Oh boy! Here we go!

Dear Reviewers:

Nny11: Thanks again! And again and again!

MlynnBloom: You know, the more I read reviews like yours, the more I realize how appreciated I am! Thank you so much for sticking around and reading. I'm not sure how many chapters I'm going to write, but I'd say at least 13. And I'm not sure where Quigs is going to fit in yet...I'll try and work him in somehow!

NewbiaTheElf: I try to update as fast as I can, I know you guys won't wait very long! And there is a reason why Duncan was a bit "particular" I guess you could say, about France. You'll just have to wait to see why...

Lady Emily: I always pictured Duncan as the one with the sense of humor, who likes to joke around with his friends a lot. (Or at least for this story.) You'll be seeing more of him!

Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl: Thank you! France is coming up, and it should be interesting...

Phoenix72389: Don't worry; like I said before, I'm still thinking about where Quigley should come in. And, yeah, I like Duncan too. :D

Okay, and I'll have to warn you, there are a few spoilers for The Grim Grotto in this chapter, and there may be more coming up in the future. Please tell me in your review if you haven't read it yet so I can avoid as many spoilers as I can! Thank you!

Well, without forcing you to wait any longer, here it is!

Chapter 8: A l l A b o a r d

"Klaus."

"Hmm?"

"Klaus!" Sunny hissed.

"What?" Klaus looked at her over the newspaper.

"Do you know who that guy over there is?" she whispered.

"What guy?" Klaus asked as he looked around the platform of the train station.

"Don't look!" Sunny said.

He quickly hid his head behind the paper. "What guy?" he asked again.

Sunny curled back a page of the newspaper so Klaus could peer at the man Sunny was indicating. He was wearing a long, dark trench coat and a hat, the brim pulled over his face.

"He keeps looking at us," Sunny whispered.

They watched the man for several moments. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, staring at the ground.

"I don't think you should worry about it," Klaus said. "He's probably just waiting for the train."

Sunny seemed unsure. She looked up at Klaus, worry in her eyes. "I don't know Klaus..." she said. "It's just...I've seen that guy before. He was at the Diner once. And I saw him walking down the street in front of the mansion."

Klaus looked at the man again, trying to decide on whether or not he should be concerned.

"I haven't caught a glimpse of his face," Sunny whispered, "but I'm sure I've seen him somewhere else."

The two glanced cautiously at the stranger, trying to see who was under the hat.

Isadora walked up to them, four tickets in her hands. "What are you guys looking at?"

Klaus shook his head, not wanting to worry her.

She glanced down at her watch. "Well, Duncan should be here any minute now. I got the tickets, and the train will be arriving shortly. Then, we'll take a taxi to the airport, and the plane should take off at about 4:30, which means we'll be there by...Oh let's see, how long will it take to fly to France..." Klaus and Sunny could tell that Isadora already had everything planned out. Her motto was, "Be on time or don't even bother."

"Hey everybody! I made it!" said a voice from behind them. The three turned around.

"Duncan!" Isadora said. She gave her brother a quick hug.

"Nice to see you again, Twitchy," Duncan said to Klaus as he shook his hand.

"You too, Duncan." Klaus stepped aside so Duncan could see his sister.

"Is this little Sunny?" Duncan asked.

Sunny nodded shyly.

"Well, for a minute I thought I was looking at Judy Garland!" he said. She blushed and looked down at her feet. He extended his hand to her.

"Duncan Quagmire, star reporter for The Daily Punctilio, although not currently on speaking terms with my editor." Sunny shook his hand. "Hey wait!" he said suddenly.

Sunny froze as Duncan looked at her face carefully. "What is this...? Oh, well would you look at that!" He pulled a coin from behind her ear. "A quarter? You know, you really shouldn't have," Duncan said, pocketing the coin. "But thanks anyway."

Sunny put a hand up to her ear, rather confused. "How did you...?"

"Ah, a magician never tells," Duncan said, and he picked up his suitcases.

Isadora laughed and Klaus shook his head, smiling.

"Well," Duncan said. "When does the train get here?"

"Any minute now," Isadora answered. As if in reply, a whistle shrieked in the distance.

It began to snow as the train grinded to a halt. They picked up their luggage and Duncan called out, "All aboard the Polar Express!"

And as they boarded the train, all Klaus could think of was how close they were to finding his sister.

Dear Dairy,

It's been pretty quiet for the majority of the ride. Sunny is amusing herself by learning how to do a few magic tricks, and Duncan is amusing himself by enjoying how easily Sunny is amused. He's probably thinking that it's about time somebody actually asked to see some of his tricks.

Isadora is reading "Les Fleurs du Mal", a book of depressing poetry, her favorite kind. I think that translates into "The Flowers of Evil." I might have to read it someday.

