Chapter 9 – Part 2
Autumn Berry – POV
The club room smelled faintly of coffee and old books, the sunlight streaming through the tall windows casting warm patterns on the floor. Quinn was at the whiteboard, sketching maps of the campus based on previous clues. Liam's fingers flew over his keyboard, cross-referencing access logs. Dorielle lounged on the couch, idly scrolling her phone, occasionally chiming in with questions. Theo sat quietly in a corner, pen in hand, making notes on behavior patterns. Rhea stood near the center, clipboard in hand, directing everyone with her usual calm authority.
I sat at the table, flipping through Selene's most recent poems. They seemed harmless at first — soft imagery, flowing words, gentle sentiments. But something told me there was more. My eyes lingered on one poem in particular:
*"Always when the morning light appears,
I find your laughter echoing near.
Soft whispers linger in the gentle breeze,
Telling tales only my heart can hear.
Love grows quietly in every glance,
Moments we share, suspended in time.
I trace your hand beneath the moonlight,
Feeling your warmth, your soul, your love.
Every heartbeat echoes like a drum,
Calling me closer with every sigh.
The world fades softly when you are near,
And in your eyes, I learn to fly.
Xylophones of memories play inside,
A melody only we understand.
Forever written in this tender song,
A journey we walk, hand in hand."*
I frowned, scanning the lines carefully. Something felt… deliberate. I had tried several methods before — taking first words, second words, even counting letters — but nothing seemed to make sense. I let out a frustrated sigh.
"Autumn," Rhea called, noticing my frown, "what's wrong?"
I shrugged. "It's this poem… I can feel she's hiding something here. But I can't figure out how. I've tried a few methods, and nothing works."
Rhea came closer, reading over my shoulder. "Poems can hide messages in subtle ways. Sometimes the simplest method is the most overlooked. Try looking at patterns differently — maybe the first letters of some lines."
I tilted my head, scanning the poem slowly. "First letters…?" I muttered, running my finger down the beginnings of each stanza.
Suddenly, it clicked. I whispered to myself, tracing the letters on the page:
* First stanza: *A → I → S → T*
* Second stanza: *L → M → I → F*
* Third stanza: *E → C → T → A*
* Fourth stanza: *X → A → F → A*
I paused, rereading. Something stood out — the letters of the first line of each stanza:
*A → L → E → X*.
I blinked. "Oh… oh my Gosh. ALEX."
Rhea raised an eyebrow. "Alex?"
I looked up. "The letters… first letters of each stanza. They spell a name — Alex. That has to be a hidden message or not?."
Quinn, curious, leaned over. "Alex? Who's that?"
I shook my head. "I don't know… I haven't seen that name mentioned anywhere else."
Dorielle smirked, leaning back. "I happen to know. That's Selene's boyfriend. The poems aren't just poetry — she's pointing directly to him. That's why this was so hard to decode at first. She hid it naturally, so no one would suspect a thing."
I felt a chill run down my spine. "So she's leaving clues about where she is, and she's also telling us who might be responsible…"
Rhea nodded. "Exactly. That's why you needed to try a few methods first, Autumn. Sometimes the obvious answer is the one hidden in plain sight. This is how her mind works — subtle, layered, deliberate,"
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the poem again. "I see it now. First letters of each stanza, natural wording… it's brilliant. She trusted someone would notice."
Theo adjusted his glasses. "It's clever. And it confirms she's aware and resourceful. She's leaving a trail that's subtle but precise. Now we know who to focus on as a suspect — Alex. And every other clue in her poems points toward where she might be."
Liam tapped on his keyboard. "East library wing, hidden corners, timestamps matching her last submissions. That's our starting point. And now, we know who to question if needed."
I felt a mix of relief and dread. The hidden message was clear, readable, and direct. Selene wasn't just leaving breadcrumbs — she was telling us *who to investigate*. And if we followed her trail carefully, we could find her.
Rhea clapped her hands lightly. "Good work, Autumn and Everyone, take note. Alex is our first concrete lead. The rest of her poems may hold more details about her location and her condition. We proceed carefully, step by step. Every word, every line matters."
I closed the notebook, feeling the weight of responsibility. Selene had trusted us to read between the lines. And now, we had our first real clue — ALEX .