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There are hair-thin breaks in what was forever.
DI Dimmock is on her side, DS Hopkins is on Anderson's side, Lestrade is neither, new Chief is on their (Anderson's and hers) side, Dr. Hooper is passive-aggressive and let's just forget John Watson.
There is an edge between her and her lover. An edge they never acknowledge. An edge, expected by others. Suddenly, they're Macbeths, they killed the King of Crime. They killed Moriarty, and they must break under the weight of victory.
People she never met before spit on her door, paint it blood-red. Anderson's wife receives two anonymous letters. She leaves, she's who knows where now, and he leaves too, to Dublin of all places.
Sally waits.
She's much colder now; it is appropriate. After all, she was clever enough to suspect Holmes. And, yeas, her colleagues don't really appreciate having such (murderous, true) competition.
She gets tip-offs from unsavory characters - thank-yous for helping Sherlock off himself. It stings. It also helps in a few investigations.
In a year after The Fall, she spends all her free time in Archive, trying to understand. When did Holmes begin to organize crimes? How did he manage to slip unnoticed? The reports are intentionally vague; previous investigators found nothing. All Moriarty left is his Chain of Logic - his DNA, really. All crimes solved unusually quick (or by leaps of reasoning so incomprehensible) are Freak's toys. It is infuriating that she can follow his reasoning. When it gets easier for her, Sally books an appointment with some posh shrink (but work, work, half-hearted dates and more work - she forgets about it).
When she interrupts their new forensic guy about to mangle what later becomes their key clue, Lestrade looks down and smirks. When she falls asleep on Holmes' study of types of tobacco, Dimmock leaves her coffee (she breaks the cup and hides the monograph under mountain of paperwork).
... Anderson is wounded in a stupid, stupid raid, a drug bust that went wrongly; she feels whole again. She is once again made of solid, unbreakable matter. It is fear. She gets so drunk, it's like another hidden talent.
She knows, it's His revenge.
Next day, Lestrade gives her a file. Something new on Sherlock he - and higher-ups - must've found.
She doesn't open it. No time; they are called to investigate the death of one Ronald Adair.