Olaf had a habit of hoarding newspapers. Whenever I cleaned, I would find sections of different editions all over the house. Despite his house being extremely dirty, that particular habit was the most infuriating yet most interesting to me. Headlines from years prior were found on top of the refrigerator or in between the chair cushions.

A few weeks after returning from the Hotel Denouement, I was straightening up the dining room. I picked up the placemat that he had used for days and found the front page to The Daily Punctilio from the day after we got back. The headline, printed in black melancholy letters, read: "Hotel Denouement Burns to the Ground." I swallowed hard and read the line beneath it: "Owners Frank, Ernest, and the Enigmatic Dewey Denouement Perish in the Blaze."

My face pinched in grief. I felt the color drain from me as I broke out in a cold sweat. Bile began to rise in my throat, and I dropped everything to dash to the bathroom.

I collapsed down onto the bathroom floor. I hunched over the grimy toilet and heaved. I expelled whatever was left in my stomach until my muscles stopped contracting. I coughed up spit into the commode, tears streaming down my face. I gasped for air when I knew that I was finished vomiting. I fell back to sit on the floor up against the wall of the dingy bathroom. I took a hand towel from the sink and buried my face in it, slowly wiping my mouth and cheeks.

I wanted to cry. I had had splitting headaches for more than a week and had been sick nearly every day for two months. I was skinny to start with, but now I could see that I was starting to get malnourished. As regular as my meals were, I couldn't keep much of anything down.

I suspected that I knew exactly what was wrong with me. I hadn't had my period since before 'The Marvelous Marriage' play, but at the time I was extremely stressed.

I stood, my legs shaking from exertion. After I flushed the toilet, Olaf voice resounded from the other side of the door.

"Get going! My troupe will be here at 6! You need to get back ASAP immediately!" he shouted while banging on the door.

"'ASAP' is nearly synonymous with 'immediately!'" I called back.

"Just get to the store, you fucking brat! You have one hour!" I heard Olaf stomp away, and I knew it was safe for me to exit the bathroom.

I took the small change purse from the drawer in the foyer, in which Olaf had allotted money for me to be groceries with. As I counted just about $100, I stepped out of the musty house and onto the sidewalk. I breathed in the fresh air that I had not had for several days. All of my chores this week had been indoors.

At the supermarket, I wandered around, soaking in my free time. I relished in the silence around me. I wasn't hearing Olaf bark orders or whisper nasty things to me. His troupe wasn't laughing at the way I walked or what I picked out. I was truly alone, but it felt so good.

I wove my way through each of the aisles, my thoughts racing with what to cook for Olaf's troupe that was under $100. I gradually filled my cart with ingredients for a chicken parmesan dish. I came to the health section of the store, where I stopped and lump formed in my throat. I knew that I had to know for sure.

I looked around to make sure that prying eyes were not watching me. I slowly walked to the family planning section. "Accurate and Fast Results!" the pink boxes boasted. Before I could second-guess my actions, I snatched a box and threw it into my cart before pulling out of the aisle.

At the checkout line, I found that I could not look the perky cashier in the eyes. "Did you find everything all right?" she asked as she scanned item after item.

"Yes," I muttered, my eyes examining the change purse in my hands.

In my peripheral vision, I saw the cashier pause when she came to the pink box. I felt her questioning stare drill into me.

"Ok, that totals out to $97.37. Cash or card?" she asked, her voice not as perky this time.

"Cash," I said as I held out the twenties for her to take.

She returned the change to me and started to bag up the items. I mustered every ounce of courage I had and looked up to her. "Is..." I started. She turned to me. "Is it possible for you to hold the bags up here for me while I use the restroom?"

The cashier paused and glanced at the pink box I reached for. She smiled as warmly as she could. "Yes, of course."

Without replying, I snatched the box and dashed to the ladies' bathroom. I locked my stall door and tore open the box with trembling hands. There were three tests in the box. I decided to use them all.

For the entire waiting period, I stared at the sticks in my hands, almost daring them to show their result. For a moment, no results were showing at all. I frowned, thinking that I had just wasted a portion of the money that Olaf had sent me with. I didn't have enough to buy another set of tests.

Then, right at the specified time, the lines on all three tests began to show. Positive. Positive. And positive.

Pregnant.

I dissociated for a moment, almost feeling as though I had whiplash. My ears rang as my heart pounded. A sob escaped my chest and I began to cry. I didn't care who heard me. I just cried.

I had had my suspicions back at the Hotel Denouement, but at that point, it really was a bit too early to tell. That was why I had also reached for the medical textbook along with the physics book. I remember flipping back and forth to the section on reproduction; it was like my subconscious was telling me about what was going on. I just didn't want to believe it, as I still didn't want to in the store bathroom at that moment.

What would Klaus and Sunny say? What would my parents have said if they were alive? Would they all say how foolish I was to let Olaf trick me into marrying him? Would they chastise me for not inventing some way to escape before something like this happened?

What would Olaf say?

I swallowed thickly at that question. What if he didn't have to know, I thought to myself. Could I get rid of it?

