Kit Snicket made her way back to where her taxi waited. She wiped the last tears from her face, assuming again her facade of the perfect, confident volunteer. Times were hard, and showing her insecurities would do no good. Her associates needed someone strong, someone they could trust. Especially younger associates, like the Baudelaires or Quigley Quagmire. There weren't many left to take this role.
When she got to the car, she saw someone was already waiting for her. She noticed the other taxi parked near hers. She also noticed that the man standing there wore items of VFD's disguise kit. But she could not recognize who he was under them.
She approached cautiously, as he watched her with an unreadable expression.
"Kit!" He called. "Finally."
His voice sounded familiar to Kit, like the voice of someone she hadn't met in years, but she knew better than to trust him only by it. Once, many years ago, she heard of a notorious villain who could perfectly mimic anyone's voice. This man could be anyone.
He noticed her hesitation. One hand went to his fake mustache, as if he considered taking it off. He looked around, remembering it was not safe, and sighed.
"Please get in the car. I will drive you to your assignment." He said, disappointment clear in his voice.
Kit was still suspicious as she watched the man enter her taxi, as if he had every right to do so. She never liked being driven by someone. There was no guarantee she would arrive at her destination if her driver was not trustable. Kit had no idea if she could trust an obviously disguised man with a vaguely familiar voice that acted as if he didn't have to prove anything to her.
Against her best judgment, she entered the car.
She could see the man had already made himself at home in her taxi, as a box with what was certainly his belongings rested beside her on the back seat. She took a peek inside. It is not polite to go through someone else's belongings without their permission, even if as quickly as Kit did, unless one really needs to learn someone's identity quickly before he drives them to some sinister place.
"I thought you had received my messages. Didn't have time to visit a library recently?"
Kit froze, partly because of his words, partly because of what she saw inside the box, and mainly because she realized who the man was, or who he wanted her to believe he was.
If he was who he was trying to imply he was, he would know Kit Snicket always found time to visit a library, no matter how desperate times were, an expression that here means "even while distraught and pregnant and working on a mission on which the future of their organization, all volunteers and everyone she loved depended". Just as he would know Kit Snicket would never skip a chapter of a book she was reading, no matter how boring or pointless it seemed to be, and no matter how many times the author himself asked the reader to do it, and specially if said author was or wanted her to believe he was her younger brother. She had been to the library not too long ago in search of that specific book - of which a copy was inside the box, besides another book that Kit had used to read often when she was younger - and she had read every page of it. She had gotten the hidden letter addressed to her, so she quickly understood what the mysterious driver wanted to imply.
It had been a shock the first time she saw a book published under the name of her supposedly dead brother. When she spent a sleepless night with a copy of The Bad Beginning, she felt as if L was back, right beside her, telling her a story just like he used to, with his usual tone, his annoying habit of defining words, his unusual sense of humor and his weird tangents. She cried all night.
Kit wanted to let herself believe that her brother was alive. It would not be something unheard of, for L to come back from his grave. He had been reported dead more times than any normal person should, even someone from their organization. Despite being the most reclusive of the three siblings, L was the one who always managed to appear on the news.
That's why Kit never believe anything about L that she didn't hear directly from him (though he had a habit of hiding important information, so she didn't believe all she heard from him either). She never believed he committed any of the crimes he was accused of. She wasn't sure he was really dead. She couldn't believe he was alive just because she found a book supposedly written by him.
Jacques had decided to investigate the matter. He went after Beatrice's children, knowing that wherever they were, L would not be far behind. He never managed to send the results of his investigations to Kit, nor to anyone else as far as she knew.
Things got more complicated since then.
More books got published, but they approached a dangerous territory. The author spilled secrets that many people would rather stay as secrets, people from both sides of the schism. The higher ups didn't want Kit to get involved in this mystery. Her friends didn't want her involved either. Even Dewey begged her to stay away, worried about both her feelings and her safety.
Kit knew they were right. Whoever was behind those books had an agenda to reveal VFD's secrets for reasons no one could understand. It was easy to see how using a dead man's (or supposedly dead man's) name would benefit them. Even if it was L, VFD couldn't tell if he could still be trusted. Since his young years, L was always known for following his own judgment and instincts, rather than orders and plans. Kit considered this a remarkable trait, if only sometimes troublesome, but other volunteers considered it dangerous. And there were still the accusations against him. Kit didn't doubt his innocence, but she was one of the only ones to.
There was still a high chance it wasn't even him. Even if the writing sounded so much like him, even if the text was filled with flashes of L's life. Many people had known L well during his youth, and many others could research about it. D for example, an associate that had always been close to L and happened to have business in the same publishing company responsible for L's supposed books. Or someone L had met while out of the city, or out of the country.
