Narrator's POV

Going to rummage through Uncle Carl's stuff. Don't wait up. Connor and Layla.

P.S. We kinda stole some money from you. We'll pay it back...probably.

Of course they had left a note. They were not stupid. The did not want Sherlock or John to worry. However Layla's hasty scrawl on one of Sherlock's music sheets only seemed to worsen John's worry. He had grown rather fond of the teens, and to find that they were in relation to the deranged bomber's victim was distressing to him. He did not want the twins in danger. However Sherlock remained completely calm...almost. He was rather irritated that Layla had written on his music sheets. He's written half of his new composition on there. Now he'd have to copy out. Sherlock was somewhat amused that the children felt that they could help with his case. He had already solved it, there was no use. But 'whatever floats your boat'. As John would say. He had deduced that Connor had known Carl Powers, but was not particularly sure as to whether there were family relations. How seemingly coincidental...

Layla's POV

Not much is said on the ride over. I contemplate how quickly I am adjusting to life at Baker Street. I've only been here for two days and I've barely thought about Mum. I'd feel guilty but I've been happy for the first time in ages. Mum would want that. And the constant danger...it's oddly thrilling. The train comes to a slow stop and I find myself back at my home. My true home. It's a ten minute walk to the house from the train station. Connor and I remain in complete silence and I'm glad of it. We have different ways of coping, and I know he's never been the talking type. Not about emotions anyway.

We approach the house. There are tears threatening to fall and my throat is beginning to close up. I don't think I can do this. Looking down the driveway...I expect her to walk out of the door and come hug us. She would say Sorry, it was an accident. I'm back now and then she would take us inside and we would have homemade lemonade. I loved her lemonade, I could never make it quite like Mum could. Connor notices my state and takes hold of my hand.

"You don't have to do this." He whispers to me.

"It's ok. I can do it." I compose myself, standing up straighter and taking a deep breath.

"Nah, sis. We can do it. In it together, yeah?" I nod and give him a small smile. It's at moments like this when I really appreciate having a twin.

We walk into the house, you know, after I pick the lock and all. Mum didn't believe in keeping spare keys, thought it made it easier to rob the house. I loved Mum for that. Those quirky little thoughts. The way she'd constantly check herself in the mirror before she left because Uncle Connor had once played a prank on her where he put a 'Cool Kid' sign on her back. At least it wasn't something cruel like 'Kick Me' was what she always said. Before laughing that twinkling little laugh of hers. I look at myself in the mirror. I could never be as beautiful as she was.

Connor nudges me and I snap out of my daze. "You ok?" he asks. His voice is laced with concern.

"Yeah. Just remembering." I wanna close my eyes. Everywhere I look I see her. Even in the little things. The almost invisible stains on the kitchen walls from when we had a food fight. I got honey in my hair, I almost strangled Connor. It took three washes before my hair even felt remotely normal. Mind you, I may have poured baked beans and chocolate sauce all over him. It was fun at the time. I wish I could go back and do it again. A small smile crosses my face. I look over at Connor and see him tearing up. This is the emotional I've seen him since Mum... I walk over to him and hold his hand. We walk upstairs and head into the attic where Mum kept all of her old stuff. Connor and I used to play up here when we were younger. I used to try and fit into mum's rainbow neon jumpsuit. Don't ask me why she owned it, I never asked. I wish I had...

I look across the room to see Connor on his knees, rummaging though boxes. As I kneel next to him he takes a book out of the box. "What is it?" I ask.

"Mum's yearbook." He says as he opens the book. On the first page is a note:

Forever in your heart. JM x

"What the hell?" I ask "Mum never told us about this guy." Come on, it's obviously a guy. Just look at it. Connor and I look confusedly at the note before proceeding with the rest of the book. There are no other notes from mystery men, thank goodness. There he is. He's near the end of the book, but he's there. . Molly's boyfriend. We're in deeper than we think. Whoever this dude was, I'm pretty sure he murdered my uncle...and he was dating my Mum. Maybe not dating, It seems more like stalking to me. Mum said she'd never been in love, she wouldn't lie to us.

"Layla. I think we better go. We need to get back to 221B. I'm serious. Whoever this guy is, he's dangerous. And I can't let you-" He stops as he hears the door open downstairs. There's someone in here with us. There's a window in the attic. They'll get here eventually, but if we open the window they'll know exactly where we are. They could have the place surrounded. We may be going out to gunshots. We may be staying for gunshots. Why don't I have a phone again?