Violet wrapped her coat more securely around her thin figure. Even after Count Olaf's death, her tragic experiences had made her unusually wary, and her dark eyes darted suspiciously from side to side. The cold winds stung her exposed cheeks, staining them a light pink. She walked quickly, purposefully, not even glancing at her former home.
The huge penthouse had burnt down from a mysterious fire, beginning at the lower level and quickly consumed the 48-84 levels above; the last, as it had been on the very top level, had been the Squalor penthouse, with its majestic view, libraries and tool benches. It wasn't very tragic for the Baudelaires simply because they didn't have many good memories of their stay.
It did arouse mysteries, however, such as the arsonist whom may have done such a terrible thing, or why. And such mysteries were what had begun the dreary life of the orphans, from the fire of their own home to the fire they had help start in the Hotel Denouement.
Violet's steps suddenly slowed from their former brisk pace at the remembrance as to why she was here. One's parents' murder is not typically a thing that one keeps at the top of their mind, and the three siblings had chosen not to speak or talk about such a thing by an unspoken agreement. It had arisen few times, but such tragedy is not a usual topic.
However, Violet, after such few opportunities to come to terms with their passing, had needed to come to 667 Dark Avenue. It wasn't something she particularly wanted to do, but something she convinced herself she needed. And it was indeed.
By now, Violet was walking as she would in a large tub of sticky molasses, almost as though in slow motion. Warm tears started trickling down her cheeks; she made no effort to stop them as she stopped completely at the sight in front of her.
Oh stop your crying it'll be alright.
A pile of ashes. Ashes. It stood for everything she held dear, everything she lost, everything that was still to come. Fire had tracked the Baudelaires, leaving tragedy and destruction in its wake. The orange flames had lapped at their lives, like a picture curling into gray cinders. So many were gone as a result of Count Olaf and his fires: their parents, Uncle Monty, Aunt Josephine, Dewey Denouement, the Quagmire parents, their homes…. How can an invention, her forte, be the cause of these horrible events?
She wiped her eyes with her coat sleeves and sat down, not caring as gray dust coated her clothing. She pulled her jean-covered knees to her face, pressing her cheeks to the rough fabric. It scratched her cheeks and she neither noticed nor cared, continuing to sob furiously.
Her siblings had not been brought along on her expedition, left with Quigley and Isadora. Duncan had perished as one of the secret guests of the Hotel Denouement, and therefore, the fact that, in all honesty, the Baudelaires had killed him, had been kept a secret from both triplets left.
"It's okay, Violet." She recognized the voice immediately, but didn't raise her face until he sat down next to her in the remains of the Baudelaire home.
Just take my hand, hold it tight.
I will protect you from all around you,
She buried her tear stained face in Quigley's shoulder, he rubbed her quaking back soothingly. "It's okay; it'll all be okay…" But it wasn't, for Violet lifted her head and said, still covered in tears and shaking with sobs: "It's not okay, Quigley! They're gone!" It was all she could manage before ducking back into his shoulder. This time Quigley turned slightly, so Violet landed in his chest and he could hug her fully. He kissed the top of her hair and held her.
"I'm here though, Violet. I'll protect you."
I will be here, don't you cry.
For one so small, you seem so strong,
My arms around you keep you safe and warm.
"I….know…" It was muffled, but Quigley could hear it. The deserted street grew darker, and still the couple remained, Violet with a pounding headache from her racking sobs, Quigley waiting for them to subdue. Finally the dark haired girl lifted her head and gazed at Quigley. "Thank you." Her acknowledgment of his devotion, and also her proposition that Violet's breakage never be mentioned again. He nodded to both meanings, and they started hand in hand back home.
This bond between us can't be broken,
I will be here, don't you cry.
Before the doorbell had even had a chance to finish ringing, Klaus was upon it, looking through the peephole in a paranoid way, but sighing with relief at who it was. Locks were clicked, and Violet's brother flung his arms around the both of them briefly before welcoming them in.
They had sailed away from the island on Violet's eighteenth birthday to claim their fortune, and Isadora had claimed the famous Quagmire sapphires. She however, had chosen to keep the precious jewels in the bank for safety, agreeing to use it if needed but to live off the Baudelaires' at the moment.
Quigley was engaged to Violet, using a real Quagmire sapphire for her engagement ring; Klaus and Isadora were dating. Sunny was nearing her seventh birthday, and she was doing an excellent job of taking care of Beatrice. The honey-haired toddler was very adventurous, but the Quagmires and Baudelaires weren't very enthused about letting the infant they had raised join VFD knowing all the trouble it had caused.
Cause you'll be in my heart,
Yes, you'll be in my heart.
Violet hugged her little brother and Sunny, who had appeared at the door, grasping a wide-eyed Beatrice by the hand, who was dressed in blue and purple spotted footie pajamas. "Vilet!" She shouted excitedly, hugging her guardian around the knees, the highest point she could reach. Violet bent down and patted Beatrice on the back, kissing her tiny blonde head. Both her father and mother were gone too, and Violet was more appreciative of her pain than ever before after having such a reminder as seeing the remains of her precious parents and home.
From this day on, now and forevermore,
You'll be in my heart.
Some had jeered, like what was left of Count Olaf's comrades, at the triplets and siblings taking on an orphan. But Violet had been firm, cradling Kit's child as though her own, the offspring with her mother as a namesake. And Beatrice had grown up into a beautiful young child, loving her family and never questioning the number.
No matter what they say,
You'll be here in my heart,
Always.