see him," I said firmly. No matter what it took, I was putting my foot down. I didn't care that I didn't have a court order yet!

"Who?" Landon asked. He was still too preoccupied to look up, fiddling with what seemed to be strands of yarn.

"Caesar," I answered a second later.

The name finally grabbed his attention. He looked up, frowning when he saw me looming over his desk.

"We don't have an ape by the name of Caesar here," he murmured, going back to his yarn.

What was this guy playing at? But then it only took me moments to realize: this was the past. The past that Caesar had traveled back in time to. It wasn't supposed to be possible, but it happened. Now things were either going to go the way they had gone before—or not at all. Time was already beginning to tamper with memories, as Landon proved. Was I going to eventually lose my own memory? I hoped that wasn't the case. After everything, I didn't want to just forget my only son. Maybe time only affected certain people...I'd have to wait and see. But the longer I waited, the more the world was still at risk of being exposed to the 113.

"If you're not here for any apes, I suggest leaving," Landon said.

"I was..." I grappled for a new reason why I was here. It was pointless trying to check if Landon really and truly couldn't remember Caesar. If I argued any further, he was one more person to add to the list of who thought I was crazy. I wondered if I could say that I was here on behalf of Gen-Sys, looking for more apes for research. I definitely hadn't approved of leaving Caesar in the place where we took apes for experiments, but I'd had no choice. At this point, Landon had no idea who I worked for. If I said anything about the lab when we'd just ordered a group of new apes already, he'd probably get suspicious. I could always put in another request for more apes later under the company's name like we always did when bringing in new primates.

"I was actually looking for a job," I settled with. I needed to help the apes here, and actually working could be the best way to pull it off. I'd be able to come every day, or at least just the two days that Jacobs had given me before I would be fired and they would start the experiment without me. "Or even just volunteer work if you need it."

If I remembered right, there were only two other people who worked here: Landon's son and one of the night guards, Rodney. There was no way he could refuse extra help, right?

"I can clean the cages," I persisted when completely ignored. "I can just...keep an eye on the apes during the day, help them get used to humans."

"And why would they want to get used to us? They're not people, you know," Landon argued lightly. For some reason, his quote was familiar, as if I'd heard it somewhere before. "The apes here are used to their own kind and their own kind only. I don't see why we'd need another human working here."

Sudden noise in the background. Apes slamming their cages, just like Koba had done in the lab. Dodge, if I remembered his name correctly, finished off the last of his cookies and crumbled the bag, tossing it to the floor without a care. My eyes narrowed, but Landon didn't say anything in response to the action. Annoyed, Dodge left the front office to go in the back area and take care of what was causing all the commotion.

"I don't even have to work with the apes. I can just help around the office and keep things organized," I reasoned. "I've been looking for jobs everywhere and this is the last place I found...I don't even care that it's out of the way. I'll get up at three in the morning if I have to." This had to work. It had to!

No response. Landon had made up his mind, eagerly waiting for me to just go out the front door. Yelling could soon be heard and I glanced up, moving towards the play area window. I couldn't see the cages from behind the other door, but a pained scream was enough to reveal that Dodge hadn't done anything good.

"You know, if I don't find a job soon, I could always...find another way to make money."

Landon finally looked up again at the threat. "And how do you plan on doing that when you never had an ape here in the first place?"

"Wouldn't have to be mine."

The man wasn't fazed, reaching for the phone like he was going to call the police. I placed my hand over it before he could pick it up.

"Look, I won't sue, but I just really need this job. I can even make sure that your son doesn't...hurt the animals, which would really be a reason to sue then. I could have this entire place shut down."

"You're that desperate?" Landon sighed. "Do you have any previous experience with animals?"

I cringed inwardly. Now that I knew what I knew, guilt was like the plague. I was ashamed that I'd ever considered working in a place like Gen-Sys, experimenting on highly intelligent creatures whether they had been exposed to any virus or not. "I worked in a lab before it was shut down," I explained, the part about the lab shutting down anything but true. I made sure not to mention the exact lab; for all Landon knew, I could have come from any lab that had gotten shut down.

"And why the sudden change of mind? First you experiment on animals, and now you want to take care of them?"

"You could say I've turned over a new leaf," I said, giving a strained smile. If Landon noticed, he didn't say anything.

"You're free to come and start volunteering. If you can prove yourself, I might even consider hiring."

My smile became less strained, and hope crawled forward.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I won't let you down."

"When can you start?"

I only had two more days after this and if I came up empty-handed with proof that the virus was dangerous and couldn't be tested, I was done for—and so was the entire world.

"Right now," I said with enough confidence and determination to shake the room. Landon just chuckled, like he was highly amused that I still wanted to work here of all places.

"I'm impressed already," he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "My son will show you the ropes. To tell you the truth, that boy does need more discipline. If you can keep him in line, I'll even give you a raise." He scoffed at the absurd thought.

Dodge. I don't know why, but an image of water and sparks flashed in my mind, leaving him sprawled out on the ground. I reached up to rub my head and the image faded, leaving nothing but wonder and amazement that he was actually alive again. Had something happened to him in the future, too? The kid had returned from the now-quiet back area, leading me through the playpen and through the next door where the cages lined each other on one row and then another, separated by a tiled pathway that traveled down the two sides.

"You can start by cleaning the cages," he said, handing me the necessary cleaning supplies. "I'll get them all to go in the other room."

Looking from one cage to the next, my heart dropped when it appeared to be obvious that no, Caesar wasn't here. The theory that you could run into your younger self when time traveling was false, but I did happen to notice the one empty cage where they must have put him. "You sure you don't have an ape named Caesar?"

Dodge glanced back at the cage I couldn't tear my eyes from, giving a careless shrug. "I've never seen him."

The confirmation hurt.

"Who's this guy?" I asked, nodding towards a lone orangutan in another cage.

"That's Maurice," he answered, obviously annoyed by the question.

"Do they all have names?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah. This is Cornelia," Dodge said, pointing towards a female ape sleeping in her pen and cuddling with a toy.

Cornelia. Like Cornelius? I had to wonder, remembering the names of Caesar's sons. Ever since Caesar had told me what he'd named them, it always baffled me that he'd chosen specific ones like Blue Eyes, who he must have named after his mother. It left me unsettled to think that something horrible must have happened to her in the future, something horrible enough to make Caesar think there wasn't any way to try and save her. But based on time travel theories, you were never able to save someone who was never meant to be saved at all. I didn't doubt that Caesar's intelligence had gone so far as to figure that out, choosing to be content with not getting involved in Cornelia's life at all in order to protect her.

With that, the kid went to go do his job, allowing the apes to go into the play area. I glanced down at the bucket he'd placed beside me; of course I was going to do my own job, but I had another job to do, too. This whole thing was going to need a lot of planning, and I only had two more days. But so far, so good.

I couldn't help but stare at the large animal, and Maurice stared in return until he finally decided I just wasn't worth it, turning his back to me.

"I'm sorry you're stuck in here," I told him gently while I started to clean, putting on the gloves and taking a wet cloth to start rubbing. "But I'm going to get you out. I know you might not remember him or anything that happened in the future, but it's what Caesar wanted."

I noticed that the orangutan seemed to stiffen when I mentioned Caesar's name. His back tensed, and he turned around slowly to face me again. Much to my shock, he began to...sign?

"...What?" I asked, just to make sure I wasn't seeing things. How he knew sign language didn't matter; it was what he had signed that was more concerning. I signed the word 'what?' to him in case he had trouble understanding human speech.

Maurice signed again, and it was then that I knew for sure.

I do remember.