"I'm sorry I fucked everyone over. PS. I didn't kill him. PPS. Gift upstairs."

"I'm sorry I fucked everyone over. PS. I didn't kill him. PPS. Gift upstairs."

Seems she left in a hurry.

"It's hardly surprising."

You look at her rough, jagged handwriting on the note. She was in a rush, but not panicked. Deliberate. Focused.

"Yeah-yeah." He looks around. "Fugitive on the run shit. Cuno's seen this shit before."

The note does not reply. The jagged, rough handwriting looks like she was in a hurry.

But not panicked. Deliberate. Focused.

What could this gift be?

"I am not drawing my gun... yet. But I don't like 'gifts'."

He says he's not, but his hand moves instinctively toward his holster as he studies the note.

Just don't walk into another radio trap, okay...

Relax. Not everyone is out to trap you.

"A trap, probably." He nods confidently. "But don't sweat it. You got the Cuno spotting you. Let's go in."

No response, not even an echo in the stuffy room. You notice a silk shirt on the stairs.

[Leave.]

Next to stacks of bills, you see a note -- a few lines jotted down in large, uneven handwriting just as the writer was about to rush out the door.

"See you at The Return. PS. I didn't kill him. PPS. Gift upstairs."

"A gift..." The lieutenant turns to the staircase suspiciously, looking for any signs of another presence in the shadows above.

"A gift, huh... ?" The kid turns to the staircase. "That's fucking suspicious to Cuno."

"I'm sorry I fucked everyone over. PS. I didn't kill him. PPS. Gift upstairs."