Which reminds me, I found out something else about Sunny. She speaks French. And Italian. And Russian, and German, and Spanish and some Dutch. When I asked her how she knew so many languages, she said she and Violet traveled a lot, and she just picked them up. Wow. Now I'm going to need a translator to understand my little sister. I guess she could come in handy when we get to France. Isadora speaks French too, which means now we're going to have two gossiping girls talking about us in another language. Great.

It's been snowing pretty hard, and I hope it doesn't delay the train. I'm worried that we won't be able to catch up with Violet on time. We just have a faint idea of where she should be. Sunny said they were going to see the Notre Dame, which means they were going to Paris. But still, Paris is a pretty big city. Violet could be almost anywhere.

"Pssst! Klaus!" Sunny whispered.

Klaus stopped writing. "What?"

Sunny silently pointed back at the booth behind them. Sitting there, hiding his face behind a newspaper, was the same man they had seen at the train station.

And now we've got a stalker.

. . .

Finally, the train slowed to a halt, and they walked out to the street to hail a cab. Klaus listened as the train howled a parting whistle. It made him a bit sad, for some reason. It sounded like it was calling for something it missed terribly.

But somehow, Klaus knew it was getting closer to finding it.

The airport was crowded, as they had predicted, it being so close to the holidays. They had almost forgotten that Sunny was still in the papers, wanted for murder, and she had to flip up her jacket's collar so most of her face was hidden. They boarded the plane without any problems, and before they could let it sink in, they were on their way to Paris, France.

The ride was a quiet one, and there was plenty of time to talk amongst each other. But nobody really had much to say, each enveloped in his or her own thoughts. Isadora was thinking about their luggage, hoping that they would all make it to Paris, and that they had brought everything they needed. Klaus was wondering where they should look for Violet once they landed, and when they should start. Sunny pondered what Violet would say when she saw her, if she would be angry, or relieved, or half-crazy. And Duncan was wrapped up in thoughts of his own.

But what worried Klaus the most was the fact that it had been so long since he had seen his sister. Why did she leave him that one day, 10 years before, at the remains of the hot-air mobile home? Had she been forced to? ...Or did she choose to?

A new fear invaded Klaus's mind.

For what reason did she keep him a secret from Sunny? Why wouldn't she want to tell her? Maybe she abandoned him on purpose. Maybe she had been trying to stay away from him this whole time.

Klaus shook his head. No, this was Violet. His older sister. She cared about him. She would do anything for her siblings. Maybe she was still the strong-willed young woman she had been when he last saw her. Maybe she had been searching for Klaus all these years. Maybe she was waiting for him, waiting to finally see him again.

But still, Klaus began to wonder.

So he pulled out a small book of photographs he kept in his pocket, and leafed through them, just like he had done so many times whenever he lost hope.

He first looked at an old, worn photograph, one that had somehow survived going through the wash several times, and was falling apart along the creases. It was a picture of his parents, along with Mr. Snicket and his brother. It had been taken quite a few years before he was born, even before his parents were married, making the photograph at least 30 years old. Klaus wondered how it still existed, after all it had been through. His parents' faces were a fading memory in his mind, and this was the last picture of them in his possession. He needed it. He needed it to remember.

The next page had a picture of he and his siblings jumping around in the snow, attempting to catch snowflakes in their mouths. It was the only photograph he had of them actually enjoying themselves. In the background were Isadora, Duncan, and their triplet Quigley, throwing snowballs at each other, laughing.

Sunny had her tiny hands up in the air, as if she was trying to grab the flakes out of the sky before they touched the ground. A 13-year-old Klaus was leaning backwards as far as he could, his mouth opened wide and his tongue sticking out, waiting for the snow to land on it. The photographer had caught Violet at the right moment. She was leaping up into the air, the white snowflakes contrasting her dark hair, and was laughing as if the fire had never occurred.

Klaus flipped the page. That was how he wanted to remember her.

The next photograph was of one solitary figure. He was tall and thin, his hands in his pockets, and he was wearing a long, black coat, making him stand out against the snow in the background. Klaus knew that in his pockets he really had hooks where his hands should have been.

His face showed no expression, he just stared blankly at the camera. But his eyes told a story. They were sorrowful and depressed, as if the light of his life had been extinguished. Klaus sadly recalled why the man looked so despondent.

"Hey, it's Ferdy!" Sunny said. Klaus hadn't known his sister had been looking at the pictures over his shoulder.

"Ferdy?" Klaus asked. "You mean Fernald?"

"Yeah," she replied. "He's younger there. He looks so sad."

"Wait, you know Fernald?"

"Uh-huh. He's a friend of my sister's. Do you know him too?"

"Yeah..." Klaus said. There were still so many questions.

Then the flight attendant announced how much closer he was to the answers when the intercom crackled to life and said that they were landing in Paris.