After my confrontation with Olaf, things gradually appeared to become worse. As if he had a severe vendetta against me (more so than his current one), Olaf had me do increasingly tedious and challenging chores. Nearly every other day, Olaf would have me inventory his acting paraphernalia in alphabetical order, meaning I would be constantly up and down the stairs. Each time his troupe came over to rehearse, which was nearly every night, he would have me deep clean their shoes; sometimes he would have his troupe put on their freshly cleaned shoes and stomp around in his muddy yard just to come back in and have me clean again. It also wasn't enough that my siblings and I had scrubbed his floors as one of our first chores: he wanted that done three times a week.
It was during another inventory that Jacquelyn found me again. It had been a couple of weeks since the morning I had told Olaf about my pregnancy. Since then, he had kept me within 10 yards of him when we went out, meaning I couldn't sneak away to any doctor. I was now six months along, and I had no idea how my baby was doing.
I had just come back upstairs into the dusty attic looking for Olaf's glockenspiel. I knew it was in its previous location: in the trunk near the window. However, there was a small shoebox that was now on top of the trunk. Olaf must have put it there and forgotten it. I made sure no one was looking, and I opened up the shoebox. There wasn't anything of value in there. Just papers, trinkets, and random items. I flipped through the papers and found the picture of a young woman. Her wavy hair fell to her shoulders, and she had a bright smile full of genuine happiness. Her clear eyes reflected that same joy. I cocked my head, confused as to why this picture was stashed away.
I heard a light rap on the window. I jumped back, startled at first, but then relieved to see Jacquelyn's sympathetic face. She waved at me to open the window, which I did. I pocketed the picture and replaced the lid on the box.
"Violet," she whispered to me after she climbed in. She pulled her repelling gear through the window.
A grin spread across my face upon hearing my name. Even though she had called me by my name before, this time it felt more real. "You have no ideas how wonderful it is to hear you call me that instead of just 'orphan,'" I said with tears in my eyes.
Jacquelyn's brows furrowed. "Your name?" I nodded. "Oh, Violet." She approached me and gave me the first hug I had experienced in warmth in months. "There is nothing more precious to us than our own name. It's a summary of who we are." Jacquelyn released me and smiled at me.
She examined me from head to toe, her gaze pausing briefly at my midsection. "How are you doing?" she asked solemnly. "You look a bit unwell."
I lowered my head. "Count Olaf knows."
Jacquelyn paused. She placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you OK? Has he done anything to you?"
I sighed. "He won't take me to see a doctor."
Jacquelyn's eyes widened. "How far along are you, now?"
"As far as I can tell, I think I'm around 22 weeks," I replied.
Jacquelyn sighed mournfully. "You deserve so much better, Violet Baudelaire." She glanced around. "You should sit down." She led me to a large chest and had me sit. Despite my protests, I was glad to be off my aching feet.
"I do have good news for you. The remaining V.F.D. have received word that your brother and sister were seen leaving Heimlich Hospital. It was reported that they both looked fine. We're still not sure where Count Olaf sent them, however," Jacquelyn said to me.
My heart soared at the knowledge that Klaus and Sunny were well. I could only imagine how they were being treated, but I was grateful for them to be alive.
"How did you find out?" I asked.
Jacquelyn sat next to me on the trunk. "There are eyes everywhere that are watching out for children like you and your siblings, Violet. Sometimes it takes a while to find you, but we almost always do," she replied. She placed a gentle hand on my back in consolation.
"I know you must be terrified, but I promise that we'll find a way for you to be reunited with Klaus and Sunny." Jacquelyn pulled me closer to her.
"How?" I stared off at nothing. "Count Olaf said that if I escape, he'll kill Klaus and Sunny. If they escape, he'll kill me. He's got eyes everywhere, too, Jacquelyn."
Jacquelyn pursed her lips in thought.
Faint footsteps began to ascend the staircase to the attic. We both looked to the closed door in panic.
"We're coming up with a few options, Violet. Give me—give us—some time, and we'll figure it out." As Jacquelyn spoke, she opened the window and began to climb out. "Expect some form of correspondence from me soon." She paused before she closed the window. "I'm so sorry we had to meet like this, Violet. Good luck to you."
The ascending footsteps stopped at the attic door. I stood, bidding Jacquelyn a quick farewell and going back to my task to avoid any suspicion. Jacquelyn repelled out of view just as the attic door burst open.
Olaf's temperamental gaze landed squarely on me. "It's nearly lunchtime, Orphan," Olaf snapped. He came up to me, his arms crossed and fingers tapping in annoyance.
I glanced his way. "I'm not finished with your inventory," I replied.
"Well, stop where you're at and make my lunch!" I nearly laughed, as Olaf sounded exactly like a petulant little boy who was not bought a toy he so desperately wanted.
