Molly loved looking at the ocean at sunrise. The blending of reds, yellows and blues was truly ethereal and reminded her of home. Not Northamptonshire like her birth certificate claims, but farther up. Way, way up.
She was sat on a hundred-metre-tall rock in the middle of the Bristol Channel a few hundred meters from Milford Haven. She went there on weekends because not even Mycroft would be able to find her there. How could he, when it took her only a tenth of a second to go there from Central London?
Molly stood up and took her jacket off. Unlike most days when she hid her body under several layers, that day she wore a backless top. She closed her eyes and relaxed her back, easing her muscles. As she did, the knots just below her nape unwound and spread out, slowly growing and growing until at last, her twenty-foot-wide wings of pure white were splayed out, light but holding their own against the wind. She smiled as she flapped the pinions a couple of times. It feels so good to be free!
A still, small voice in the wind whispered in her ear. "I miss you, Marmaroth," it said.
"I miss you too, Father."
The small voice spoke again. "You have already thwarted Sherlock's fate so many times. Will you not come Home?"
Molly wrapped her huge wings around herself, suddenly feeling cold. "I can't. The work he does for this country is good. I can't leave him now. Not when he's really helping people,"
A warm breeze circled her, almost hugging her. "Oh, Molly. I know everything. I know you've fallen in love with him a long time ago. I also know that he's fallen in love with you, but I can't allow you to be together unless you choose to be fully human. Not like he has,"
"What?"
"He's no longer a demon, Molly. He's fallen. The question is, are you ready to fall, too?" the voice asked.
But Molly was already diving head first into the water, her wings slowly disappearing on her way down.