Klaus was up at the crack of dawn, trying hard to be quiet, to not wake the girls too early. He'd grabbed his graduation cap and gown that was hanging off the back of a chair and had it folded neatly over his arm when he gently tapped Violet on the shoulder, waking her from a light doze.

"Hey," Klaus greeted gently. The walls of the apartment were just beginning to turn violet-gray with the imminent sunrise. Only the hall light was on. "I'm heading out now, but I'll see you at the school at 9? At the football field, okay?"

Violet felt bleary, like she could easily sleep another hour, so only replied, "Yeah, okay. See you then." It wasn't until after he flipped the light off and opened the door to leave that Violet truly realized what day it was. Throwing off her blankets and jumping off the couch, she called out quietly. "Klaus! Wait."

He'd been just closing the door behind him as he stepped out, but he opened it again, expectantly, as she reached him. She stepped onto the threshold of the doorway, and before he could ask what she wanted, Violet wrapped her arms tight around his ribs, squeezing. "I'm so proud of you," she said. He struggled to hug her back, juggling his graduation gear in one hand and his car keys in another, laughing softly at the situation. She leaned back on tippy toes to give him a quick kiss to his cheek. "You've done really well."

"Thanks," he said. "I've been looking forward to this day for awhile."

"I'm sure," Violet agreed, thinking of all that he had accomplished and all that he had ahead of him still, wishing she had that for herself. "Well, I know you've got to run. We'll see you in a bit." He nodded, walking backwards a few steps with a bemused smile on his face while she waved. "Good luck," she called finally when he'd turned around.

"Bye," he returned over his shoulder and she could hear him whistling a cheerful tune all the way to his car.

The rest of the day might have gone by in a blur of activity, if it weren't for the fact that the actual graduation was long and tedious, and the sun was quite warm, and the girls got very bored. Violet and Duncan and Isadora took turns quietly entertaining them throughout the long speeches, but then it was time for the graduates to be called up front. Luckily, Klaus was a B, so he landed towards the beginning of the roll call. It was thrilling to hear his name called out over the loudspeaker and to see him in his black gown and all of his honor cords looped around his neck. Between the three of them, they must've taken at least 100 pictures of Klaus walking up the aisle, of Klaus on the stairs, of Klaus accepting his diploma, of Klaus shaking hands with the Deans and Head of the school, and after the ceremony, there were many more photos taken of Klaus with all his friends. Then, coercing Klaus's friend, Josh, to take pictures of them, and pressing various phones into his hand until he struggled to hold them all, they posed all together, the beaming graduate at their center.

There was a huge group of people at the restaurant, not only the Baudelaires and the Quagmires, but other friends and their families. It was hard for Sunny and Beatrice to share Klaus's glorious moment with so many strangers, but he was generous with his attention to them, carrying Beatrice around, letting Sunny sit on his knee, introducing them over and over to everyone who asked about them. Overall, the atmosphere was easy and very celebratory, the late lunch lasting even later into the day.

This only left them several hours in the evening to pack up the rest of Klaus's belongings and get it all into the truck. Duncan admitted to missing Quigley for this part, and Klaus half-heartedly had to agree. Three men loading the moving truck would've been better than two. But most of the packing work had been done by Violet over the course of the last couple of days, so the women did their best to aid the boys in loading, while Sunny and Beatrice played games on the long ramp up into the back of the truck.

When all that was left in the apartment was Violet's and Klaus's backpacks, some cleaning supplies, and a few other odds and ends to get them through the night, the Quagmire's left, taking Sunny and Beatrice with them. "I'll just drop Duncan off at the airport and drive these two back to my place," said Isadora.

"That's a long way to go tonight after such a long day," Klaus reminded her gently, a hand on her shoulder. "You could stay here tonight, then go in the morning."

"I'll be fine," she said, looking around skeptically at the empty apartment. "I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight."

"Can we stop for ice cream?" Beatrice asked.

"Yes, of course," said Isadora indulgently. "I was planning on it anyway. And coffee." She whispered that last part conspiratorially behind her hand. Violet tried to hand her some cash, but Izzie pushed it away, saying, "Pfft."

As Klaus knelt to say goodbye to the girls, Isadora brought Violet into an embrace. "We didn't really get a chance to talk," she said. "Are you okay?"

Violet nodded, squeezing her friend tight. "Yeah. I'm…I'll be fine."

