Too Broke For Afterlife

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"Looks like we'll have to split up."

I look at the big glass door. We are standing in front of conference hall number 1. The other two are situated on the next floor, at least according to the sign.

Clemens agrees with my proposal. "In the eye of time running out, you are right. You will search this hall and I'll take number 2. After that, we meet at the third one."

"Got it. Good luck."

Clemens nods and makes his way to the stairwell, I open the door to the conference room.

Cold air hits me and under normal circumstances (you know...like being alive or something) I would surely start to shiver now, my skin being covered in goosebumps.

Growing up in California, I'm very sensitive to cold. Austria had already been a challenge. 

The room is quite big but not big enough to be called a hall. There are a good 50 chairs standing around a long white table. 

Okay, if I was Isabella, where would I be sitting?

Probably close to the door in case I have to quickly get out or flee. And definitely facing the window.

Isa had once shared with me that one of her quirks is that she always has to face the light source when sitting down because that is when she looks prettiest. I thought it was weird at first and still do but sometimes logic can't fight vanity.

With those two criteria in mind, only one side of the table is still available and I start examining the seats. 

Sadly, all chairs look exactly the same and I'm starting to question what I'm even doing here. What am I looking for? A hidden message? Come save me carved into the table?

I look at the rest of the room with slow, piercing eyes.

Wait, what's that?

I walk over to the wall opposite of the window front and kneel down to look at the plastic tube.

Is this...a Tom Fjord lipstick?

I want to pick it up but then I have a better idea.

This is hardly a coincidence. If this is Isa's lipstick, she wouldn't have stood in the corner of the room to fix her makeup. It's much more likely that the lipstick fell out of her bag and rolled over. or maybe, she dropped it on purpose.

I look at the position of the lipstick and then start tracing its way back to the table until I stop between two chairs.

It must have come from here. And with Isabella being right-handed, I'm pretty sure she'd put her bag down on the right side of the chair, not the left.

So I examine the left chair.

It looks completely normal at first, no SOS scribbles onto the seat. 

I kneel down again to look underneath it and that's where I see it. The moon necklace she had bought at the auction, It's lying a few inches away from the chair underneath the table.

Oh my god. Am I turning into a detective? Am I secretely a genius? Should I apply for Harvard? 

I grab the necklace and immediately notice the tiny piece of paper wrapped around it. 

I fiddle it off the jewelry and unroll it. The paper is hardly bigger than a fingernail and reads only four words.

'I hate your boyfriend.'

Okay…

I furrow my eyebrows as I stare at the paper. Did she mean my boyfriend, Michigan? And if so, why out of all the things in the world is this the message she decided to leave behind?

Couldn't she have chosen more useful information like the place she is staying at or why she is here? Instead she decided to criticize my dating life?

What's her problem with Michigan anyway? Yes, he was an ass at first and told that stupid reporter to write a nasty article but underneath he is actually a really good person. Funny, good looking, talented, smart...

Or is Isabella just jealous? Either way, I think I'll need Clemens' help to decode this.

I let the necklace and lipstick glide into the pocket of my jacket and then rush out of the room and up the stairs.

Or what if she didn't mean Michigan? Who else has a boyfriend? Nox? No, she is definitely single. One of her friends back home? But I don't know any of them except for Brandy and that chick is married. Her coworker Nadim? Is he gay?

No, it has to be Michigan! Everything else would be way too risky as I'm the only one who is privy to her private life and even I feel like I hardly know anything.

"Dude!"

I run over to Clemens who is coming out of the conference hall right this second.

"Oh, you're finished already? Did you find something?"

"Yes! And I need your help to figure it out."

I take out the piece of paper and hand it to him.

Clemens takes a look at the sentence and then nods. "I see, now it makes sense!"

I furrow my brows. "Does it?"

"Yes, because I found something as well, a piece of paper lying on the window sill together with a small key. I wasn't sure whether it was from Isabella but now I'm positive. Take a look."

He hands me another piece of paper. This one is a good bit bigger and I unfold it to read what's been written.

You two f*cked in the break room.

You made the wrong choice.

I'm sitting here, drunk,

and everything is too bittersweet.

I wish you were alone.

I shake my head, trying to understand it.

"What's this? A poem?"

"I'm led to believe as you have a boyfriend now that these lines are based on real life and might be discussing something that has happened. Would you be so kind to fill me in?"

I honestly don't want to remember that day. It was the night I decided to rejoin the mission and make sure my friends always stay safe. 

When Isa had told me about the pills, my heart broke.

Why is she bringing that back up again?

I look at the paper as I sort my thoughts.

"She came to the wine store I worked at and asked for help with picking out a wine. Then she pointed out my...hickeys. She saw Michigan come out of the breakroom."

I take a deep breath.

"With both notes combined I'd guess she is saying that I made the wrong decision choosing Michigan instead of her and that's why she hates him."

"But how would that help us find her?"

I shrug. "I don't know either. It doesn't."

Clemens grabs my shoulder, I'm tempted to shake it off.

"No, Judy. That's the point. It doesn't, which means this is not the correct interpretation."

I look at him confused. "What?"

"Look…" He takes the paper from me.

"I think your guess is what an outsider would assume. She wrote the note to let you know how mad she is. Maybe her intention was to send them on a wrong track, make them believe you two aren't on the same team anymore. And only you can crack the actual code. So please, think again. What else could this mean?"

A wrong track. A code only I can crack. 

I lean against the wall and cross my arms, a position that makes thinking a little bit easier.

But I'm out of ideas.

"I don't know. I only hear jealousy in those lines. The only thing I don't understand is the last part. Our breakup wasn't bittersweet. It was painful, especially for her."

Clemens nods. "I see. What did you say she wanted from you? Help pick out a wine?"

"Yes."

I still remember how weird I had felt, having a wine connoisseur ask for my advice. I don't even like wine, I only worked there to be able to pay rent.

"So what if the wrong choice she mentioned isn't related to Michigan? What if she meant the wine you picked out for her?"

"Oh...well…"

"Judy, what wines were you two disussing?"

Oh my god, that was weeks ago! In the meantime I've broken into a graveyard, killed a guy and gone to Heaven. How can I remember that?

"Judy, think."

"I am! Jesus! One was…" I press my eyes together in hopes of retrieving the memories.

"One was a Cortese and the other one...something expensive. Green bottle. Semillon? Yes, that one!"

I jump in excitement. "I recommended a Semillon instead of a Cortese!"

"And let me guess, Semillon is sweet?"

"It is! But slightly bitter."

Clemens opens his arms with a wide smile, almost as if he wants to hug me. 

"That's the code then. Cortese. The wrong choice you made."

"But how does that help us? Where do we go now?"

I haven't seen any Cortese bottles lying around yet. But Clemens already seems to have solved that question.

"Where rich people like the Mayor keep their wine.. We are going into the basement."