It was meant to be a normal day for Sherlock Holmes. To be precise, it was meant to an uneventful day. It was Saturday, one of the few days in the week that Sherlock was not bothered with cases. It was his observation that people had chosen to bring their woes to Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard, and though he often loved his occupation as a detective, it pleased Sherlock that the stern inspector was busy this day.

After waking, Sherlock washed his face and had Mrs. Hudson,the landlady, bring him his breakfast; he reclined himself in his chair, with his dog Gladstone at his feet. Just as it seemed he would close his eyes to fall back asleep, there was a knock on the door.

"Mrs. Hudson, can you leave me in peace today?"

There was no answering response, only another knock on the door. Eventually, Sherlock grew frustrated and went to answer the door. To his surprise, it was not Mrs. Hudson who stood at the door, but a little girl with almond-colored eyes and a head ful of curled, black hair. She was dressed plainly, and couldn't have been more than five-years-old.

"What are you doing here, child?" Sherlock asked.

The girl didn't respond, only looked up at Sherlock with eyes filling with tears. Sherlock didn't mean to upset the child and knelt in front of her.

"Don't cry, child. I didn't mean to upset you."

The child, whose eyes still brimmed with tears, studied him and then seemed to understand what he said. She sniffled a bit and nodded.

"This girl must be deaf." Sherlock thought.

Sherlock did not know any sign language, that was something that would fit Doctor Watson's expertise. But he could at least make gestures and make the girl understand.

"Can you..." Sherlock pointed to the girl. "Hear what I am saying?" Sherlock pointed to his ear.

The girl looked confused momentarily, but nodded her head. This stunned Sherlock; if she was able to hear, then why...

"Of course, you fool! She can't speak English!" Sherlock thought.

When Sherlock hit his forehead with his palm, the girl giggled and mimicked him. Sherlock sighed and extended his hand to the girl, but she recoiled.

"I will not harm you. You should come inside, until I can find your parents."

The girl relaxed and, though her eyes reflected her confusion, she took Sherlock's hand and allowed him to lead her inside.

"Now, you sit here." Sherlock lifted the girl and placed her on a small sofa that sat in the corner of the small apartment.

As Sherlock called out the door for Mrs. Hudson, Gladstone wagged his tail and approached the little girl. It was amazing that dog was not friendly towards strangers, but always took to children whenever the chance came to be around them.

Mrs. Hudson finally arrived and Sherlock led her to where the little girl sat and played with Gladstone. Mrs. Hudson, pale and wide-eyed turned to Sherlock, with mouth agape.

"Mr. Holmes, what are you doing with a child?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"She was at the door alone." Sherlock said simply.

"Alone? Could she have been abandoned?" Mrs. Hudson asked, keeping her voice in a whisper.

"That's my theory for the moment, but I must ask you a question: Did anyone enter this building with the child?"

"I wouldn't know, Mr. Holmes. I was in the kitchen until you had sent for me."

"Bloody perfect." Sherlock muttered. "Send for Doctor Watson and tell him the matter is urgent."

Mrs. Hudson nodded and left the room. Meanwhile, Sherlock took a seat across from the child and spoke to her in many languages: French, German, Spanish, Italian and so forth. The child didn't respond to any of them. Finally, he tried the only other language he could speak, but it was a long shot.

"Ai limba română? (Do you speak Romanian?)" Sherlock asked.

The girl nodded eagerly. "Da, domnule. (Yes, sir.)" She said.

Sherlock felt his eyes widened in surprise. At last, he could communicate with the child. "Care este numele tau? (What is your name?)" He asked.

"Crina." The girl said.

Sherlock leaned forward. "Crina, cineva a adus aici? (Crina, did someone bring you here?)"

The girl nodded and looked down at her feet. "Mama a făcut. (Mother did.)" She said quietly.

"Nu stii de ce mama ta a adus aici? (Do you know why your mother brought you here?)"

The girl suddenly seemed stricken with a thought and reached into her coat pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. "Este o scrisoare de la mama. (It's a letter from mother.)" She said.

Sherlock took the paper from the little girl and unfolded it. The contents of the letter were brief, but shocking:

Dear Sherlock,

Crina is your daughter. She speaks only Romanian as you've learned and is five-years-old. Take care of her for I no longer can provide a good life for her. If it is not too much to ask, sir, I hope that you learn to love her.

-S

Sherlock looked up from the letter and stared at Crina in shock. According to the letter, this child was his daughter. He knew well who wrote the letter, and who "S" was. But, he needed confirmation.

"Crina, mama ta este numit Simza? (Crina, is your mother named Simza?)"

The girl smiled and nodded eagerly. "Da, domnule. Asta e numele mamei. (Yes, sir. That's mother's name.)"

Sherlock leaned back in his chair, trying to take everything in. Then, Crina could very well be his daughter. The timing made sense, and she did share some of Sherlock's features, especially his nose. But it was still unbelievable; after all, it was just one night...One night in a dark caravan.