It could be anyone, and Kit was afraid she could have fallen into a trap. But she caught another look into the box, where The Slippery Slope rested along with the book she used to keep on her bedside table a couple of years before she and L left the headquarters for their apprenticeship. They were together with a big and old-looking journal, from which papers poked out. It seemed near to explode with all the information it contained. But what occupied most of the box was not the books or the commonplace book. It was a small accordion.
Kit saw that the man stared at her from the rearview mirror, and she stared back. She wanted to see some familiarity in these eyes, she wanted to see her mother's eyes, L's eyes.
It had been 13 years since Kit had last seen L in person. She had very few pictures of any of her family members, most of them lost in one or another of the many fires that marked their lives. One of her most prized possessions was a picture of her and Jacques smiling, looking very young and very happy in front of a building that didn't exist anymore. She kept it in her commonplace book, where it was safer than anywhere else. She had no pictures of her parents, though she suspected some still existed somewhere in VFD's archives, maybe taken after one of their many successful missions. Pictures of L existed, and she had some, but even before everything in their lives started going so wrong, he never liked facing the camera. All Kit could see in them was the silhouette of a man she wished she would one day see again.
Kit could barely remember anything about her parents. She only remembered she and Jacques had their father's eyes, and L had their mother's. Her memories of L were also slowly fading, and she was afraid one day she would not remember what he looked like anymore.
"I know who you want me to believe you are." She finally said, betraying no emotion in her voice.
"You don't believe I am who I want you to believe I am?" He frowned.
"L is dead." Even just saying it hurt. Kit didn't want to believe it was true, but that was not the time for what she wanted.
The man's gaze dropped for a moment, before returning to the road ahead.
"So it was reported." He said, in an unreadable voice. "How did he die?"
Kit knew it was not a question, but a challenge. No one knew how L died this time. Both the public reports in the news and the official VFD reports about the matter were very vague and not very informative.
Kit was also forbidden from getting involved in this matter.
"He would have contacted me sooner."
"He would." The man nodded. "But it would have been hard, especially if the people who first spread the word of his death wanted him to remain 'dead' for all that concerned the volunteers."
"Who would have wanted L dead."
"His enemies. People who rightfully hate him. People who think he is dangerous. People who want to ruin his reputation so the public won't believe his words. And... people who want to protect him from them."
"I don't understand."
The man sighed, a sad sound.
"Many people would want your brother to be really dead. And many people would want to publish lies about him. In fact, many people have tried to do both, you might recall. And maybe he has come to accept this is how things will always be. 'This' here means 'running away and hiding and being a danger to anyone who is near him'."
He paused, and Kit felt sad. Well, sadder than usual. Even if this man was an impostor, what he described was just how L's life had become, for all she knew. She couldn't imagine how lonely he must have felt, maybe still felt.
The man continued in a soft tone, barely above a whisper.
"Maybe he recently realized that there are some advantages to being a myth, rather than a man. You would know about that, right, Ms. Snicket?"
The way he referred to her felt unnatural, even if she couldn't be sure of who he was, or if he was who he wanted her to believe he was.
Kit looked down at her belly, where her baby was growing, and thought of Dewey and his work and the secrets they hid together. She would know about that. She did know.
"Why would he risk himself to meet me now?"
"Because he misses you." The driver's voice betrayed him, showing a deep sadness, or a great ability to fake a deep sadness. "And he wants to apologize for all the times he let you down."
Kit could see in the rearview that his eyes were teary, and she couldn't be sure if his tears were real or fake, but she knew her own were real.
"L knows he doesn't need to apologize to me."
"He knows." The man nodded. "But he will keep doing it."
Kit didn't reply. She felt as if her heart was being ripped in half, filled with confusion, guilt, and grief. She could be treating her brother like a stranger, or she could be letting a stranger manipulate her using her feelings for her brother.
A thought crossed her mind, a thought that all volunteers had at some point in their lives, but that Kit managed to keep in the back of her mind most times. It was a thought and a wish, a wish that she and her brothers had never been taken, that they could have had a normal childhood and a normal adulthood. So there would be no dark secrets or conspiracies in their lives, and Jacques would still be alive, and she wouldn't have to ask herself who exactly wanted Lemony dead or where was he right now, and she would be able to spend her pregnancy resting and being cared for, and the three siblings would be safe and happy and would meet every Sunday and argue over who cheated on a board game. Life would be simple, and her child would grow up surrounded by their family.
But there was no use in clinging to such thoughts, because thinking and wishing wouldn't change anything. She was living in desperate times, and she had to do all she could so her baby would live in a world at least a little quieter, a little safer.
Kit noticed the car stopped, and she was indeed back to the beach, where her latest assignment would start. The man really took her there, which showed two things. The first was that at least one of the things he said was true. The second was that he knew about her assignment.
"There is another reason I came." He suddenly said. "I know about Thursday."
"Of course you know." Kit said bitterly, pointing accusingly to The Slippery Slope. "You told the whole country about it!"