"Yes," she agreed. "You will. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Even quieter, Izzie said, "Make this time with Klaus count. He's not been the same without you. I've never mentioned it, but it's been weird to see you guys apart so much. I used to think you were stuck together with glue." Louder she said, "The girls will be fine. You two be safe! Don't get eaten by bears!"

Sunny laughed at this, but Beatrice looked worried until Klaus lifted her and blew raspberries onto her cheeks and she giggled away her fears. "I've got my phone and a couple of batteries. Call us if you need us," he assured.

The whole goodbye took forever. When it was just Klaus left with Violet in the apartment, the quiet was so loud it made her ears ring. She wished there was a couch to flop onto, she was so tired. Even the lumpy mattress of the futon, which was the only furniture left in the apartment, looked so appealing at that moment she thought she might lay down on it and sleep forever. But that was for later. There was hardly time to rest yet. The rental agreement said that the apartment had to be cleaned at the end of the lease.

"No rest for the weary!" announced Klaus, reading her mind. He plugged in his phone to charge and opened up his playlist. Tinny music issued from the tiny speaker, but it was enough. Violet grabbed a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towels, and Klaus reached for the Comet and a toilet scrubber. The whole process took surprisingly less time than expected and Violet thought that had a lot to do with the absence of Beatrice. Later, as Klaus mopped the kitchen floors, and she had given the carpets those good, clean vacuum streaks over the entire surface that were so satisfying, she was reminded of what a good team she and her brother had always been.

There were no warm cups of tea that night, of lazily sitting cross-legged on the couch, only a stacking of last minute things by the front door, and of checking and rechecking the supplies for their trip. The plan was to take Klaus's car in the morning, and eventually come back to this apartment for the moving truck, which held all of his belongings, and her vehicle that held all of hers.

"Are you bringing a book to read?" Violet asked, calling from her nest of blankets on the futon into the open door of his room, where the overhead light and ceiling fan were still on, and Klaus was unrolling his sleeping bag for the night.

"I can't decide," he said, appearing in the doorway dressed only in his gray sweatpants, "It does add quite a bit of weight to the pack, but it might be nice in the evenings to have something to do."

"I'll carry it for you," she offered and tried not to stare at his bare chest or his feet. "You've taken most of the weight out of my pack already. You can add this back in...just don't bring any encyclopedias."

He chuckled, nodding. "I might just take you up on that. Thank you."

"Good night," she said, turning onto her side, snuggling further into the blankets that smelled like her brother and a little like stale closet.

"'Night, Violet."

A bright orange sun lit the early morning sky as they made the three hour drive to the mountains. It was unequivocally a beautiful day, but guilt followed Violet most of the way west, down the highway, through small towns and large, and around sharp curves, until she wasn't sure which had made her feel more nauseated—Klaus's driving or her nerves. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been apart from Sunny and Beatrice for this long. What if they got homesick? What if they needed her and she was days away from reaching them? The egg biscuit they'd stopped for at a fast food restaurant did not sit well in her stomach, or maybe... was she feeling a recurrence of the stomach flu that had gone through the female Baudelaires earlier that week?

She worried aloud, more than once, until Klaus grabbed her hand, pulled it over the seat toward him and kissed the back of it. This surprised her so much, she almost forgot to worry about leaving the girls so far away. "You are the best mother," he said.

"What kind of mother leaves her children for a whole week?" she replied.

"You haven't left them alone. They're with one of their favorite people. They love Isadora. They'll be fine. You'll be fine."

Violet wasn't so sure, but the part about them loving Isadora was true. She'd been a constant in their young lives, always making time to listen to their juvenile conversations, coming to every birthday party, and indulging them almost as much as Klaus usually did. Sunny and Beatrice were probably bouncing off the walls, high on sugar cereal and television and undivided attention this morning.

GPS led them off the curving mountain highway onto a one-lane gravel road that could've been someone's private driveway, if not for the sign announcing the trailhead and the other cars parked in a neat little line on the grass. Once the car was parked, and they had stretched their legs, taking turns to walk a little ways into the woods to relieve themselves, Klaus hefted his large, heavy pack onto his back, buckling all the buckles and tightening all the belts. Then, he lifted Violet's pack onto her shoulders and supervised as she did the same. He pulled at a few of the straps until her load sat mostly on her hips and less on her back. No matter how he fiddled with it, the pack was still really heavy.