I set down my pen and paper and turned to leave. "Can I please make a bit more than usual? I remember reading about needing to maintain a certain…weight," I requested.
Olaf screwed up his face and looked me over. "You're already getting fat enough," he said spitefully, gesturing to my growing midsection.
"I'm pregnant, not fat," I retorted.
"Then how come your face is getting so fat?" Olaf poked a long finger into my cheek.
I slapped his hand away and rubbed the spot where he had touched me. He was right at that: my face was rounding out as a result of the pregnancy.
I shook my head. "I still need a full meal. A proper diet is critical—"
Olaf groaned obnoxiously. "Do you ever stop nagging—?"
"I'm serious!" I screamed. Olaf suddenly wore a shocked expression as he shut his mouth. "I'm pregnant! Of course I need certain things! I need proper food! I'm going to need new clothes soon! I need a doctor! You've shown no interest in this child, and you've known about it for two months! Now you've forced me to stay home and keep this baby! I'm 14, and I'm not prepared to do this on my own. You say you're my husband all the time; you're supposed to help me!"
"I don't have to do one fucking thing, Orphan!" Olaf yelled back. He raised his hand behind him to hit me.
I stumbled and fell back onto the trunk. My arms went to cover my belly as I recoiled. "Don't!" I shrieked.
Olaf lowered his hand and stalked closer to me. "I can do whatever I want to you! You're mine! I can beat you until you're black and blue or I can make scrub every inch of this house with nothing but a toothbrush! I could fuck you until your guts fell out! You're my Countess, my wife, my fortune!"
Olaf stood straight, huffed, and turned around to leave.
"Whatever happens, I hope this baby is nothing like you, Olaf," I seethed. I placed a hand on my stomach.
"Get downstairs and make my lunch," Olaf said.
"I'll make sure this baby know what a disgusting, horrible, monster you are. I'm going to raise them to be noble, like my parents raised me," I continued.
Olaf froze in his tracks. "You think your parents were noble?" He spat the word out like something bitter.
"Of course they were. And that's what my baby's going to be."
A quiet voice came from his figure. "'They fuck you up, your mom and dad. They may not mean to, but they do.'" Olaf chuckled. "There are no noble people in this world, Baudelaire." He turned to look at me, his eyes melancholic. "No one is noble. You'll find that everyone does something villainous in their lives. Even you."
I glared at Olaf and scoffed, "I'll never do villainous things like you."
"Oh, my dear, Countess," Olaf's lips pulled upwards as a laugh caught deep in his throat. "I'll be there the day you do so I can make sure you eat your words."
Confusion had addled my mind all day. Whenever I tied back my hair with the twine to do my work, I felt nothing. I had no bursts of creative energy or interesting ideas. I was simply off.
My task for the past few days had been to make the backyard appear more presentable. It was mostly weeds and very little decorative foliage had been planted. Nearly all the grass was dead, except for a few soggy patches where the water never drained properly. It would be a lot of work, but I resolved to make it look as lovely as possible. I began with the hedges: it had been ages since they were given a proper trim.
I was very thankful that it was not scorching hot outside. Perspiration still dampened my hair and dress from the work, but the September weather helped cool me.
I sighed mournfully as I realized that I would not be starting school again. All of my friends before my family's fire would be getting their school supplies and uniforms. They would receive their class schedules and sign up for clubs and sports. They would gag at the cafeteria food and complain about their difficult teachers. My friends would go to each other's house after school let out for the day and study and play. They would get to be kids.
I looked at my calloused hands as they used the shears to snip at the hedges. I wouldn't get to experience any of that this year. My eyes welled up with tears. Here I was with no parents, my siblings missing, married at 14 to a wicked man, and six months pregnant with his child.
I hated my life. I hated myself for letting this happen to me. I watched as I let the shears drop to the ground. Tears streaked my puffy cheeks and my throat tightened. The urge to scream built in my chest, but I didn't have the energy to let it manifest.
As if in an attempt to comfort me, the baby kicked softly inside me. I sniffed and looked down at my growing bump. I placed a hand where I felt the movement and rubbed my thumb against the fabric of my dress.
My head suddenly felt foggy, but before I could comprehend what was happening, I heard Olaf's sharp bark, "Orphan!"
I jerked my head up to see him stalking out of the house and toward me. "My troupe is coming over tonight, so I need you to start making dinner for them," he said.
I looked up at him as he came to a halt in front of me. "I don't feel all that well," I admitted. My vision began to blur.
"Don't try and get out of your chores, Orphan. Just get inside and start cooking," Olaf snapped. He scowled and spun around to go back to the house.
A ringing started in my ears and stars began to creep into the edge of my vision. "Olaf, please," I breathed, my energy seeping from my body. "I don't..." I tried to step forward, but instead, I collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
I heard the muffled sounds of people chattering and electronic beeping. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. I glanced down to my arm and found an IV. I was in a hospital.
