Prologue

I sit staring at my homework. I actually do not care about any of this. Why is it so important to know why the earth goes round the sun? Or who invaded this country at that time? Do I really have to know this? It's all in the past. It all doesn't matter. It's all so boring.

My phone rings. I jump up from my seat to grab it, glad to have some excuse to stop working. Mum, the caller ID reads. I answer.

"Hello?"

"Annabeth, when I get home, we have something very important to discuss."
If it's about school, I don't care, I want to say. "About what, mum?" I ask, in a tone I hope doesn't sound too bored.

I hear her take a deep breath. "It's about your father."

I'm instantly shocked out of my bored stupor. My…father? "What? Why are you choosing to address this now? He left thirteen bloody years ago!"

"It's just…it's come to my attention recently that you don't know who he is, and –"

I cut her off. "Yeah, mum, I don't know who he is, or where he is, or what he does, or…or anything! You've never told me anything!" I'm livid, and so confused. We've had a happy life living without him…why would she bring him up now?

She replies quietly, her tone begging for me to understand. "I-I know, Annabeth, I know. And that's my fault. When I get home, we'll talk about him for as long as you like."

But I can't wait for you to get home! I almost scream. Instead I take a deep breath – calm yourself Annabeth – and say, "Can you at least tell me what his name is?"

Maybe I've heard of him. Maybe I know him, and I've never known it was him…now my mind is racing.

"…Sherlock Holmes."

Hearing her voice brings me back to the world, but I am so caught up in my thoughts that I don't hear her. "What?"

"His name is Sherlock…Sherlock Holmes."

"And he's living here, in London?"

"Yes, Annabeth, he is. Look, I really want to wait until I get home before I tell you any-"

I hear a scream, a crash…then the dial tone.

My blood runs cold. "Mum? Mum?! Oh, no."

I run into the hospital, up to the nurse's desk, pleading, screaming for my mum, for her to be all right, for her to be alive.

"All right miss, calm down, calm down. What's your mother's name?"
"She's been in an accident…please! Please, I have to see her...I-I have to see her right now, okay?"

"Yes miss, we know, but we need a name."

A name? Names weren't important right now!

"Her name, miss?" the nurse insists again.

"Elizabeth! Her name is Elizabeth Meade! Now will you take me to her?" I feel like I should be crying, but the tears don't come.

"Elizabeth Meade? She arrived about 10 minutes ago. She's been in a brutal automobile accident. Are you sure you want to-"

"Of course I do!" I yell. The nurse looks as if I've just reached out and struck her. I mutter an apology. "I just need to see her. I can handle this, it's my mum. I have to see her." My voice cracks, but still no tears.

The nurse eyes me warily. "She's in the ICU. Follow me," she says curtly. I do as I'm told. Why can't I cry?

"Right in here," says the nurse, gesturing toward a room at the end of the hall. "Now, I'm warning you, she's suffered from major wounds, miss, I –"

I rush past her, not caring about anything else except - "Mum!" I exclaim. She's hooked up to numerous beeping machines, surrounded by tubes and wires. I take in her current state. It's not good…not good at all. But I push down the despair that's slowly rising, and put on a brave front. "Mum, just breathe." I focus on the rise and fall of her chest. "It'll all be –"

"Annabeth," she says weakly. Oh, the nurse was right. She's hurt, she's so hurt. "Find…your father. Find Sherlock."

"Mum? Mum, you can't…die. Look, you'll be fine, see-" I grab a tissue from the bedside table, gently clean a little blood off her face. It doesn't do much good. "We'll just get you all tidied up, then you'll be…" I swallow hard. "You'll be good to go." I try to smile, but it hurts.

"Look at you. Always so brave. I've always loved that about you." She looks me in the eyes. "Annabeth, find…Sherlock. Tell him I sent you. He'll know what to do. He always knew what to do…" Her eyes close. The once-steady rise and fall of her chest ceases. I hear the flat-line of the once-consistent beeping machines.

No. NO. This can't be happening. I can't be alone. No. I shake my head. I'm not alone, she's sleeping, and she's fine. "Mum? Mum!" But the reality comes crashing down on me like the weight of the world. She's gone. I grab her hand, I grab her shoulders, I'm shaking her, I'm sobbing, and I'm falling apart, screaming her name…