"So, you work with my dad?" asked Elizabeth, hoping to start a conversation. "What is he like?"

"He isn't the easiest person to work with. I have been working for him for 4 years. But eventually, you fall into this system he has,"

Two hours later, they arrived outside a building which was labelled 'The Diogenes Club', just before it started to rain.

"What is the Diogenes Club?" Elizabeth asked.

"This-"said Anthea while opening the boot of the car to get the luggage, "-is a place where men can go without any distractions. The one rule you must know about this place is that you mustn't talk. I know, it's a ridiculous rule, but that is the whole purpose,"

Without asking any more questions, they walked towards the door. They were greeted by a man already waiting for their arrival. When they proceeded into the hallway, Elizabeth could see an open room which was occupied by men who looked in their early 50's reading the Daily Mail.

Both women proceeded to walk down the corridor, not saying a word to each other. After a couple of minutes, they reached a door that was branded with the words: Mycroft Holmes.

"Wait here," said Anthea as she opened the door to the office.

It was 3o'clock in the afternoon. This was the time when he ordered everyone in the office not to disturb him or to forward calls to him. This routine was interrupted when Anthea walked into the room with paperwork in her hand.

"Anthea, you know what time this is?"

Ignoring his question, she said "I know that you deny your daughters existence-"

"We must not speak of her again," She could tell that Mycroft was losing his patience with her.

"But you can't just turn away from her. Where is the decency in that?"

"Anthea, you showed up an hour late for work to come barging into my office with this nonsense. What have you done?" Mycroft had a look of distraught on his face, he thought of all the conclusions he could think of and came to one which he didn't want to believe.

"Elizabeth is outside of that door, isn't she?"

Anthea didn't have to answer that question, the only thing she could do was leave the room to go talk with Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth?"

Anthea came back out of the office and walked over to the teenager who was sitting on the ledge of a radiator.

"You can go inside now,"

Elizabeth didn't want to move from the position she was in now, she wanted to stay there. But she wanted to see him, she was filled with questions. Slowly but surely, she walked towards the door and opened it slowly. There, she was greeted by a man who looked in his 40's, had brown hair and looked very presentable. He held an umbrella in his hand, which he used to lean himself on.

Mycroft was faced with a teenager who looked around 15 years of age. She had brown hair that swooped past her shoulders. She wasn't dressed in stereotypical teenage clothing, but instead something formal. She had grey eyes, which he understood could have been from his mother's characteristics. He thought to himself: What was he thinking? He can't be a dad. This wasn't his daughter! They don't look...anything alike.

"You must be Elizabeth, you already know who I am" He held out his hand for her to receive, but she didn't take it.

"That's the thing, do I know you? Because apparently, you have doubts that I am your daughter"

"You must understand that this came as a shock to me. I only did what-"

"Anthea also told me what you said about me and my mother. That you don't have any love for us, is this true or not?" Elizabeth's hands were shaped into a fist as she spoke those words of hate "You don't love us. You don't love me. You don't love my mum. You have us. You don't care for u-"

"I just don't believe that you are my daughter. All I see in front of me is an imposter," Even Mycroft agreed that was a bit out of exceptional. He could see a liquid residue escape from her eyes and her capture for breath shortened.

"I HATE YOU! How could you say that? Why am I even here then? Why couldn't you just leave me alone!"

Elizabeth ran out of the building as fast as she can to escape the god forsaken place. She ran out of the building, remembering that she forgotten her luggage. She was on her own in the heart of London: she had no idea where to go after that incident.

"Elizabeth! Come back!" Elizabeth turned her head slightly to see Anthea quick walking behind her. She reached the end of the street to find an available taxi on the side of the road. By now it was pouring with rain and her mascara was starting to show. When she reached the taxi, she knocked furiously on the driver's window to let him know she was there.

"Where will it be?"

That was the problem, where could she go? She doesn't know anyone here.

"Hello? I said where will it be?"

That was when Elizabeth caught a glimpse at newspaper which lay on the passenger seat next to her. The font cover showed a man with curly, raven hair and grey eyes which she could clearly recognise was hers. She came to the conclusion that this Sherlock man was related to her in a way. She lifted up the newspaper and showed him the photo behind the glass that separated them.

"Do you know this man?" asked Elizabeth as she pointed at the picture "If so, do you know where he lives?"

"Oh, that's Sherlock Holmes, the one who 'faked' his suicide three years ago, just appeared out of nowhere yesterday. I think he lives at 221B Baker Street. Is that the place you want to go to?"

"Yes, and be fast about it,"