-Discovering Isabelle Holmes

Lillian Holmes had never put too much thought to her dead mother-oh sorry- her passed on mother. She had only been a few months old when the woman she hadn't even called mum yet was in a terrible car accident, so why worry?
She figured that if she had been old enough to remember her mother, then she might sigh every Thursday at Six-O –five PM on the dot (the time and day she died) like her father did, or possess some reason to by "angsty" -but she didn't and she wasn't.

It was only on one horrendously boring Tuesday, when Lily snuck into her father's room and saw an actual picture of Isabelle Holmes that she took her mother as a real person. Someone who had lived, rather than some fictional character her father brought up every couple months.
Slowly she picked up the small framed picture of her mother in her wedding dress, and stared.
She was sort of plain with a pale freckled face and a small nose. She wasn't especially shapely, in fact she was rather flat chested and with little hips to speak of and besides that- quite tall.
Lillian found this woman oddly beautiful. She had lively hazel eyes and long chestnut hair that went down to her thighs and a crooked overly large smile as she held out her hand to proudly show off her wedding ring to the camera.

"Lillian Rosalie-Sophia Holmes."

Lillian felt cold run down her spine at the drawling aristocratic (and deeply seeded with amusement) voice that belonged to her father -Mycroft Holmes.
"Ahhh," Lillian said turning slowly to face him. He was standing in the doorway with a rather blank expression on his face, one hand resting on the wooden frame.
"Ahhh is not a word Lillian," he said coolly as he strode across the room to pluck the frame from his daughter's hand.
Lily considered making a dash for it (he would never go running after her) but instead sat down upon her father's (quite frankly) enormous bed and stared at her feet with great interest.
"I was hoping to find…something," she said quietly, a strange feeling rising inside. Usually Lillian would have been defiant and babbling on about how bored she was and how he was entirely unfair for banning her from his room, but she couldn't keep her mind off that picture…off her mother.
Mycroft Holmes raised an eyebrow, "That is a very pathetic excuse dearest," he said placing the picture back onto his side table; he then sat himself down next to Lily, fingers twining over his knees.

The teenager toyed with her long blonde (yes, blonde) hair, "Daddy," she said quietly.
"Yes Lillian?"
"What was my mother like?"
This clearly caught her father by surprise and he shifted his position uncomfortably, "What does it matter?" he asked, effectively clearing his throat.
Lillian shrugged, "I dunno, it just does. I figured I might as well find out at some point," she shrugged, putting no sign of commitment to her question in her voice.
Mycroft seemed to accept this, sighing softly through his nose.

"I suppose it is cliché to describe her as wonderful, but that is the word I would use…"

*Now edited

Please review!