My heart twisted sharply. I looked down to my stomach and pressed my hand to it. I was met with slight resistance, as my uterus was already firming. There was a small life nestled in my womb, and Olaf had put it there. Could I even have the stamina for an abortion? Many women did, but even so, it was still a hard decision for them.

I needed time to think and formulate a plan of some sort. I dried my eyes and left the bathroom stall, stuffing the tests back into their box and dumping it into the trash.

As I passed the mirror on my way out, I stopped and looked at myself. Somehow, I looked different with this new knowledge. I examined myself, my eyes stopping at my abdomen. I smoothed my hands down my purple dress. So far, there were no glaringly obvious visual indications of my condition; I was eternally grateful for that.

I sped out of the bathroom and to the front to collect my groceries. It was difficult to carry them back, but even so, I had to hurry. I didn't have a watch, but I was fairly certain my hour was almost up.

I made it back to the house after practically sprinting the whole way. I adjusted the bags in order to open the door, but it swung open before I could touch the doorknob. Olaf stood in the doorway, fuming and glaring.

"Do you know how long you were gone?" he spat.

"I'm sorry, but I got held up—" I started.

He interrupted, "You were gone an hour and three minutes!"

I paused. "Three minutes?"

Olaf grabbed the collar of my purple dress and roughly pull me towards him. He bent down to my face. "I told you that you were to be back in one hour!" he seethed.

I tried not to breathe in his putrid breath as I replied, "It was only three minutes! It was an honest mistake!"

Olaf pointed to his kitchen. "Get in there and make whatever you're going to make and then go upstairs and clean everything!"

"That doesn't make any sense! What do you want me to clean?" I asked.

Olaf's face turned a splotchy red. "Clean every fucking thing that exists up there! You are going to stay upstairs until I tell you to come back down!"

He shoved me away and slammed the door after pulling me into the house. He disappeared into his parlor where I heard him uncork a bottle of wine.

As I cooked the chicken parmesan, my head spun as I tried to work out some kind of plan regarding my condition.

I couldn't yet say that I was pregnant, because I didn't fully believe it myself. It wasn't real, even though my symptoms and the tests said otherwise.

In the back of my mind, I kept a memory of Klaus coming to me after reading a book on the human body. He told me, "Physical evidence of a woman's first pregnancy usually manifests at 20 weeks." I only thought of that as an interesting piece of information at the time. I never thought I would be needing it so soon. However, this was a bit of a comfort, meaning I would not have to tell Olaf for another ten or twelve weeks. That did not, however, account for teen pregnancies.

As I pushed the pan of chicken into the oven, I wondered if I would even want to tell him. I couldn't imagine him dealing with a child of his own based off of his treatment of me and my siblings. He had no qualms against locking Sunny in a cage suspended far above the ground. He had no issue with hitting a twelve-year-old across the face. And he certainly did not care about my well-being at all. How would he react to his own flesh and blood?

If I decided to get rid of the pregnancy, would they need his permission? Would I end up having to tell him anyway?

My mind raced all night, and I blocked out the regular sneers I received from Olaf's villainous lot after that last night at the Hotel Denouement. They made rude gestures and called me names, but I was much too preoccupied.

I did as Olaf told and went upstairs to clean everything in sight. I found it methodical and, dare I say, relaxing. I focused on polishing the hallway dressers until they looked appreciated, not disgustingly neglected.

It wasn't before long when I heard Olaf's heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I didn't turn around, but rather continued polishing a small table near his bedroom.

I heard Olaf's breathing behind me, and I expected him to criticize the way I was cleaning.

Instead, Olaf placed a gentle hand on my side and pressed himself up against me. He buried his nose in my hair and lightly snaked his other hand up to my chest. I flinched under his touch, and he noticed.

"My dear little Countess, have I not been gentle to you?" he asked, his voice sickly sweet and unconvincing.

"Not really, no," I said truthfully.

"Oh," he cooed faux apologetically. He brought his palm up to my bare neck and pushed my chin up until the back of my head rested on his chest. He planted kisses along my jawline. "Well, perhaps I could teach you a few things as an apology?"

I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes. "No," I said.

Olaf chuckled, a rumble from deep within his chest. The hand on my waist crept beneath the hem of my dress. "No? Are you sure?" Olaf's voice became sharper. His hands slipped into my panties and spread my lips apart to apply sudden pressure to my clitoris.

A traitorous moan escaped my throat and my body buckled but was held in place by Olaf's grip. I felt his cock twitch behind me.

"I believe your body is saying 'yes,' my Countess." Olaf rubbed against the sensitive bud again.

"No!" My voice was strangled with unwanted pleasure. I shut my watery eyes.

"Your brother and sister also say 'yes,' Violet," Olaf said.

"Don't you dare talk about them right now, Count Olaf," I growled. "Just do whatever it is you're going to do to me and leave me alone."

Olaf began to move his fingers back and forth slowly, causing pleasure to course through my veins. I wanted to peel off my skin for reacting in such a way to this villain's touch.

"No, Violet, I want you to enjoy yourself, tonight," he whispered in my ear while he pressed his growing erection against my backside. He pressed surprisingly soft kisses down my jaw and on the sensitive part of my neck. Olaf brought his free hand to brace over my stomach as he began to rub against me. I panicked slightly, hoping that he didn't put two and two together, as his hand rested right over my barely-there bump. He didn't pause or comment, so I released my fear. He gently sucked on the bend between my neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp gasp from me.

