"Thank you."

The instructions are probably real. She'll leave a note here saying where she's gone to for Ives, she'll get two operatives whose faces and names she will not be told to drive her to the address and serve as body guards, and she will go to the address.

A young woman opens the door! "Hey - you don't look like a plumber, are you a plumber -"

"Ah, no, I'm afraid not." The recording is playing into her earbuds. "I'm looking for this man?" She has a picture. It's not a grainy picture from security footage; it's a close-up picture of him smiling outside the house while talking to someone, which was taken by one of those very good Organization cameras with good enough resolution and an angle that makes it look like it could be an Instagram picture.

"Not familiar, sorry - you maybe want Annika, that looks like it could be Annika he's talking to?"

No, they won't remember him. "Is she around? Or maybe I could just look around for him? I found his wallet in his seat after class earlier and asked around and some people told me he hung out here sometimes." She has a wallet here with a realistic fake ID with Skip's face on it.

Now here's something Quinn doesn't do that often: she's going to feed this young woman's memories to Sunshine. Specifically, the memory this woman is forming, in real time, of Quinn's apparent age. Instead, the woman's brain will generate its own guess of how old Quinn must be/look, based on the surrounding context of someone coming to a group house full of students saying they found another student's ID after class.

It's a hostile move, to be sure, but the Antimemetics Division isn't in the business of being known to exist, and even if Quinn didn't do anything at all this interaction would fade from memory almost as easily as interactions with that anomaly do. It's a hazard of the job. The only way Quinn is married is because her husband has a natural genetic resistance to antimemetic effects, allowing him to remember her every day.

Anyway. Here's a nice young student looking for her classmate.

"He doesn't live here. Does his license maybe have his address on it?"

"Yeah, but he wasn't there, it was his roommate who said he was often around here. I didn't catch her name, though. Can you ask around if anyone's seen him? If not, I'll just leave the wallet with his roommate on my way back, I don't have any classes with him again until Friday."

"What's his name?"

"Skip." She hopes the report or her past self have a good reason why she's not questioning this.

"HEY THE HOUSE DOES ANYBODY KNOW A GUY NAMED SKIP?"

There's some hollered "NO"s and one "YOU COULD HAVE JUST ASKED ON DISCORD" and:

"Who wants to know?"

Bingo. "Skip? It's Marie! I found your wallet with your driver's license!" she calls, as loudly as he did.

Reasonable odds this backfires, but it's fine if it does. She found her guy, and she can just stalk the place discreetly until he leaves.

"I don't have a driver's license!" he says.

"...then someone's playing a really elaborate prank on you!"

Front Door Answering Girl has wandered off and Skip takes her place at the door, wary and puzzled. "What kind of prank might that be?"

Cool, wandered off is good. She can lower her voice. "Hello, Skip, it's a pleasure to meet you. I believe people have a hard time remembering you. Assuming you're not hostile and not doing this on purpose and would like to know more about it, I can tell you more about it, either right now or I can leave you a phone number you can call if you want to think on it."

Her recording included an instruction not to feed her Sunshine any memories of Skip, and probably Skip's own memories are similarly off-limits, so his brain is free to retain the memory that she's not in fact a student.

"Why the fuck would I do this on purpose," he exclaims, though not very loudly.

"Usually because you're getting something out of it, but it doesn't really look like you are." 

"I would rather pay taxes like a normal person! Can you fix me? Are there more of me, what's wrong with me -"

"While your effects may cover people retaining information about you, it's still probably not a good idea for us to talk about it here. But to answer those questions, I don't know if I can fix you, and I don't know if there are more exactly like you—you may have guessed that it's not exactly easy to keep track of people like you, if they exist. But everyone who works with this kind of thing works for me, so if there's a way for you to get fixed, we're probably your best shot. Come with me? We can talk more in the car." She smiles. "And no, we're not going to run nefarious government experiments on you; we might want to hire you."

Appearances can be deceiving, and Quinn is keeping the possibility that this is an elaborate ruse in mind, but if she takes it at face value, this is a kid. This is just a kid who got dealt a rotten hand by forces even she barely understands. Which means that he is exactly the kind of person she and the Organization exist to protect.

"Can we go for a walk first? You won't lose me if you're actively talking to me unless you zone out and I am not zero worried about the nefarious government experiments."

"Yeah, sure, we can. I'm not from around these parts, you wanna show me around?"

"Sure."

He closes the door behind him and steps out. "You look slightly familiar."

"We ran into each other in the grocery store the other day. It's how I found you, by sheer dumb luck."

"...how'd you find where I live from that? And my name?"