Hello everybody ! You are in the right place for a beautiful story, well I hope so... I am French, so it is possible that there are some mistakes, but it will be better with the time, I promise! The beginning is not very good, but please read at least until chapter six. Good reading!

« Dear Mia,

I read your letter last week. It has been two years since your parents died, and I didn't know that you are actually living in this school that you compare to hell. I am a bad godfather and it's really a shame, so I propose you to live with me, I owe a flat in the center of London. To be honest, I have already sent your inscription in a school not too far from your new home. The address is 221 Baker Street. Just come when you are ready.

John"

Two weeks later…

I walked down the busy street, head down on a map held by my right hand. 221 Baker Street. Where could it be ..? After five minutes of research, I found the entrance and knocked a few times. A smiling lady gave me a hug.

- You must be Mia, don't you?

-Yes, it's me! I said smiling

-John and Sherlock are upstairs, go ahead!

John who had heard our voices opened the door and made me a hug. Despite the fact that we have not seen each other for almost ten years, it did not shock me and I returned the hug. The apartment was pretty cool although I have to admit it's decorating in a way … a bit special. John asked me how the trip had been while I was looking at the skull on thefireplace.

I saw a man sitting on a chair, it must be Sherlock.

-A lot of people on the train? He said, rising from his chair.

-You say that because of the scrape my suitcase has?"

He seemed disconcerted by my answer and then continued.

"A child judging by the height" he said in a tone of "I know everything"

-No, just a little person, I say with a smirk

He approached and held out his hand, a small smile on his face. John looked at us stunned.

"Well, it looks like it's all right?"

He paused, looking at both of us.

He want talk again when a phone rang, Sherlock replied and became very excited. John asked if this could not wait, that he wasn't going to leave me there for my first night in London.

-It's ok John, I'm nineteen I'm sure I could survive. Have fun!

After a lot of apologizes as Sherlock put on his coat and a rather funny hat, they left the flat.

Once I was in my room, I unpacked my suitcase thinking about how much John had missed me, even though I had known him at a young age. He's so kind. I don't remember him very well, to be honest, but he is the last family I have and he is now everything for me. When my parents died, I knew what he was for me, but never I came to him. In a kind of way, I was ashamed to talk to him. I didn't want to speak about what I was feeling. Be here right now was great but make me remember things that I don't want to remember.

But, I remember the cold night of January. I remember waiting for hours, waiting for us. But they never came. I remember the policeman who told me everything. I remember the moment of someone I didn't know told me my parents was dead.

While I was hanging some posters of my favorite band to take away the bad memory, I dropped a box containing some files. "A study in pink"? "The blind banker"?

I fell asleep, their adventures all around my bed.