shalldiscuss
If you are hoping to read about a girl who grew up with loving parents, a stable home, and a life as comfortable as a freshly pressed pair of socks, I must urge you to close this book at once. This is not that sort of story. Instead, it is about Izora Lightwood, and like most children I have had the misfortune of writing about, her life is one you would not envy, unless you enjoy fire, sorrow, and the terrible feeling of being left behind.
Izora was clever. She had a boyish way of carrying herself, a sharp gaze that never missed a detail, and a mind that treated every problem as if it were a chessboard waiting to be conquered. But no amount of cleverness can prevent tragedy. One evening, when the world outside was dark and quiet, fire consumed her house and with it, her parents. The word orphan is one of the saddest in the English language, and Izora became one overnight.
Since then, she has been with the Quagmire triplets-Duncan, Isadora, and Quigley-who understood far too well what it meant to lose everything in the blink of an eye. They shared not only a roof but also a bond forged by grief, the kind of bond no amount of money, cards, or clever thoughts could undo.
If this were a happier account, I would tell you that Izora and the Quagmires found comfort, safety, and perhaps even laughter in each other's company. But, as I have already warned you, this is not a happy story. Izora Lightwood's tale, like those of the Baudelaires and the Quagmires, is tangled in a series of unfortunate events-full of smoke, secrets, and shadows that no candle can chase away.