Can't A Girl Look At Least A bit Presentable When Meeting With God Himself

"What happened to Klaus after?" Fake Death asked, his voice echoing inside my head like a brain-built intercom. 

"I don't know!" I shouted, frantically scanning the towering shelves for any indication of the next memory I could access.

The vastness of this memory storage section was overwhelming, and I had no clear idea of where to proceed.

"Oh, right." He muttered under his breath. "I just remembered that you claimed you don't recall the previous memory happening, so the subsequent ones are obviously not something you remember."

"'Claimed'?" I repeated, frustration bubbling within me as I spun around, expecting to see Fake Death standing behind me. But there was nothing but the cold, damp air of the memory storage house. "You don't believe me?"

Fake Death made a sound as if he hesitated.

"You  don't  believe me!" I repeated, this time in declarative form and with a tinge of irritation.