(Takes place after Monty's death btw)

A heavy, low-hanging cloud seemed to settle directly above your residence, casting the afternoon light in a shade best described as foreboding grey. You stood rigidly near the front window, nervously adjusting the blinds—a habit born of years spent observing the movement of the enemy. You weren't adjusting your nerves; you were adjusting your expectations of how quickly the enemy would find you.

The events that led to this moment were, to you, disastrously predictable. You'd received the coded signal—a small slip of paper slipped inside a very dense volume of poetry—confirming that the children's last safe harbor, Dr. Montgomery's home, was compromised. Your name had been reluctantly put forward by The Organization as the next (and likely last) safe house in the area, a necessary risk you were prepared to take.

You barely had time to clean out a spare closet before a long, black taxi, driven by the constantly coughing and perpetually late Mr. Poe, sputtered to a halt directly in front of your house.

Mr. Poe practically fell out of the vehicle, clutching a handkerchief to his mouth and a stack of legal documents to his chest. "Ah, there you are, [Your Name]! Excellent! Timely, timely! Now, if you could just sign these liability waivers, we can proceed with the transfer."

He opened the taxi door, and there they were. Three small figures stepped out, their eyes reflecting a wariness far beyond their years.

The Baudelaires looked at you, their new potential guardian, and saw only a person. Someone who looked unremarkable, unenthusiastic, and hopefully, not actively malicious. They were simply trying to determine if you were eccentric enough to be kind, or mundane enough to be cruel.

First, Violet, the eldest, stood tall and thoughtful, her hair held back by a ribbon that seemed to contain a thousand ingenious mechanical ideas. Next was Klaus, the middle child, his spectacles glinting, clutching a thick volume—a boy who clearly understood that knowledge was his most reliable armor against the world’s relentless absurdity. And finally, held carefully in Klaus's arms, was Sunny, the infant, whose two remaining teeth gleamed in a way that suggested she was already deeply skeptical of your character.

Mr. Poe barely waited for them to step onto the curb before spinning you around and pointing wildly at the signature line. "There. All settled," he wheezed. "Do try to keep them safe."

With a final, terrible cough, Mr. Poe was gone, leaving you standing on the doorstep with the three children. Violet looked thoughtful, Sunny looked skeptical, and Klaus looked curious.