She'd dressed in soft black pants that she'd rummaged from her car, a tank top, and a flannel shirt for when the evening became cool. Hiking boots and thicks socks adorned her feet, and Klaus showed her the correct way to hold her hiking poles.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" she asked skeptically.

"'Think of these things, whence you came, where you are going, and to whom you must account.' Benjamin Franklin." When Violet only rolled her eyes, he added defensively, "Have I ever steered us wrong?"

The pace that Klaus set was a good beginning. The pack weighed on her, but it wasn't unmanageable. She concentrated on setting a rhythm with her hiking poles, watching the tiny spikes at the end bury themselves into the dirt of the trail to steady her. More than once, she had to lean heavily on one pole or the other to balance herself when it felt like the heavy pack might just topple her over.

As the first few minutes turned into the first hour, Violet's confidence built. She enjoyed the forest, green with its trees and leaves and ferns. The late morning air was mild in the mountains, a nice change from the warm humid weather at Klaus's graduation, which was to be expected as the beginning of summer settled into the South. Klaus was cheerful, walking only a pace in front of her, entertaining her with constant chatter.

"I think you'll be able to manage just fine, Violet," he was saying. "The hike is a total of just over twenty miles over five days. That gives us plenty of time. How are you feeling?" After the first mile, they reached a sign marker, with arrows pointing both ways down a cross-roads. "Okay," Klaus announced, pulling up his trail directions on his phone. "We've officially reached the Appalachian Trail."

"What?" Violet felt disappointed. "Here, I though we were making good progress, but we haven't even made it to the real trail yet?"

Klaus laughed. "Sorry. That was good practice, but now we're going to start hiking in earnest. Let's try to get to the top of this mountain." He pointed left down the trail. "Do you want to go ahead of me, to set the pace?"

"I'll slow you down," she answered.

"That's okay. We'll walk together. There's no hurry."

Going up the mountain with twenty-eight pounds on her back was not easy. Almost immediately, with the first incline, Violet felt the burn of it in her calves. On this part of the trail the trees mingled with scrubby bushes, and the wide path narrowed to approximately a foot across. The sun beat down on Violet and soon a trickle of sweat poured constantly down her back and she had to squint in the bright light of noon. Klaus called to her to stop, which she did gratefully, and he pulled her water bottle out of her backpack pocket, handing it to her.

Turning, he said, "Can you hand me my water bottle?"

Violet laughed. "So. This is why you shouldn't go backpacking alone? Who would hand you your water?"

"If you check the first pocket there," he instructed, "yeah, the zipper one, there should be a hat in there." She found it tucked down with some sunglasses and some sunscreen, and pulled out everything, handing it all to him over his shoulder.

Facing her, he said, "Close your eyes," and he sprayed her with the sunscreen, but he forgot to tell her to close her mouth, and she wound up inhaling the bitter taste onto her tongue. Then he placed the hat on her head, pulling it down playfully over her eyes. "You might need to tighten it." He kept the sunglasses for himself and Violet thought he looked the picture of outdoor manhood, with his tee shirt, waterproof cargo shorts, and hiking boots. His hair was curly and wet with sweat, and his lips were a bright red to match his rosy cheeks.

"Thanks," she said, stowing his water bottle back into its pocket.

The steep path did not lend itself to much conversation. Violet had to concentrate on each step, on placing her feet and her hiking poles in the right spot. The hat shaded her eyes, but did nothing to stop her from sweating and she was embarrassed to say anything lest Klaus hear how out of breath she was. Twice more they stopped, and once, in a very shady spot, Klaus helped her take her pack all the way off. They rested there, water bottles in hand, seated on low rocks, while other hikers passed them. Many offered encouragement, letting them know approximately how much further they had to go to reach the summit.

Other than the obvious strain of it all, Violet found that she enjoyed pushing her body to the limit, testing her endurance, and she vaguely wondered how sore her muscles would be later. The day was gorgeous, the sky blue and bright, and Klaus was all hers for the better part of a week. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had this much time alone together. Probably never.

