"Your husband said to just come up," she said. I nodded and kept my hands busy. "He also said you probably aren't handling this whole thing as well as you put off you are."

I slammed a dish into the sink, "He's an observant one."

"I didn't mean to decieve you Charlie," she said quietly. I turned to look at her finally. "The car accident, wasn't an accident. I was in the middle of an investigation when it happened. When I woke up, my bosses said they had work I needed to finish and that I would have to be undercover for an undisclosed time. They said they had everything taken care of when it came to my family. Little did I know, it meant my husband was dead and my girls thought me dead alongside him. I had no idea, none, that they buried me. I only found out later that your dad was killed as well. And I had no idea about Camille until a few days ago when I saw you the first time." I bit my tongue to keep myself from lashing out on her. "I know it will never make up for it, but I am sorry. I am so very sorry."

I grabbed two tea cups and set them on the table rather angrily before grabbing the water kettle and pouring it over my tea strainer. Teeth clenched, "What the hell were you doing then since you weren't raising Camille and I? What was so important they made you miss out on our lives?"

"Unfortunately, I was sworn to secrecy. I'm not allowed to give you details to that. I've been out of the country, working."

"What are you, some kind of spy or something?" She gave me a smirk and a slight nod of her head. I looked at her, shocked. "But you ran the pub with da. That's all you ever did. You both just ran the pub."

"No sweetheart," she said shaking her head as I sat down, my knees giving out, "You girls only thought that was all I did. It was for your safety that your dad and I didn't tell you the truth."

"So you lied to us. Our whole lives, you just lied to us," I snarled.

"Charlotte, you have to understand. If you knew the world I dealt with, you'd know it wasn't safe at all for you and your sister to know anything," she replied calmly. "The plan was to tell you both when you were done with school and then the case I was working on caused me to go undercover for the past ten years. I'm sorry I wasn't around. You're father and I had a deal that if something happened and I had to leave abruptly, he would handle it. I thought, when I left, that that is what happened. I didn't know your father died in the accident, no one told me before I left. I'm sorry."

"I had to bury you," I said quietly. "I had to bury da. I even had to bury Camille. You know how hard that is for a person? To bury every single member of your family and be left alone." She sighed and ducked her head at me. "If you were alive, why didn't you write? Why didn't you try to get in touch somehow to let us know you were ok."

"Charlotte, I couldn't," she said firmly. "I'm sorry. I don't know how often you need me to say it, but I am sorry."

"You have no idea what the last ten years have been like for me," I said getting up to pace in front of her, unable to sit there.

"Why don't you sit down and tell me then," she said calmly. I huffed at her and continued to pace back and forth in my kitchen. "Sweetheart, you have to understand. I didn't want to leave you. I never wanted that. I was supposed to be done when I had children, but the pub wasn't doing well at the time and we were going to lose it. Your dad and I talked. We figured it was quickest and easiest way to make sure we could provide for you girls since the pub wasn't doing well. When I went back, the deal was I was only going to do the light footed work. Then something happened and one of the cases they had me on turned out to be a whole lot bigger than we thought. When the accident happened, they came to me and asked me to keep going with the case when I was well. That they would let out I was dead to the public. They were not supposed to tell my family that. They were supposed to let you know I was ok. Had I known your dad died from it, I would've never left."

"Well you did and it was crap for quite some time," I snapped. "If it hadn't been for Camille keeping my head straight, I couldn't even begin to tell you the trouble I would've gotten in to. She kept me together when I graduated and all my classmates were getting hugs and being told how proud they were by their own parents. She kept me together when my ex just up and left one day, no reason, just gone! And then I had to turn around and bury her?" She watched me quietly from where she was sitting, not moving, not saying anything. "And this whole last year, ever since I found out I was pregnant, you know what I wished? I wished that my mum was here to help me. That she could answer my questions and tell me I'm doing it right, give me a shoulder to cry on when my husband couldn't. And as a matter of fact, come to think of it, if it wasn't for that very man, I probably would have followed Camille!"

