Andrew walks out of his meeting, completely exhausted. After three long days of negotiating, he has finally worked out a deal that is sure to get him a promotion. Despite the fact that he has an early flight back to New York in the morning, Andrew decides to have a few drinks at the pub across the street. He has been in London for three days and has not seen any of the city. He cannot leave without at least visiting a pub, he thinks.

He quickly crosses the street and walks through the blue door of the pub. He notices a coat rack next to the door and carefully hangs his jacket from one of the hooks. Andrew does not really consider it to be his jacket though. It was his father's jacket, but it was passed down to Andrew after his father died last year. Almost every memory Andrew has of his dad involves him wearing the dark red coat.

Andrew walks to the bar and orders a drink. After he has finished, the bartender asks if he wants another drink. Andrew checks his watch and sees his plane is leaving in five hours and decides he needs to go. He regrets picking a flight so early in the morning, but knows he will be able to sleep on the plane. He pays for his drink, grabs his jacket, and leaves.

It has gotten much colder outside since Andrew went into the pub, so he slips his jacket on. At least, he tries to slip it on. He sticks his arm in the sleeve, but the hole at the end is too small for his hand. He tries the other sleeve, but the jacket is too small to stretch across his back. He takes it off and looks at it.

It looks like a shrunken version of his jacket. He checks the pocket and finds a wallet that is definitely not his. He opens it up and sees an ID with a picture of a woman. Her name is Erin. She has dark brown hair and green eyes. A cute girl, Andrew thinks, but he does not have time to worry about that.

He returns to the bar and checks the coat rack. His coat is gone. There are three black coats and a brown one, but not a single red. He walks around the bar thinking that maybe Erin got cold and put his jacket on, but there are no women in the whole place. He stands still, trying to decide what to do. He cannot leave his dad's jacket in London and Erin probably needs her wallet.

He types the address from her ID into his phone and sees that her house is only a few blocks away. He can stop by her place, trade jackets, and still make it back to his hotel with a little bit of time to sleep.

He walks through the night. It is getting colder and his thin dress shirt does not keep him warm. He finds the house and knocks on the door. When the door finally opens, the woman standing behind it is definitely not Erin. This woman is in her eighties with bright white hair.

"Does a woman named Erin live here?" Andrew asks her.

"No. No one lives here but me," she answers.

Andrew digs through the pocket of the jacket and hands the old woman Erin's ID. "Do you know her?" he asks.

"Oh yes, that's the girl who lived here before me. I saw her when she was moving out. She's a cute little thing, isn't she?"

"Do you know how I can contact her? It's kind of urgent."

"Well I don't really know her. I could call the landlord. See if he knows anything."

"Well if it wouldn't be too much trouble," Andrew says.