"Hey, sweetie," a woman in scrubs said to me. She approached me from the Emergency Room hallway with a smile. "How're you doing?"
My brow furrowed in confusion. "What's going on?" I asked.
The nurse looked at the clipboard in her hands. "Are you with a..." She narrowed her eyes. "Count Olaf?"
This was my chance. I could explain to the nurse everything and how Olaf was abusing me. I opened my mouth to speak.
"I believe I heard my name?" Olaf's voice rang out as he rounded the corner into my room. When he saw me, he put on a concerned face. "Oh, Violet!" He rushed to my side and embraced me tightly. He pulled away and looked me in the eye, his true self glinting through. "How are you doing? I was worried sick!"
The nurse grinned. "She's quite all right, sir. You must be so relieved," said the nurse.
Olaf's lips curled into a disturbing smile. He pinched my cheek. "You have no idea," he hissed.
The nurse hummed in approval, evidently buying into Olaf's act. "I'll go get the doctor, and he'll explain everything." Olaf watched as she left the room.
His entire demeanor changed back to surliness as soon as she was out of sight. He snarled as he stood up straight and backed away. "Don't think this gets you out of anything," he said.
"Did you bring me in?" I asked.
Olaf rolled his eyes. "Please. A nosy neighbor saw everything and called an ambulance. And I couldn't very well have a dead orphan in my yard, now could I?"
A middle-aged man with a kind face stepped into the room. He took a stethoscope out of his lab coat pocket and hooked it around his neck. "Hi, there! I'm Dr. Piedmont. And you must be…"
"Violet Baudelaire," I finished.
Dr. Piedmont smiled and gestured to Olaf. "Is this your dad?"
"I'm her guardian and her husband. Count Olaf, impresario," Olaf announced, turning up his charm.
Dr. Piedmont's expression faltered as he glanced to me. "Forgive me." He pulled out my chart from the base of my bed. He cocked his head. "I'm sorry, how old are you, Miss Baudelaire?"
I gnawed at my lip, my face growing red with embarrassment. "14," I replied.
"14..." Dr. Piedmont responded. "Well, I think it's a bit obvious as to why you collapsed, Miss Baudelaire. As a teenager, your body isn't quite fully equipped to handle the stresses of pregnancy. You developed anemia."
Olaf gasped theatrically and knelt by my side again, squeezing my hand. "Oh, my dearest darling!" he exclaimed. "How terrible!"
Dr. Piedmont continued, "Well, not necessarily." He took out a pen and pressed it to the clipboard. "Have you been taking proper vitamins, Miss Baudelaire?"
I stuttered, "Not really…"
"Have you been to see a doctor recently?" Dr. Piedmont asked.
Olaf butted in. "We're certain that our little..." Olaf's voice became sickly sweet, "...bundle of joy is doing just fine." Olaf coiled his arm behind and around me and rested his hand on my bump.
"Still, she should be examined by a doctor. Being 14, she has a lot of potential health risks to be concerned about," Dr. Piedmont urged.
Olaf frowned. "But, it's my decision as her guardian, right?"
Dr. Piedmont sighed. "Yes, sir, but—"
Olaf laughed. "Then it's settled. I'll take care of whatever my little darling needs." Olaf squeezed my hand tightly once more and began to smooth his hand over my bump possessively.
Dr. Piedmont glanced between me and Olaf for a moment. "May I have a word with Violet alone? I need to make sure I haven't missed any medical information," he asked.
I looked at Olaf, whose expression shadowed immediately. He let go of my hand subtly and moved it beneath the bed covers. "My good doctor," he began. "We're husband and wife. Surely whatever you ask you can ask in front of me too?"
Dr. Piedmont approached me. "Is there anything that is in your home that might be considered...upsetting to your health?"
I knew exactly what he was asking. My heart clenched in relief that someone had seen what was happening. As I went to answer, a familiar sharp point pressed up against the side of my belly. I realized that that was why Olaf had covered his hand with the blankets. This, however, was far more terrifying than the first time he threatened me with a knife; this time, he wasn't just threatening me or Klaus or Sunny. He was threatening his own unborn child.
"No, sir. Everything is just fine at home," I lied. Olaf pressed the knife a little harder against me. "We're very happy together."
The knife suddenly disappeared. "You see, doctor? Everything is perfectly fine," Olaf fibbed.
Dr. Piedmont sighed once again. "Very well. Miss Baudelaire, I'm writing a prescription for the anemia. You should start taking supplements, and I cannot stress enough how you need to see a doctor. My guess is that you're a little over six months now, so you should really get checked out," he explained. He started to leave.
"Wait," I called after him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Olaf glare at me.
"Yes, Miss Baudelaire?" Dr. Piedmont replied.
