"Famous last words," Helen decided the next night, was an accurate phrase.
"I don't want to say that this is hopeless," she began, peering at the two identical manila folders in her hands, "but this might be hopeless."
Although she'd expected a mess after seeing Addy's reaction to Isaiah's words from the previous night, she certainly hadn't thought the mess would be quite so . . . severe.
The office, which was located beside the master bedroom in Isaiah's (and now Addy's) massive penthouse apartment, was the same size as Helen's bedroom, but had no floor. Or, rather, the floor was covered in papers and folders, and the bookshelves and decently-sized desk were stuffed to the brim with manila files.
They were looking for a file among files; another saying Helen had deemed appropriate for the situation was "a needle amongst the haystack."
"I thought you told me once that you only store documents on computers," Helen grumbled, peering at each file in her hands before setting them both in one of the many "shit piles" (Addy's words).
Isaiah, who was more of a hindrance than a help with the manner in which he got distracted by his old app ideas, tore his gaze from the papers in his hands and shot Helen a befuddled look. "Current documents," he explained as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. "I don't need old documents, so I print them off and then organize them in here."
"'Organize' my ass," Addy huffed under her breath from her spot in the back corner of the room, and Helen couldn't help but chuckle quietly.
Unfortunately, the brief moment of humor didn't serve to distract Helen from the main issue at hand. They'd been sifting through piles for the last hour and were no closer to finding Dahlia's file than when they started. Helen was beginning to think that they'd be better off just finding the woman herself.
"You're absolutely sure that you didn't put it elsewhere?" She asked, grimacing when she opened a particularly thick folder, only to find a stack of insurance information.
"I don't like paper cluttering up my home," Isaiah replied snootily, and Helen shared and incredulous glance with Addy.
"What would you call this?" Addy asked, flinging her arms out to gesture at their surroundings. "Isn't this 'clutter'?"
"This is a conscious decision on my part." Isaiah retorted blithely.
"Well, then we might need to talk about making a conscious decision to hire a cleaning lady."
"I don't like letting people I don't know in my home."
"It's a good thing you're about to get some practice," Addy announced, just as three firm knocks echoed from the apartment's front door.
Isaiah's brows furrowed. "What did you do?" He asked, his confusion growing when Addy's lips tilted into a wicked smirk.
Helen was just as lost. "Yeah, who did you call?"
Addy hopped up from her spot on the floor, shedding several files that were perched on her lap, and blew Helen a kiss as she left the room. "Should've changed your password, Nell!" she hollered over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.
Helen whirled to Isaiah. "What's happening?"
He shrugged. "I am fond of her, but I sometimes wonder if she escaped from an asylum."
Helen blinked once. Twice, three times, and then she wondered aloud, "Are you guys still watching Criminal Minds reruns?"
"Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."
YOU ARE READING
Patchworked Hearts {SAMPLE}
Romance"Crap, sweetheart," Pat's voice was tinged with regret, even as he cupped her face with both hands and began to dust kisses on all the available skin he could find, "I didn't mean to make you cry." Helen sniffled, bringing her hands up to wrap her f...