"Don't say that."

"Why? It's true," I yelled as my eyes stung and my throat grew tight. "Ask him when he comes back. He'll tell you. You can ask Mary too when she gets home. In fact, you could ask everyone in this damn house and they'll tell you how awful it was for me." She got up and walked over to me, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. I stepped back, "Don't touch me."

"Too bad," she said grabbing my wrist and pulling me in to wrap her arms around me. I stood frozen for a moment before the tears finally started flowing and I hugged her back. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. I know I'll never be able to make up for it." She let me cry myself out, the years of repressed anguish and pain releasing into her comfort. When I finally slowed down, she pulled away and put her hands on my cheeks, "Now let's sit down, finish our tea and you tell me all about this husband of yours."

I gave her a small smile and sniffled, "Ok."

"Where'd you meet him?" she asked after I wiped my face and blew my nose.

"Um, at the pub," I replied. "He was keeping an eye on his best friend and was sitting in my booth."

"How long ago was that?"

"Almost a year an a half."

"And already married with a baby?" she smirked.

"Well," I chuckled seeing the look on her face, "you always said, when you find the right one, you find the right one. Plus, Bryna wasn't exactly planned." She raised an eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes, "I'm too old for you to lecture me, mum."

"I know," she sighed. "I lost my right to lecture you. Go on. Tell me more about him. He seems like an interesting fellow."

"That's putting it mildly," I chuckled. "He's a bit of a sociopath, but we bring out the better qualities in each other. John says he's gotten loads better since he first met him."

"Who's John?"

"Mary's husband and Sherlock's best friend."

"Mary...Mary Morstan?"

"The one and only," I chuckled.

"Was that her at the pub running the bar?" I nodded. "Wow. You both have grown into such lovely young women. How are her parents?"

"Good. They moved up to Limerick to raise bulldogs," I answered. "In fact, we got our dog from them."

"And I'm sorry. I didn't catch your husband's name."

"Oh. Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes." The happy smile disappeared off her face. "What?"

"Nothing," she said sitting back in her chair.

"Mum."

"He doesn't have an older brother does he?"

"Yea," I said giving her a wary look. "Why?"

"Any idea what his father does?" she asked innocently.

"Not really. I only met the man on Saturday."

"Charlotte," she said grabbing my hand. "Do me a favor. Pack up your things, take your daughter, and go."

"What!?" I asked, shocked by the turn of events. "Why in bloody hell would I do that?"

"That family is nothing but trouble. Leave. Get out now before something happens to you."

"Mum, what are you on about? I'm not leaving Sherlock. It's out of the questions." She huffed at me and went to say something else, but I cut her off. "I don't care what you say. You were right before, you can't lecture me and you can't order me around. You lost that. So spit it out. What's the problem you have with my in-laws?"

"Siger Holmes is one of my superiors," she said finally. "And in short, not a very nice man. I've only ever met Mycroft in passing, twice. I knew he had a younger son, but never saw him, or met him. Trust me when I say you'd be better off leaving."

I shook my head, "Mum, you're asking me to trust you after I just found out you've been lying to me my entire life. I love Sherlock. I am not leaving him. It would destroy the both of us. And if you ever want to be in you're granddaughter's life, you'll stop suggesting I leave him."

"Fine. Ask him about Sherrinford and make your own decision."

"What's Sherrinford?"

"Not what, who. Just...just ask him. See what he tells you."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever." There were footsteps coming up the stairs. It was only one pair, so I knew Sherlock wasn't back yet. "Mrs. Hudson?"

"Hello dear," she greeted back when she got to the landing. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company."

"It's ok," I said getting up. "This is Alexa, my mum. Mum, this is Mrs. Hudson, our landlady."

"Pleasure," Mrs. Hudson said before it clicked what I said. "Wait, did you say your mum?"

"Yup," I nodded. "Apparently not dead, just away on business. Seems to be a thing that happens around me..."