Cleo Knight looked at herself in the mirror once again. She never considered herself to be particularly vain, though she had a good fashion taste. But it was not her appearance that concerned her. In fact, she barely paid attention to her reflection.

A very important customer waited in a few rooms from the restroom where she hid. He represented a respected company from the big city (or at least that's what she heard; she didn't know the company herself) and his signature could change everything. It could inject enough money into Stain'd-by-the-sea's struggling economy to have it moving again. It could save her town.

Cleo was afraid of messing up. She was a chemist, not a seller. She had enough confidence in her product, the perfect invisible ink, but not so much in her people skills. But she was the one who had to do it. There was no one else: her parents left and would never come back. She was the CEO and owner of Ink inc., and this was her job.

She washed her face once again, and thought of Jake's kind words earlier that morning before she left. "You can do this, Cleo. You have faced much worse obstacles before. You can go there and sell your ink. I believe in you."

With a deep breath, she went to the room to meet her potential customer.

Waiting for her in the meeting room was a young man, not much older than herself. He wore an impeccable business suit, and held a folder full of papers in his hands. When she entered, he was watching curiously a painting of Cleo's grandmother, the founder of Ink inc..

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, sir."

The man turned to Cleo with a gentle smile.

"Mrs. Knight. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, Mr..."

"Call me Jacques." He said, leaving the folder on the table so he could shake Cleo's hand. He had a firm handshake. "As you know, I represent a company that is very interested in your new ink."

What followed was business talk. Cleo found her initial nervousness disappearing as she showed Jacques a sample of the invisible ink, and the impressed look in his eyes showed her that she did well. He, in turn, talked about his company. Something in the way he spoke sounded familiar to Cleo. It made her feel comfortable. It made her feel she could trust him.

Still, she could not forget to be cautious, when dealing with a product like hers.

"I am sure you will understand, I need to know a little more about what uses you company intends for the invisible ink. It is my life's work and I don't want it to be used for..."

"Wicked purposes?" Jacques said, nodding. "I understand, Mrs. Knight. I am unfortunately not allowed to disclose the exact uses we intend for the invisible ink, but my superiors prepared a file that I hope will reassure you."

He took some papers from his folder and handed them to Cleo. The chemist read a few paragraphs and then turned to the man in front of her.

"What sort of company is that that you work for, Jacques?"

"Like I said to you earlier, Mrs. Knight, we are a press company."

"I am not selling you regular ink, and I am sure you don't work for a regular press company."

Something in Jacques' posture seemed to shake with that comment.

"No, I don't." He finally confessed, but didn't add anything.

"Have you always wanted to be a businessman?" Cleo asked.

"I consider myself more of a researcher."

"What do you research?"

"Anything that my superiors need me to."

"Do you like this job, Jacques?"

"Of course."

"Why do you do it?"

"Someone has to do it," Jacques said, with a smile. He had a nice smile, but it reminded Cleo more of the smiles she saw on theater or on TV than of a real smile of happiness.

She nodded and continued reading the file.

After finishing, Cleo took a pen from her pocket.

"I believe we have a deal."

Jacques nodded and smiled, and took the contract from his folder. Cleo read it carefully before signing her name over the line that read "Mrs. Cleo Knight - Ink inc.". Then she read the line below it.

"Mr. Jacques Snicket - Voracious Film Discussions Press"

She looked up at the man.

"Snicket? That's your name?"

Jacques nodded.

"Yes. And for the look on your face, I guess you knew my brother. He spent some months here a few years ago."

Cleo had no idea of what her face looked like, as she was flooded with memories. She thought she would never hear the name Snicket again. But there she was, with his... his brother! How did she not realize? She looked again at the contract, and everything made sense.

"I hope he didn't cause much trouble here," Jacques said, cautious.

"No." Cleo shook her head. "He didn't cause any trouble, he was..." A friend? An associate? Someone who tried very hard to save her life and the people she cared about and her home? A murderer, technically speaking? Lemony Snicket was many things, and even after four years since he left Stain'd-by-the-sea and her life, all of their lives, even after hours and hours, days and nights of discussing with her associates everything that happened, Cleo still did not know how to explain what he was in few words.

"He was of great help when we needed most." She finally said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Jacques nodded.

"I am glad to hear it, Mrs. Knight. Helping is the best we can hope to do in this world."

He took his own pen and signed over the line that had his name. Jacques was ready to leave when Cleo spoke again.

"When you see your brother again, could you tell him something?"

Jacques opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, and nodded.

"Tell him we miss him. He can show up whenever he wants. We can go eat at Hungry's or visit the new library. It will be nice to meet him again."

"I will do my best so this message can be delivered, Mrs. Knight."


Jacques mission was finished. He could finally leave the decaying hotel an go back to the city, where a much more comfortable room waited for him.