"Say my name, Violet," Olaf urged.

Tears spilled from my eyes as I shook my head. "Please, no..." I breathed. I grabbed both of Olaf's wrists and tried to push him away. He only stroked me faster at this.

"My name, Countess," he asked again.

A sob broke free from my mouth. I just wanted my body to stop betraying me like this. My first orgasm couldn't belong to him, much less come from something unwanted. I shook my head once again.

Olaf slowed his strokes and made them last longer. Stars flashed behind my eyelids as my willpower was diminishing. I wanted this torture to end.

"Say it," Olaf's order came again.

"Olaf!" I screamed as something spilled over inside me. A wave of terrible pleasure drowned me as I leaned against Olaf's steady form. My orgasm kept ripping through me like a hungry lion tearing me apart, and I hated every second of it.

I started losing my high, and as I was coming down, I realized that Olaf was the only thing that kept me from falling to the floor.

"Good little Countess," Olaf praised. He took his hand away from my clitoris and pulled me back up. He began leading me into his room. "My turn, now."

Exhausted, I shook my head, my eyes burning from the tears that fell. "Please, Count Olaf," I begged.

"Now, my Countess, don't you want things to be fair?" Olaf led me to his bed and had me sit as he took off my dress and underwear. "I hardly think it would be if I didn't have my fun as well." He then began to undress himself. "Would it?"

I looked up at him, my face red and eyes puffy. "No," I whimpered.

Olaf smirked. "No, it wouldn't."

I started to lie down on my back.

"Not like that tonight. I'm in the mood for something different," he stated. He waved his hand at me. "On your hands and knees."

My exhaustion fell away for panic. "No, Count Olaf, please—" I started.

Olaf huffed and grabbed my sides, propping me up on my hands and knees.

"Count Olaf, please, no! I'll do anything you want, just please not this—!" I wept.

Count Olaf ignored my cries as he got on the bed behind me. "Grab onto the headboard," he said.

I heard him spit to lubricate his member. I felt the tip of his cock against my anus.

"God, please, no, Olaf!" I pleaded.

When he forced himself into me, I screamed in pain and shock. My head fell to the pillow beneath me as sobs wracked my body.

Olaf grabbed both of my hips and began to thrust into me, pulling me back onto him with each thrust. He got rougher and rougher with me.

"Olaf, stop!" I shrieked. "Stop!"

He placed a hand on my back to brace himself. He grunted as he quickened his pace. "I'll stop when I've come, Orphan!" he growled back.

Not long after that, he released his load into me and removed his cock. I fell down onto the bed, still crying.

Olaf crawled over me and muttered into my ear, "Now, have you learned your lesson about being late?"

That's what all this had been about? I thought. I nodded swiftly, just wanting him to leave me alone.

"Good." Olaf got off the bed and slipped on his boxers. He then just stood there and stared at me as I sniffed pathetically, curled up on one side of the bed. "Go clean yourself up. I don't want to wallow in blood and shit."

I coughed and gingerly sat up. Despite the fact that he was fine with me sleeping in my own blood the first time around, he did not need to tell me twice. I got up and went to his bathroom quickly before he could change his mind.

The shower in his bathroom was lime-encrusted from years of sporadic use. I resolved that, in my daily cleaning, his shower would be a certain destination.

I turned on the water, and it burst out of the shower head icy cold. Despite my attempts to turn it, the temperature dial was stuck. A cold shower it was.

I gasped when I stepped into the shower as the water slammed into my back. I shivered as I let the water fall over my shoulders and down my front. I looked around the shower for any type of soap, but was unsuccessful.

The events that had just transpired played over and over again in my mind. As I pictured Olaf's terrible hands moving across my body, the urge to vomit seized my stomach. I shut my eyes and tried to breathe deeply to quell the nausea.

I pushed Olaf from my thoughts, but found myself dwelling on the three positive tests from earlier. I hoped they were wrong.

Somehow, though, I knew that they weren't. I smoothed a hand over my stomach and rested my palm right under my belly button. According to the medical book from the Hotel Denouement library, around this time, the fetus was about the size of a plum. While it wouldn't have been obvious to anyone who wasn't aware, I could tell I was pregnant. To an untrained eye, it would look as though I had eaten too much.

Olaf pounded on the bathroom door. "That's enough! You're wasting the water!" he shouted.

I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. I covered myself with the one towel that was hung up in the bathroom.

When I opened the bathroom door, Olaf had already turned out the light and gotten in bed. I turned out the bathroom light so that the only way I could see was by the moonlight that peeked through the curtains. I looked around for my nightgown and put it on as quickly as I could.

I laid down on the bed next to Olaf with my back to him. He wrapped his arm around my chest and pulled me against his body. He put his lips to my ear and whispered. "You are mine, Violet Baudelaire," he hissed like a snake. "Your body, your mind, and your soul belongs to me forever." He chuckled villainously and put his head back down on his pillow.

I had to escape.