To say Violet was distracted as she sat at the dining room table, would be an understatement. She didn't hear a word of Beatrice's happy chatter. The entirely of her concentration was focused on the note that they had found. She only forced herself to interact when Sunny placed a large plate of chocolate chip pancakes on the table, beaming at her handiwork.
"Thanks, Sunny," Violet said, piling some onto her and Beatrice's plate. "You didn't have to do this, I could've made breakfast."
"Are you sure about that, Violet? Your cooking hasn't always been the most successful," teased Klaus.
"Hey, I can make a mean pasta puttanesca," she retorted.
"It doesn't matter anyway," interjected Sunny, "I like to cook." She paused. "Also I'm definitely better at it then you are, Violet."
The sister shrugged. "Well, that much is true."
"I think Violet is a great chef!" cried Beatrice. Violet laughed.
"Thanks, Bea. But if you're looking for cooking tips, I'd ask Sunny."
Despite her eagerness to usher away the young girls, and read the mysterious message, Violet tried her best to enjoy the breakfast. It was delicious, after all. Plus, moments like these – just being a family, laughing together – made her life worth living. She smiled, and acted amazed when Beatrice made some bold proclamation about opening her own art gallery. She chatted with Sunny about recipes and spices. And when Klaus met her eyes and looked meaningfully at the library door, she sent him a silent message: Just hold on. Be patient.
Eventually, Beatrice got bored of sitting and talking. She dragged Sunny off to go play something-or-other. As they left, it seemed they took the light with them, leaving the elder siblings in dark silence.
Both grabbed a plate and hurriedly began washing. They scrubbed the kitchen clean without saying a word. Once all the dishes were sparkling, Klaus turned to Violet.
"Shall we?" he asked
"Lead the way."
The book was exactly where Klaus had left it, on a cherry wood table scattered with papers. He sat in the nearest armchair and pulled the novel onto his lap, where it fell open to precisely the right page. Violet leaned in to hear his low whisper.
"Baudelaires, I apologize for the use of the anomalous and antiquated Verbal Fridge Dialogue, and the minimal direction it provided, however, our enemies are pursuing closely behind us, and no extent of superfluous risk can be taken. You must go to the Buona Fortuna opera house on the date previously specified. Ask for the Very Fortuitous Discount. Once at your seats, remove the cushioning to find the object of your mission and the tools you will need to complete it. I'm sorry, but that's all I am able to tell you as of now. You will know what to do when the time comes. For now, burn this message. No one but you can know of it. We are all in danger.
- Q"
Klaus furrowed his brow at the signature.
"Q? You don't think that could be Q like Quagmire, could it? I mean, that's crazy. We haven't had contact with them in years. It must be some other Q, someone we haven't met."
He worried the pages of the book in his hand. "But that's also unlikely, considering the dwindling number of volunteers. Violet, what do you think?"
Violet had also thought of Quagmire when she saw the Q. Really, she thought of one Quigley Quagmire, a boy who she had never quite managed to forget. But she reined her hope in immediately.
"I don't know," she admitted to the expectant Klaus. She stared at the page thoughtfully. "I wonder why they wrote 'We are all in danger'. I mean, isn't that kind of old news?"
"Maybe it's more danger than before," Klaus suggested.
"I don't think that's even possible."
"Either way, I guess we're going to the opera on Saturday."
"No, I'm going to the opera on Saturday. You're moving into university in two days," Violet reminded. "By Saturday, you'll be gone."
Klaus' eyes bugged out of his head. "Violet, I'm not letting you go on a mission on your own!" he exclaimed. "It's dangerous. And I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt."
"Are you sure? You're going away to escape this shit, there's no reason you should have to still be involved in missions. I can handle myself, if I need to."
Klaus took hold of her hand. "But you don't need to. Because I'm going to look out for you, just like we always have, and we always will."
"Okay," said Violet. Then she smiled. "Thank you, Klaus."
"So, how is this going to work?" she asked, leaving the moment behind.
"Easy. The opera house is in the city. I'll meet you there an hour before the opera begins. Sunny can watch Beatrice for the night," Klaus replied, taking notes in his commonplace book. "And I have written all the essential information from the message into my notebook, so we… can burn away." His voice tightened on the last sentence.
Violet laughed. "I can burn the book. I won't make you go through that trauma."
"Oh thank god," sighed Klaus, relieved. "Just for that, I will take care of the girls all afternoon. You should try and catch up on sleep. You look absolutely exhausted."
"I'll do my best," Violet said with a grin. Her face fell as she took the book from Klaus. The idea of burning it really wasn't attractive. Obviously, she would be better suited than Klaus, who might actually cry over the novel, but Violet was also not a huge fan of fire. Nonetheless, she strode off after only a second's hesitation. There was destruction that had to be done.
Klaus left two days later. The girls went with him into the city and carried his boxes into his dormitory. Beatrice cried when saying goodbye. Sunny's eyes were wide, and her face was sad as she hugged him. Violet went last, and Klaus pulled her into a tight embrace.
"See you Saturday," he whispered, her face next to his.
"You can still back out of it," she returned.
He released her from the hug as if he hadn't heard her.
"Now don't miss me too much, okay?" said Klaus, kneeling to make eye contact with the younger two. "I'll see you soon, don't worry."
"You promise?" urged Beatrice, tears spilling down her face.
"I promise."
The final goodbyes being said, two Baudelaires and one Snicket left the room. The door shut. Klaus was alone.