The man turned to her with a sheepish expression, and the pain in Kit's heart grew stronger.
"It is a way to get word of it to more of our allies."
"It gets word of it to more of our enemies too."
"Our enemies have never been much into reading." He said with a smile.
The ghost of a smile appeared on Kit's face. She once believed it, but things were not as simple anymore.
"Things are not as simple anymore. Everyone is keeping an eye on your work."
The man gave a slow, sad nod.
"I also know about the delivery that is to take place at the Hotel. Both of them."
He was not supposed to know that. The delivery of the sugar bowl was of knowledge of most volunteers, and unfortunately of many firestarters as well. But the second delivery, the real delivery of the sugar bowl, was a secret known only by Dewey, Kit and another trusted associate, whose mission was to retrieve it in case the meeting was to be canceled.
The man saw the confusion on Kit's face.
"I was assigned the mission of retrieving the package in case the meeting is canceled."
No, he was not. Kit may not be sure if that man was her brother, but she could clearly see he was not a duchess.
"I am working with R." He said, as if reading her thoughts. "She took the other taxi. She may have already lead our enemies to the other side of the city by now."
R would not change plans without telling Kit first. Not a plan so important and so dangerous. She would not bring just anyone into it either.
But L, if he was alive, would give anything to be on that mission. So many troubles started with the sugar bowl, with the questionable choice L made that fateful evening. Kit never blamed him for that, neither did Beatrice nor R, but L did. He felt guilty for all tragedies that followed, and if he had the chance to participate in finishing the sugar bowl's story once and for all, he would take it. And R loved L as if he was her own brother. If she could give him that chance, she would.
But he still could be an impostor, and it frightened Kit to think of how he could have gotten the information about the mission.
She once again looked into the man's eyes, looking for familiarity. The idea that R could have recognized him while Kit couldn't was almost as bad as the thought of what could happen if their enemies knew of the real future location of the sugar bowl.
"If R trusted you." Kit said, which was here an answer that didn't mean anything.
"There is a reason why I'm telling you this, Ms. Snicket."
Again, it felt uncomfortable being called that. She considered asking the man to call her K, but only those who knew her during her training days called her that outside of official meetings, or Kit, like he did at first, but only those she trusted or those who wanted to piss her off called her that. For a moment, she even wondered how it would feel to hear him call her Kitty, but her baby brother was the only one who could get away with calling her that, and hearing it from anyone else would make her very uncomfortable.
"What reason is that?"
The man remained in silence for a few moments.
"Don't go on this mission, Kit."
Kit didn't know what shocked her most, the request or the slip on how he called her.
He sounded like L. He sounded so much like L that Kit could have jumped on his arms, which would be awkward inside the taxi, before slapping him and shouting, asking him what took him so long to show up.
She could have, but she didn't, because the man asked her to leave her mission and that was something she would never do, not even for L.
"I can't."
"Take the taxi and go back to the Hotel. Take my mission, and I will take yours."
Kit shook her head.
"Widdershins will never listen to you, especially if you are who you say you are."
The man hesitated.
"I have... allies in the sea, Kit." He said, and Kit once again loved how her name sounded coming from him, how right it sounded. However, his tone was dark, darker than it should have been with those words, and she didn't like it. "I will find a way to do it. Stay in the city and help R with the sugar bowl. You should not go on such a dangerous trip in your condition."
"Being distraught and pregnant does not make me weak!"
"It doesn't." He gave her a faint smile. "But you must think of the baby."
"I know what I'm doing, L!"
Kit left the car and slammed the door behind her. She called him L. She was accepting he was really her brother, and she didn't know how to feel about it.
He followed her. Kit turned to him, and for a moment she could see her mother's eyes.
"If my brother was alive, he would trust me."
"He trusts you." The man said softly. "He knows you can do anything you put your mind to. He only worries too much."
In spite of everything, Kit let out a laugh.
"He always does." She approached the man, until they were close enough to hold each other, but moved no further. "We will meet on Thursday, and you can explain to me everything."
"You know as well as I do that Thursday's meeting will be canceled."
Kit lowered her eyes. She knew.
"Then we will meet somewhere else, some other day."
The man sighed.
"How many people have we said these same words to?" Before never meeting them again, he didn't need to add.
"What else can we do?" Kit whispered, her voice breaking.
Kit almost closed the distance between them for a hug. She missed him. But her duty as a volunteer came first, and it was still not over. She turned away, looking into the sea.
"Good luck on your mission. Don't get distracted by your sentimentalism."
"Good luck to you too." He said, resting his hand on her shoulder. It only lasted a moment, soon it was gone.
Kit took a deep breath and started her walk towards the sea. The man watched her with an unreadable expression. She didn't need to look back to know he was watching, and would keep watching until she disappeared under the waves.