All he had to do in the small town of Stain'd-by-the-sea was getting that contract signed. The organization gave all the time he would need to get it, which meant he had no deadline to deliver the papers. He could afford a few more hours for some personal affairs. And it was almost time for lunch.

The Hungry's did not look anything out of ordinary. Just a small restaurant like one you could find in any neighborhood. The only unusual thing about it was that it had a small card saying "closed", despite it being lunchtime. The glass of the door didn't allow Jacques to see what was inside as more than blurred colors, but they seemed to be moving. He believed there was someone inside.

Jacques leaned down and moved his head, trying to see better through the glass. The door opened, and a young man with a perfectly white apron over his clothes stared Jacques up and down.

Jacques went back to his normal posture and cleaned his throat.

"I'm sorry, are you really closed? I was hoping to get something to eat before leaving."

The man kept staring at him, with a very serious expression.

"You're not from here."

"No. I have business with Ink inc.."

The man's expression softened for a moment.

"Who wrote The Wind in the Willows?"

Jacques frowned. The question came from nowhere and had nothing to do with their conversation, if that could even be called a conversation. The man still stared, waiting for a reply. It reminded Jacques of a secret code, like the ones he used daily in his activities as a volunteer, but it was not a code that he knew.

"Kenneth Grahame?" He replied. It was the right answer to the question, but he wasn't sure if it was the right answer to the code.

The man smiled.

"Come in." He said, opening the door fully and giving space for Jacques to enter. A delicious scent filled the place. "You're Snicket's brother, right?"

"Yes," Jacques replied, frowning. The man closed and locked the door behind them after he entered.

The restaurant was not empty. Sitting at the counter was Cleo Knight, along with a small group of people who Jacques had never seen before.

"I am Jake Knight, Cleo's husband." The man who opened the door introduced himself. He handed Jacques a business card that said "Jake Knight - Chef". He then walked to the counter. "Make yourself at home. I was just finishing the appetizer. I hope you don't have any food allergies."

"No, no," Jacques said, taking a seat between Cleo Knight and a short young woman who didn't look much younger than his brother. She had curly hair under a small hat, and was typing in a typewriter. She reminded Jacques of his brother not only in her age.

She kept typing with one hand as she took a business card from her hat. It read "Moxie Mallahan - Stain'd Newspaper".

"A journalist." He thought out loud.

"The best journalist in Stain'd-by-the-sea." She said, turning to him with a confident grin. "And I have many questions for you, Mr. Snicket."

"I don't think I have anything to say to the press," Jacques said, cautious.

"Those would not be official questions, don't worry." Said the young man sitting by Moxie's side. He reached his arm over her typewriter and gave Jacques a business card that read "Kellar Haines - Stain'd Newspaper".

"Yes, yes." Moxie quickly said. "I just write everything down for good measure. I think you can understand it, right, Mr. Snicket?"

Jacques nodded. Inside his jacket was a black notebook where he too took notes, for good measure. It was a habit his organization encouraged.

"We already met." Said the woman sitting on his other side, but she still handed him a business card that said "Cleo Knight - Chemist/CEO".

Jacques was starting to feel embarrassed for not bringing the business cards he had as part of his mission, introducing him as a businessman.

Besides Cleo Knight sat other three people. A young woman, dressed in comfortable clothes - "Ornette Lost - sculptor/firefighter" - and two young men -"Pecuchet 'Pip' Bellerophon - Taxi Driver/Librarian" and "Bouvard 'Squeak' Bellerophon - Librarian/Taxi Driver". Their occupations made him unavoidably look at them with a certain respect, despite not knowing them. It was part of how he was raised.

"My name is Jacques Snicket, as you already know." He said to all present, while Jake served the appetizers. "And I am-"

"A researcher," Cleo said with a smile.

"And a volunteer." Moxie added.

Jacques lowered his head, trying not to look at any of those people. He was a part of a secret organization, with emphasis on secret. Being exposed was never good or pleasant.

But those seemed good people. He looked at the business cards resting on the table. Could he trust them?

"You all knew my brother?" He asked.

There was silence for a moment.

"We were allies once." Said Kellar.

"Or so he told us," Moxie added, in a tone that was sad and bitter. She took a small notebook from her pocket, and from inside of it a small, old business card.

"Lemony Snicket - apprentice"

"I see," Jacques said, as Moxie put the card back inside the notebook.

"We haven't seen him since he left," Ornette said.

"We got the package he promised delivered to the library, but he never sent any news after that." Said Pecuchet.

"We never heard any more from him, or from the people who worked with him," Cleo said. "Until now."

"How is he? Is he alright?" Moxie asked.

"As far as I know, he is," Jacques replied.

"What do you mean, 'as far as I know'?" Kellar asked.

Jacques sighed.

