Chapter 2: Garnets & Roses

Emily smoothed out the garnet sheets before taking a step back to survey her new room. It was larger than anticipated, given Vice Principal Nero's stunningly stingy attitude towards everyone except that bratty little girl with the tap shoes. Honestly, she was ashamed to even share the same hair colour as her.

She also couldn't shake the feeling that the man was completely incompetent; his office was a chaotically arranged hoarder's paradise, he had no clue that the school even had a dance department yet announced she was late for her appointment with him which in turn meant he was still expecting her and therefore knew she was the new dance teacher which made absolutely no sense. The worst part, however, was the meeting she had inadvertently walked in on. Two children, a girl and a boy, pleading with the Vice Principal to live in a 'real room' instead of something they called the Orphan Shack. Emily quickly found out that any children without parents were being forced to live in a tin shed alongside a large family of crabs with fungal slime dripping from the ceiling. Completely unacceptable.

Then, on closer inspection, she realised who these children were. The Quagmires. VFD parents who unexpectedly perished due to arson along with their brother. One huge fortune left when they became of age. With the Baudelaires on their way and this Count Olaf sure to follow, these children would not be safe either. Upon leaving the office she had immediately headed straight to her new room above the school and called Larry. He had promised her was on his way and would arrive within the next week in his usual stoic manner before reminding her not to 'rock the boat' with the vice principal until he had assessed the situation. He then abruptly hung up, not even giving her the opportunity to ask for further information about the Quagmires.

She sighed, lying back on the bed. The mattress was lumpy, but she wasn't planning on doing much sleeping anyway. This was just a breather before the real work began. Glancing around, she could see the wardrobe, the bedside table, the desk – all the surfaces were curtained by a thin layer of dust. She'd take care of it later. Rolling over, she opened her backpack and took out her spyglass, gently tracing its intricate markings.

'She who hesitates…'

She set it carefully on the bedside table before setting up her laptop on the desk. Those lesson plans weren't going to write themselves and there really wasn't much else she could do before Larry arrived.

The following day turned out to be a Saturday – just as well, since Emily did not manage to sleep a wink. The lesson plans had kept her up until the wee hours and her brain had simply failed to switch off. Lesson plans are hard. Especially when you've never had to make one before. She took the opportunity of rising early to explore her new surroundings without crowds of gaggling students obstructing her view. Throwing on her yoga pants and a jumper, she grabbed her satchel of lesson plans and slipped out the door, locking it firmly behind her.

After dipping in and out of grey, dreary classroom after classroom (and failing to find her own) she finally ventured outside in hopes of something a little more colourful. She did not have to search hard. The grounds appeared to be the school's saving grace; true, the acres of grass seemed yellowed and dry – but the surrounding plants, flowers, trees decorating the edges, they were bright, lush – almost tropical-looking in comparison to the drabness of the school itself. She wandered through the field, occasionally stooping to admire a golden tulip, the ruby roses or some vibrantly violet hyacinths. Her favourite were the roses. There was a whole bush of pearly, opal-white roses with crushed velvet petals. She longed to pluck one, but couldn't herself to ruin their perfect arrangement.

Students were slowly beginning to float through the grounds and Emily, feeling a sudden flood of anxiety returning to prickle her skin, decided to make her way slowly back to the gloomy school. She had to show her preliminary lesson plan to that clown playing at vice principal anyway and considering the amount of amendments he was sure to give her, it was probably best she get it over with sooner rather than later.

Many mentally exhausting hours later, having had her precious lesson plans dragged through the mud repeatedly by a man who called himself the next Mozart yet was unable to strike one correct note, Emily finally trudged back to her room. Not only would she have to rewrite the entire week's plan by Sunday afternoon, she had discovered that her 'classroom' was actually a basement. A basement filled with a pile of old desks, rotting wooden chairs and other junk that needed shifting before Monday along with a deep clean. Fantastic. She unlocked her door, grumbling under her breath and cursing herself for agreeing to be posted of there in the first place.

Immediately upon entering the air froze and she could tell something was amiss. Stiffening against the door, her eyes made a quick sweep of the space. Everything was as it should be, except…

She took a cautious step closer to the bed. There, laid out blindingly against the deep red of the sheets, was a single opal-white rose.