Chapter 2- The One Inside the Box is You

Fiona walked hastily. She was scared that another man might ask her for her services. She had put up with it enough. She was sick and tired. She had no idea where she would live, but she quit. This time, for good.

She walked down the dark alley that she'd walked down for years. But on this day, it felt more eerie than before. It felt colder, even darker, and she swore she could faintly hear a familiar voice. Her mother's sweet voice. Singing her favorite lullaby. Fiona's arms became covered in goosebumps as her mother's voice grew fainter, until it was nothing more than a sweet whisper.

"Mama?" Fiona whispered. The voice was gone. Fiona knew she had imagined it. But the voice she'd heard had sounded so real.

Fiona kept walking. She didn't know where she was walking to, only that she was running away from her problems. Like the coward she was. She pushed up her glasses higher onto her face. It was early dawn when Fiona came to the graveyard. It was a small one. She decided to go in. She hated graveyards, but she needed a moment to think. She read a tombstone. And another. But one caught her eye.

Violet Samantha Baudelaire

Febuary 12, 1928- October 7, 1944

Loving daughter and sister

Fiona couldn't believe her eyes. Violet Baudelaire was dead. What had happened to her? The beautiful, brown haired, slim girl that Fiona had utterly detested. Tears welled up in Fiona's eyes. Perhaps everyone had kicked the bucket. Even her beloved Klaus.

The nurse sneaked into Klaus' room. It was well past midnight, but Klaus was awake. The young man never seemed to sleep. Only mutter nonsensical things to himself. He was sitting in his chair, staring outside at the rain. He was muttering something.

"Klaus?" the nurse whispered. Klaus turned around to see the nurse. She looked even more pale in the darkness.

"What do you want?" Klaus said, staring into her brown eyes.

"Do you need something?" she said, trying to comfort him. Klaus shrugged and kept staring outside. He began muttering to himself. The doctor came in at that moment.

"What are you doing here Mary?" he asked the nurse, "It's way past the end of your shift."

"I was just checking on Klaus, Dr. Winters," Mary said. "I'll be leaving now." Mary's heels clicked as she left. Dr. Winters stared at Klaus, deep hatred in his eyes.

"Listen, you little piece of shit," Dr. Winters said. "Don't make Mary stay late for you. You're a little player, aren't you?"

"I know what you've done to her," Klaus said, his expression remaining the same. "She's so scared of you."

"You're an evil person, Klaus Baudelaire. You murdered your sisters."

Klaus' face got red, but he didn't say a word as Dr. Winters left the room. No one would ever know why Klaus Baudelaire had murdered his sisters.

"There's a letter for you," Regina, Isadora's secretary, said. "It's on your desk."

"Thanks Regina!" Isadora said, coming into her office. Isadora could not believe what she had become. A doctor. Of all the things in the world, Isadora never thought she would become a doctor. She hated her job, but she needed a way to make money. She'd always wanted to become a poet. She'd grown up with Emily Dickenson and Edgar Allan Poe and found their poems beautiful. Isadora had a natural gift for poetry. And she'd thrown it out the window just to become a doctor.

She opened the letter.

Dear Miss. Quagmire,

My name is Dr. Winters. I have not met you before, but I know your name because a young man keeps talking about you. I work at a mental institution and a Klaus Baudelaire is here. He keeps talking about you and I'd like him to see you. I'd also like to know everything you know about him. Thank you,

Dr. Winters.

So Klaus was alive. But in an institution. Isadora stared at the letter. What had he done that had been so bad? Isadora pondered over the matter and stared out of the window, unknowingly staring at Klaus, who was staring back at her,like he'd done every day.