"I mean I haven't seen him in a long time. And it has been even longer since I last had the chance to talk to him." He turned to Cleo. "I am sorry, Mrs. Knight. I promised I would do my best to get your message to him, but the truth is I have no idea of when I will see Lemony again."

"But you are his brother!" Bouvard whined.

Jacques closed his eyes and lowered his head. He was not one to cry, he would not cry. He was stronger than this.

"I am. And as his brother, his older brother, I should never have allowed him to get into so much trouble. But I couldn't-" His voice broke, and he had to pause to recover it. "I couldn't do much back then and I still can't do much right now. He won't let me get close to him again. He won't let anyone. He changed. And part of it is my fault, for having failed as his brother."

Jacques didn't cry, or at least he didn't let any tear fall, but his voice was weak and his eyes were read. Every official attempt at finding Lemony in the last four years had failed. Every extra-official attempt had also failed, though some of his closest friends managed to at least talk to him before he ran away again. Jacques had tried more than anyone else to find his brother, more even than Kit, but he never got even a greeting from him. It hurt. His parents only asked one thing of him, and it seemed he could do everything except it. What worth was it being such a praised volunteer if he couldn't take care of his own siblings?

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was Moxie.

"You can't blame yourself for everything that went wrong. You are doing your best. It's not your fault if he won't accept your help."

Something in her voice showed Jacques that Moxie knew exactly how he felt.

"We don't know him as well as you do, but we know that he is not a very open person," Kellar said.

Jacques showed a small smile. Those words were not enough to erase four years of guilt, but they eased some of his pain. And so he ate the most delicious meal he had ever eaten, and talked with those people who he barely knew, but who knew his little brother better than he would have expected. They talked a lot, about Lemony, about Stain'd-by-the-sea, about legends and about food and about Cleo's ink, as well as everyone else's occupations. They gave Jacques some reading recommendations that he wrote down in his commonplace book, and he returned the favor with some of his own that Moxie wrote with her typewriter. They found some books that they all have read and talked about those too. Jacques even told them about some friends in the city that would love to meet them, and they assured him that any friend of his would be welcome there.

It was already dark when he left the Hungry's, not without Jake packing him some food for dinner, and the librarians assuring him that he could take a look at Lemony's report, or at least the part they had, whenever he wished. He knew by the time he left he would know that small group of people better, but he didn't expect that he would know his own brother better as well. He called them allies. Associates. Lemony was not one to throw these words around lightly, though his definition was less strict than the one of others in their organization. If he called them that, it was because he trusted them, and Jacques could see why.

He spent the night in the decaying hotel (that he saw with different eyes after learning it belonged to Ornette's family, and a little of its story), and he was alone and far away from those he loved, but as he ate the dinner that Jake prepared for him, and thought of the afternoon with those fine people, he felt more at home than he had felt in years.


Before the sun even could rise, Jacques packed his things and drove out of Stain'd-by-the-sea. But instead of driving towards the city, he drove in the opposite direction. They allowed him to take the time he needed. His mission was already fulfilled, but there was one other place that he wanted to visit before going back, a place that he never knew when he would have the chance to see.

It was not a place that called visitors. The road ended abruptly on what had once been a cliff, where there was only a small wooden house, probably abandoned not much after the disaster. In front, only a huge mass of water. It housed no fishes nor other creatures that usually lived on water. Some said it was too salty, others that it was polluted. Jacques was no scientist but he guessed it had to do with the fact that this mass of water was not natural, it was never supposed to be there, and maybe 15 years was too little time for a new eco-system to form. He could be wrong. No one had much interest in search what lurked under those waters, that covered the remains of the village of Killdeer Fields. No one had much interest in even getting near there, but in that morning it seemed Jacques was wrong. Because besides himself there was another figure there. He was the last person he expected to see there, but at the same time, it made sense. They had the same link to that place.

The young man sat on the fence of the abandoned house, looking at the waters. Jacques approached slowly, afraid the figure could disappear or run away at any second. Considering his personal experience, it could happen. Neither of them said any greeting as Jacques sat beside his brother on the fence.

"Did you know that this house used to belong to a brilliant naturalist?" Was the first thing Lemony said. "He used to live here with his daughter, until four or five years ago, when he went missing."

Jacques gave a look at the house. He never met the people who lived there, and if he did he wouldn't remember.

"Do you want some help picking the lock?" Jacques asked, imagining his brother was investigating the former owners of the house, for whatever reason, and remembering he was never good at it.

Lemony looked at him, frowning. Jacques felt a happiness he could not describe. He thought he would never have the chance to face his brother again.

"It's not nice to invade other people's houses."

"An exception can be made if the people are gone."

Lemony looked back at the water.

"The naturalist is gone, but the daughter is still somewhere. She would not like me here."

Jacques nodded. He had many questions, but he feared that asking them would give his brother a reason to run. Instead, it was Lemony who asked a question.

"How did you know I would be here?"

