I stood outside of the East Gate, waiting for her to come. Waiting for Beatrice. I couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't get her face out of my head. Her beautiful face. I wondered what someone like her was doing in an organization like VFD, though she probably got there the same way I did. I stood there, and I stared at my watch. 9 o'clock. This was risky, staying out after curfew, but I still had a few hours. Curfew wasn't until midnight. I stood there and looked around, at the people walking past. Couples. Loners. And families. God, those stung the worst. I closed my eyes and though hard, trying to remember. What did mother look like? What color were her eyes? Was she tall? A brunette? A blonde?
And what about father? Had I even had a father? No, I could remember that much. I could remember that he'd existed, but had he been lanky, or short and stout? Had he been nice, or mean? What was his favorite color? All I could remember of them was, no, I couldn't remember anything anymore. Not when I'd been so young. When it'd been so long ago. That they'd taken me. And Kit. And Jacques. I'd only been 3. Maybe 2. Jacques and Kit were lucky. They could still remember. They'd been older. When it happened.
A family walked past with two young boys and an older girl. They looked so happy; they were all smiling and laughing. It reminded me of the family I could've had, still could have when I got older. That was all I wanted. To have a family. And, of course, for Beatrice to show up. I looked around again. No one. It was already 9:30. I shivered in the crisp, winter air. My legs had begun to get tired, so I sat down.
When was the last time I'd seen Kit and Jacques? They'd stopped eating in the dining hall, and they were older then me, so they were in different lodgings and classes. I think it'd been a month. Maybe two. I hoped to see them again soon. I thought about what to do to overcome my boredom, when Beatrice would come, if she did. People stared at me, a nicely dressed 11-year-old sitting at the East Gate. I didn't mind. People always stared.
10:00. I wonder if she's with that damn Olaf. God, I hate him. I swear, he'll grow up to join the evil side. The bad side. But I'd never say it out loud. We're forbidden to speak of it. The side we're trying to fight. I wonder how R. is doing. She's been gone since her mother, the Duchess, fell ill. That was months ago.
10:30. It's getting so late. I wonder where she is?
11:30. Damn it, I fell asleep. I sat up and stretched as a little note of paper fell off my head. I noticed two letters written on it. LS. I quickly opened the note to read it.
LS, I'm sorry, but I feel that this isn't the best place to meet. Maybe next Saturday, in the section of the library that people never visit. You know which one I mean. If you except, then I will meet you there on Saturday, at 9:30 sharp. I'm looking forward to it. –B. P.S. This place's root beer floats are delicious.
I couldn't help but smile when I finished reading the note.
POV: Beatrice Baudelaire, daughter of Kit
I'm sitting at the corner table, waiting for him. Sir. He knew Klaus, Violet, and Sunny better then anybody else, and after doing my research, I can see why. It's so terrible that he couldn't be with the person he loved. Their mother, the person I'm named for. I saw a photo of her and couldn't believe her stunning beauty. I also found that he might have some tie to my mother, that he might even be able to tell me who she is. But I still haven't gotten a single reply from him. I'm a part of VFD, too! I know I'm only 10, but I'm entitled to this knowledge! And he's the one who has it.
I couldn't find a single picture of him, so I guess I'm just going to have to pray that some random creep doesn't just show up. Like the man with a beard and no hair, or the woman with hair and no beard. That's right, I read about them, too. Klaus taught me all about books and information, and exactly where to go to get the best! I looked around looking for anyone coming towards me, to see a waiter coming my way with a small medium root beer float.
"I didn't order anything," I spoke in my small voice as he set it on the table.
"You B.?" He asked.
"Maybe," I replied.
"Then yes, you did," And he walked away. How odd. Maybe Sir had read my note. I tried to take a sip, but something was clogging the straw. I removed the straw from the glass to see a small, folded piece of waterproof paper stuck in the end of the straw. I carefully unfolded the strip to see written on it.
B, this place isn't safe. Leave immediately. If you still want to talk to me, then meet me in the section of the library people never visit. You know which one I mean. I couldn't have ripped your note in half, even if I wanted to. I had an ordeal similar to this when I was about your age with the person you were named for. I want to talk to you very badly, but nowhere is safe. Our motto may be 'the world is quiet here', but there are always sounds of people watching. And of people fighting. So please, be careful. –LS
Tucking the paper in my pocket, I ran out of the café in glee. Finally, I'd be able to get some answers.