"Could…could I request an ultrasound?" Dr. Piedmont stayed quiet. "I mean, I know you probably already did it, so it would be stupid to do another one—"
"Let me call a technician and see what I can do," Dr. Piedmont said with a quick smile. He then left.
"Why would you ask for that?" Olaf asked gruffly.
"I'd like to see my baby. Wouldn't you?" I retorted.
Olaf rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat.
Because I was a fall risk, they wheeled me into the ultrasound room. Unfortunately, Olaf was right there with me.
"All right, sweetie. Can you get up onto the table?" the technician asked me.
"I'm pretty sure," I replied. I stood, a bit wobbly.
"Dad, will you help her out?" the technician asked nonchalantly as she turned to the ultrasound machine.
Olaf's eyes widened, his brow still furrowed. "Dad?" he repeated distastefully.
I glanced between him and the technician. She smiled. "Oh, it's just a little moniker we use to call the parents," she explained. "Help her up?"
Olaf stared at me and silently rolled his eyes. He took my arm and helped me sit on the exam table. The second I was up there, Olaf snatched his hand away and sat in the chair provided.
I leaned back on the table and took a deep breath.
"All right." The technician rolled up my hospital gown and placed a sheet over my private parts. "This gel is just a little cool," the technician said as she took out a tube and opened it. She squeezed the gel onto my stomach and smoothed it around.
The technician took the ultrasound wand and placed it firmly against my belly. "You ready to see the baby?" she asked me.
I nodded quickly.
There were a few minutes of silence as the technician watched the screen and moved the wand around my belly. She then smiled brightly. "Here it is," she said as she pushed the monitor toward me and Olaf for us to see.
There was a clear baby shape on the black and white screen. I couldn't think or breathe as it registered that that tiny human was moving around and alive in me. I simply stared at the image.
"I've got the heartbeat. You want to hear it?" the technician asked.
"Yeah." I heard both my voice and Olaf's surprisingly soft voice reply. I turned to look at Olaf, who was sitting on the edge of his seat, his eyes wide with something resembling wonder, as he looked at the monitor. He didn't even notice that I was looking at him.
A constant swish-swish noise filled the room. My baby had a heartbeat.
"It's a good steady heartbeat. Right now, there shouldn't be anything to worry about," the technician said.
I watched as Olaf stood slowly and step toward the screen, still fixated on the baby's image. "It's heart…?" Olaf repeated.
"Yes, sir. That's a good, strong heart," the technician assured. "You guys want to know what it is?"
Olaf was shaken from his daze. He looked at the technician with an unreadable expression. "No," he replied simply. He sat down again.
"Oh! A surprise then." The swishing noise cut off abruptly and the technician took the wand away from my belly and placed it back on the ultrasound machine.
"Will you be wanting a recording of the ultrasound today?" the technician asked both of us.
Before I could answer, Olaf said sharply, "We just want to check out and go home. Now."
"Oh," the technician said. "Very well. I'll send you back to your room and let Dr. Piedmont know."
When we got back to the room, Olaf became more insistent that we leave. Against Dr. Piedmont's recommendation, we left.
"That ultrasound wasn't necessary," Olaf seethed as we got in his car. "A whole bunch of fucking money, wasted." Olaf glared at me as I put my seatbelt on. "You owe me, Orphan."
On the car ride back to Olaf's house, we sat in silence. I could feel his anger radiating from him, and I could only imagine what punishments he could be thinking up because I took up his time. I had no idea what caused him to turn that fast, but it was extremely upsetting.
My thoughts turned back to him threatening to hurt me while Dr. Piedmont was in the room. I couldn't get the sharp sensation of the knife against my belly out of my head. I still couldn't believe that Olaf would have been willing to hurt his own child. "That's low, even for you, Olaf," I murmured.
"What the hell are you whimpering about?" he asked sharply.
I put my hand on the top of my bump. "Before the ultrasound, you were ready to kill your own baby! Just so you could hear me say how happy I am with you," I snapped.
Olaf jerked the steering wheel and pulled over to the side of the road. He turned to me, his eyes dark with rage.
"Did it ever occur to you that I knocked you up on purpose, Orphan?" Olaf spat. "I knew that one day, you might just give up on your siblings."
"I would never—"
"I needed more leverage to control you. And what better way to control someone than with their own kid?" Olaf smirked.
I opened and closed my mouth incredulously. "That's the most terrible—"
"I don't give two shits about that fucking baby, but you already do, even if it is mine. You were wrapped around my little finger all because I put a knife to your belly," Olaf said.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. "This was your plan from the start?"
Olaf chuckled. "Not from the beginning, no. It was my plan the moment I first fucked you," he finished with villainous cackle.
As he pulled the car back on the road and we restarted our journey to Olaf's house, I sank my head into my hands and quietly sobbed the rest of the way.