She knew her brother could be moody, sometimes slipping through extremes like swimming through still water, but right now he was understanding, agreeable, and companionable, and she easily remembered a time, back on their island— which they never talked about— when he was her everything and she was his, back then he'd looked at her like she was water and he'd been dying of thirst. Violet thought often of those times, and wondered if he did, too. Or was he perfectly happy with the life he had now and never thought back on what might've been? She'd never been lonely then, which was ironic, since they had been very alone. He had made her feel like she was the center of his universe, had wanted to be with her, and she had refused to accept the love he offered her even though it had taken all her willpower to do so.

The reasons she'd given to discourage Klaus had seemed so important six years ago, but now they seemed vague, a child's obedience to the rules. Looking at his kind face, the almost ever present quirk of a smile, his raised eyebrow and dimple in his left cheek, sent a rush of warmth and remembrance through her. What would it feel like now, to be on the receiving end of a kiss from Klaus? He'd grown into a man and she had not failed to notice.

She was being ridiculous. There was no point to these wonderings and she felt as silly daydreaming about Klaus now as she had when she was a teenager. Of course he had moved on from his childish infatuation with her. She'd been the only girl around for miles at that time, so he had loved her by default. Idly, she wondered about the girlfriends he had in college. He'd only ever mentioned them in passing. She was always wildly curious, but felt it was not within her right to ask him since she was unsure if her questions originated from sisterly protectiveness, nosiness or jealousy. Yesterday, after the graduation ceremony, Klaus had been stopped and hugged by at least twenty different girls, each one receiving one of his special smiles or invoking some inside joke or standing on her tiptoes to bestow a kiss to Klaus's cheek, inciting a niggle of envy in Violet's gut every time.

Just after noon, the trees disappeared altogether, the scenery changing to short scrub and tall plants. The trail was sometimes only a rut in the ground or a narrow track through the weeds, but the heavily trafficked path remained easy to follow. The incline was still present, but it was more straightforward, as Violet could actually see the top of the mountain, or the bald, as Klaus had called it. At the very top were large boulders, perfect for climbing and admiring the views. They left their backpacks at the base of the large rock, and digging out granola bars and apples, they carried their lunch to the top, and sat side by side, legs dangling, admiring the 360 degree view.

The wind was fierce at the top of the mountain and the sun didn't seem as hot now. Violet tucked her hat under her leg, just in case a gust tried to to steal it from her. Her hair blew wildly, but it was secure in her ribbon and she didn't give it a second thought.

"You've done well, today," Klaus said, swallowing his granola bar down in two bites. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," she answered simply.

"Would you tell me, really? If you weren't?" He looked directly at her, eyes piercing her with his serious concern, and she got the feeling he was talking about more than just sore muscles.

That was a difficult question for her to answer. So many times she found herself sucking it up and soldiering on. It was an inherent part of her personality these days, to make sure everyone was happy, even if made her unhappy…but that was a catch-22, because as long as the people around her were happy, they usually didn't notice if she was unhappy. It was nice to be considered, but the habit was well ingrained.

Violet shrugged. She couldn't make promises.

Klaus let out a huge sigh, shaking his head a little, and laid back on the sun-warmed rock, head cushioned in his hands, eyes closed against the bright sunshine sky. She felt an urge to run her finger in-between the cords of muscles in his arm, or to lay a palm flat on his stomach, to feel his breaths, to touch that coarse line of hair she could see that ran down from his belly button where his shirt had ridden up, to be comforted by his presence like she had so craved these last few days. Why shouldn't she touch him? He was hers more than any of those other girls yesterday.

She tucked in her legs, turning to face his relaxed, supine form. His eyes were closed still, the sun bright on his face. He'd taken off his sunglasses while they ate and they were tucked safely in his shirt pocket. He could sense her studying him because he became perfectly still and a crease formed between his eyebrows. Lifting her finger, she decided to touch him there, that soft skin between his eyebrows, sliding over the silky arch of one, and then the other. He said nothing so she continued, pressing two fingers gently against the pale underside of his wrist, drawing a line from his forearm to his elbow —he turned his face toward her, but his eyes remained closed— then from his elbow, up over his shirt sleeve, not stopping until she felt the ridge of his collarbone. He moved one of his forearms to shade his eyes as he looked at her then. His gaze was clear, his irises the color of the blue sky above them.

"Violet," he said in a tone unreadable, pressing his palm over her hand, stilling it. She didn't know what came over her. The way he said her name made her throat burn and her chest to ache, made her want to cry. What was wrong with her?

"It was the truth," she lied. "I really am fine."