So...here's the sequel to 'Everywhere', also known as .

Yep.

Here we go...

Klaus Baudelaire was looking at me, transfixed by my face. "Isadora," he whispered.

          I smiled at him and he smiled back. Yes?"

          "I love you. You're so beautiful." I smiled bigger. As we leaned together, our lips touched and —

          "Isadora! Wake up!" My brother's voice echoed off unfamiliar walls. "They've all left!"

          "Huh? Who?"

          "Count Olaf and all those other people! Now we're just alone in this creepy tower! Why're you sleeping all the time?! I thought you were dead!"

          "You did?" I asked sleepily.

          "Yeah, except dead people don't go 'wow Klaus, you're a good kisser!'"

          I was awake. I sat up, glared Duncan, and looked around. We were in a cramped room. All over the room, in paintings, on the wallpaper, on the floor tiles, carved into the windowsill, and stitched onto the windows was an image of an eye.

          "Wow. This place is freaky," I muttered, standing up and stretching.

          Duncan snorted. "Try being stuck in it all by yourself with a triplet who thinks she's snogging someone instead of being kidnapped."

          "Okay, okay. I'm awake now." I went over to the window. "Yeek!" I screeched. "Duncan look! We're way high up!"

          "I already saw," he said. "They dragged us up the stairs while you were fantasizing about making out."

          "Did I really say that? Did they hear me?"

          "Yes, you did, and no, they didn't. It was too soft for them to hear. But I did. Not that I don't wish I didn't."

          "Okay! Leave me alone!" I leaned out the window again. Next door, somebody was watering flowers in a straw hat. "You think if I yell, that gardener person'll hear me?"

          "No, I tried. We're too high up, and there's nothing they could do."

          I rubbed my fore head and sat down on a cushion shaped like an eye. "How long did I sleep?"

          "Forever. They stopped the car, took us up here, and gave us some food." The word 'food' made my stomach leap with anticipation. I realized I was hungry.

          "Food? Where?"

          "Calm down. It's just crackers." He pointed to a grubby box of those wheat crackers that only taste good with something else.

          "Eww. I hate that kind. Remember that party we went to—before the fire—and I ate, like, fifteen of those with that stuff on them and I got that rash on my toe?"

          "Of course I remember. You stayed up whining about it all night."

          "It felt like somebody was sawing off my toe, layer of skin by layer of skin, with a plastic knife."

          "God, I feel sick enough already. Thanks so much," he said sarcastically.

          "Shut up."

          "You shut up."

          "YOU shut up!"

          "God!"

          "That's my name, don't wear it out."

          He rolled his eyes and we stared at each other for a long time. Suddenly, we heard distant footsteps.

          The lock clicked open and I seized Duncan's foot. It was the closet thing near me. He leaned over and we clung to each other as Count Olaf stepped in. He had a greedy look of triumph on his face.

          "I've just found out where your little friends have been dumped. I think I'll pay them a visit. And you can come, too. A nice little trip. Get them!" He stepped aside, and the fat person entered, carrying a cage.

          "Ohmigod, omigod," I whispered, as the two powdery woman stuffed us into it. I struggled and thrashed around, until we were in it, because we couldn't struggle or thrash in the cage.

          The fat person carried the stage down the stairs and put it in the backseat of the car. They locked the doors. Count Olaf started to drive, and the guy with hooks for hands sat in the passenger seat. Suddenly, everything got dark. They had covered the cage with a sheet of canvas.

          "Isadora?" I heard Duncan's whisper, frightened.

          " Yeah?"

          "Don't fall asleep."

          I smiled weakly. Then I passed out.