Thanks for all the reviews everyone! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

blueacorn5- I do like your suggestions. Maybe you should try writing a story about Esme. I don't see too many of those. Or… The Littlest Elf? I don't know.

PrincessElionwy- I like your pen name. It's pretty. Where did you get it? Too bad your friend shows no sympathy for characters. I guess it doesn't really matter though. They don't know when you're sympathetic for them anyway.

ASOUEFAN- I predict you'll find out who's talking to Lemony very soon.

PearlGirl- Hey E! I have a billion tests this week in school. Did you get a snow day on 1/10/05? I didn't. Your ideas about the family tree are so much better than anything I could come up with. Grrr! I want to read your new LOTR story! Don't think the note won't be a part of the story… Here's your update!

Vetor Swest- Is your pen name an anagram? It kind of sounds like it. I'm writing another chapter so hopefully nothing bad will happen… I hope.

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Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, places, books, or themes in this story. They all belong to Lemony Snicket and Daniel Handler, and other authors of the world.

When Lemony awoke, he was in a comfortable bed with a red quilt thrown upon it. He was inside a room with white walls and red and white checked curtains covering the window. A chest of drawers was in one corner, and a small writing desk was in another.

Lemony was ecstatic when he saw a shiny typewriter and clean white paper sitting on the top of the desk. His fingers itched to get at it so he could finish his book. Lemony then noticed bandages were wrapped all over his broken wrist, and on his palms. There were even more on his arms and legs. Where on earth was he? And who knew enough about medical procedures to treat his wounds?

The door opened quietly and Lemony looked over to see a small woman with fiery red hair tiptoe inside. She wore a white blouse, blue pants, and a long white apron with colorful stains all over it. Her eyes were a dull grey, but her hair made up for the lack of color. It was such a bright red it looked almost unnatural, and Lemony could barely look at it without straining his eyes.

The woman realized Lemony was awake and her face broke into a smile, a phrase that does not mean that her nose fell off and her ears clattered to the floor, but that her teeth showed and the corners of her mouth turned up.

"You're finally awake!" she said happily. Her voice reminded Lemony of snow cones and ice cubes. He remembered mistaking this woman for a young new V.F.D. recruit, which must have been because of her height. She seemed quite short for her age, and her head looked like it might reach up to Lemony's chest.

"You've been practically unconscious for the last, I'd say, 8 hours. Except when you woke up in the Jeep. You were screaming like crazy!"

"I was asleep for that long?" Lemony asked in wonder.

"Yes." She became grim faced. "You've faced pretty serious injuries. Burns all down your arms and legs, a broken wrist, cuts everywhere, and even a bruised rib."

Lemony did feel awful, but he had never expected so many injuries. He guessed the bruised rib was from the typewriter falling on top of him.

"How did you know how to treat my injuries? Are you a doctor?" Lemony asked.

"Of course not! But I am training to become one. My instructor helped you out," she laughed.

"Who are you, and where are we?" Lemony questioned.

"Oh! I never introduced myself! My name is Ignacia Davis, but you can call me Nacy if you want. We're at my home in the Medical District."

"Who do you work for?" Lemony asked. He was worried about Ignacia's answer.

"I'm a new recruit in the V.F.D."

"I didn't know V.F.D. took on new recruits as old as you."

Ignacia fidgeted. She looked very uncomfortable. "Well…the V.F.D. decided it would be a good idea for the new volunteers to be older and more mature… so they can understand the goals of the organization better."

"That doesn't sound like the V.F.D. I used to know… but times have changed." Lemony said thoughtfully.

This woman still seemed suspicious. She could just be playing with his mind, waiting for the police to arrive to take him away. Could he trust her?

"Did you see how long my hair is?" Ignacia said eagerly as she flipped her flaming hair around, trying to find a conversation starter in the uncomfortable silence. Unfortunately, hair is not a very exciting conversational starter. Unless there is one in your soup, in which case you should inform you waiter or hostess.

"Would you like to see something?" Ignacia asked brightly. She pulled a wheelchair out of the closet and rolled it over to Lemony's bed. Lemony carefully lifted himself up, wincing with pain nonetheless. When he was settled, Ignacia rolled him out of the room and into the hallway.

Lemony and Ignacia halted at a pair of tall oak doors at the end of the hall. Ignacia pushed them open, and Lemony gasped as he saw what lay inside.

The biggest library he had seen in a long, long time, with what must have been hundreds of books on its shelves. Big squishy armchairs were nestled in one corner, along with a few bright reading lamps. Lemony wheeled himself over to a shelf, and he read the titles of the books upon it:

Green Mansions.

Plants Native to North America.

Ramona Quimby, Age 8.

The Littlest Elf.

A Book of Poetry.

Sharks and Their Impact on the Oceans of the World.

Lemony turned to his rescuer with a smile on his face. Ignacia also smiled, and in a whisper she uttered 5 short but meaningful words: "The World Is Quiet Here."

It was then that Lemony believed Ignacia Davis to be a true volunteer.

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I only have one word for you. R-E-V-I-E-W.