"I didn't," Jacques replied, honestly. "I had a mission not so far and I thought I could use the chance to visit. We were born here, you know."

"You were born here." Lemony rolled his eyes. "I was born on a dairy farm."

"By accident," Jacques added, as he always did.

"An accident that is part of my story." Lemony took a notebook from his pocket. It was older and seemed to be used much more often than Jacques'. It was messier too. "A story that I am having a hard time to piece together."

"Why don't you try asking someone who is a part of it?"

"I don't know who I can trust," Lemony said, not taking his eyes off his notes.

"Can't you trust your own family?"

Lemony's silence hurt more than any words could.

Jacques sighed. He looked into the waters, knowing it was impossible to see where their home used to be, but still wishing he could.

Lemony eventually followed his sight.

"I don't remember anything from this place. No matter how much I try, I can't."

"That's because you were a baby when we left."

"I was not a baby," Lemony said, frowning.

"You were a baby. Check the files."

"I can't trust VFD files."

It was Jacques' turn to frown.

"VFD raised you."

"No. You raised me. You and Kit." Lemony closed his notebook. "VFD gave me something, but I am not sure if it's something I want. Or like."

"You can't run away forever."

"I can try." Lemony sighed. "There's something going on. We can't trust everyone in the organization anymore. Not everyone is fighting for the same goal."

Jacques gave a sad nod.

"We have known this for a while."

"It's bigger than they ever let we know. There has been inside fighting for a long time. And who did they use to fight their battles?"

"Who they always use. The children. I know, Lemony. We all know."

"Then how can you be so calm?" Lemony stood up and stared down at Jacques with fear and anger in his eyes.

Jacques held his arms, both as an attempt at comfort and as a way of preventing him from running away. He seemed ready to anytime now.

"I am not calm, believe me. We are all anything but calm. But if we all run off doing whatever each think is the best, things will only get much worse. Everything will be alright, but only if we stay together. Is this why you are running away?"

Lemony shook his head. His hands trembled.

"It's okay to be scared, Lemony."

"I am not scared, I'm just..." He sat down on the ground, facing the water. "I'm not sure of where I belong anymore."

Jacques put a hand on his shoulder.

"No matter what happens, there is one place where you will always belong. With us, with your family, at home."

"Our home burned. And flooded."

"Home is not a place, Lemony. Home is wherever you can be with the people who love you." He gave a pat on his brother's shoulder. "And you may have forgotten, but there are a lot of people who love you. I have an apartment in the city. Nothing fancy, but it is what I can afford with a journalist salary. Kit lives near the library, it's a lovely place. Beatrice has her parents' old house, and she misses you very much. If you want to stay out of the city, you could even stay with Ramona in Winnipeg. And", Jacques took something from his pocket. Business cards. He handed them to Lemony. "I just met a lovely group of young people who would love to see you again."

Seeing the cards, Lemony started crying.

"I can't go back there. Not after what I did."

"Yes, you can! Of course you can. Stop being a baby, Lemony Snicket. So, you made some mistakes. Like everyone. You can't just run away, crying and feeling guilty for the rest of your life." Lemony seemed about to protest, but Jacques was having none of it. "There may come a day when you will have no choice but to be alone, because everyone you love will be gone. Until then, don't waste the chances you have. A lot of people love you."

Lemony nodded, still crying, and still holding the business cards.

Jacques stood up.

"So. I have a car and I have no deadline. I can drive you wherever you wish."

After some moments to calm his tears, Lemony stood up too.

"No. I need to do something on my own."

"Lemony..."

"I will go back! I promise you, Jacques. I just need to finish some things. Give me one month, two months, and I will go back." Lemony gave a sad look to the water, and another to the abandoned house.

Jacques sighed. There was one thing he hoped didn't change about his brother: how seriously he took his promises.

"Two months. Or I will send the whole organization after you."

He was not of enough high ranking to do it, by official means, but there were ways. Ways that would stain his brother's reputation forever. Ways that he really hoped he would not have to use.

"Two months." Lemony nodded. "I promise. In two months I will go back home."

Jacques looked at his brother for a moment, before pulling him into a tight hug.

"Stay alive until then." He whispered.

"Don't worry. I am good at it." Lemony replied.

Jacques broke the hug.

"And go visit your friends." He pointed to the business cards. "It's a blessing to find good people like them. Don't let your stupidity make you lose them."

Lemony nodded.

"Two months," Jacques said one last time, before walking back to his car.

He needed a moment before starting the engine. He would not cry, he was not one to cry. But there was nothing wrong with crying. Some of the people he admired most cried all the time. And Lemony could not see him through the dark windows of his car. He was alone right now, there was no need to be the strong volunteer, the strong older brother. Just a moment. Just one tear, maybe two.

Two months. Lemony took his promises seriously. Jacques believed that if nothing went wrong, in two months his brother would go back home.