★ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 ★ (𝓐𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓮)

The Backstabbing Betrayal 2

There are two reasons why a writer would end a sentence with the word "stop" written entirely in capital letters STOP. The first is if the writer were writing a telegram, which is a coded message sent through an electrical wire STOP. In a telegram, the word "stop" in all capital letters is the code for the end of a sentence STOP. But there is another reason why a writer would end a sentence with "stop" written entirely in capital letters, and that is to warn readers that the book they are reading is so utterly wretched that if they have begun reading it, the best thing to do would be to stop STOP.

A car slowly stopped where Nadia was sitting. Her father got out, looking worried. He quickly hugged her and looked her over. 

"Are you okay?" Her father asked, gently cupping her face. The brunette nodded. "Come on," Her father said, grabbing her hand and opening the car door for her. Nadia got in. Her father got in and for a moment it was complete silence. Her father started the car.

"Wait where are we going?" Nadia asked. 

"Home," Her father replied. 

"No we can't," Nadia said grabbing his hand. "We need to go," She pointed the opposite way. "There because that's where the Baudelaires went!"

"We have to get you-" Her father started but Nadia interrupted him. "We have to! Count Olaf followed them as well!"

Her father hesitated. He wasn't sure what to do. But then he decided he would keep his promise to his dead friends. He started the car and drove to the way Nadia pointed. Nadia sighed in relief.

"Where do we reach this way?" Nadia asked when she realized she had no idea where they were going.

"Heimlich Hospital," Her father replied. "It's the building on this road."

The ride was very long and tiring. There was no view either and it made the journey even more devastatingly long. After a few hours of driving and staring at the dirt road the brunette asked.

"Did you know the Baudelaire's parents?"

Her father sighed. "Yes, I did." 

"Oh really?" Nadia asked interested. "What's your favourite memory of them? I could tell the Baudelaires!"

Her father chuckled. "Well, I never told you this, but it's not the first time you met the Baudelaires." Her father described the memory as his eyes turned misty.

It was a beautiful sunny day. The sky was the bluest you can see and the different flowers bloomed. It looked like a door to heaven. There were bunnies and squirrels and small animals scurrying around. There was a picnic mat on the ground and there were people sitting there with their kids.

"I reckon my backhand is better than yours." A man wearing glasses chuckled. This man was Bertrand Baudelaire, the dead father of the Baudelaire children.

"No no no," Another man shook his head. This was Nadia's father. "I am way better."

"Can we please stop arguing about tennis?" A pretty woman chuckled. This was Beatrice Baudelaire the dead mother of the Baudelaire children. She was playing with a little baby boy. Klaus.

"Honestly, I would rather be deaf," A blue-eyed woman chucked. This was Nadia's mother. She was playing with both her daughters. Nadia and Nairobi. Or at the time they were called Katrina and Katherine.

A four-year-old intelligent looking girl was sitting near Nadia's mother. She was holding a ribbon in her hand. This was Violet. A two-year-old Nadia glanced at her and Violet waved at her playfully. Nadia cutely giggled.

Bertrand glanced at them and called his son. He gathered the children around and said to Klaus.

"Say hi to Katrina and Katherine, Klaus," Klaus quietly said hello.