After Sherlock had gone, Molly walked back into the ballroom alone. For a while she just stood there, watching the people dressed in their finest, admiring the light cast by the jewels and the crystal chandeliers. She felt like she was outside it all, an observer of some strange but beautiful ritual of which she was not a part, so she was surprised when someone touched her arm.

The man was somewhat handsome with white hair and long nose. His tuxedo coat hung a little long at his back, and he had a red rose in his lapel.

"Hello. I was watching you. You dance beautifully by the way. And I was wondering if you would like to take a turn across the floor." he said with a quick glance up and down her body. He held out his hand and smiled.

Molly stared at the man. Then she glanced around the room. He was not the only man watching her. She noticed a number of eyes staring in her direction. She hadn't realized just how much interest her dance with Sherlock had generated. On the dance floor, she had only thought of Sherlock, but people all over had been watching, and now that Sherlock was gone, other partners seemed ready to line up to dance with her.

It appeared that she wasn't just an observer. She was one of the shining people. Hers was by far the most beautiful dress, and with her hair flowing down her back she must seem somewhat exotic to the stiff-backed old men who came to the ball to show off their braids and their medals. A waltz was just starting. She had missed watzing due to Wilke's interference. If she wanted to, she could have a different partner for every dance. Here was her chance to dance the night away as the belle of the ball. She imagined twirling round and round the dance floor, men falling over themselves to be with her. She could do it, but she didn't know any of these people, and she wasn't in the mood anymore. She excused herself and walked out and down the hall to go to the toilet.

She entered the lavatory and immediately went to wash her hands. Looking at herself in the mirror, she noticed how her hair was draped loosely around her face, one strand hanging down her back, and another curled up on her left shoulder. She looked around to see if anyone else might have some hair pins she could borrow, and she noticed Gina sitting on the couch near the door.

"Gina! I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"

Gina was sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her. She scowled. "No. I am not all right. I twisted my ankle."

Molly came over then and bent down. The ankle was red and starting to swell. "Oh my! Are you in much pain?"

"I'm okay. I just took pain medicine. I knew that coming here would be a disaster. I was so scared of being called out as an imposter at this ball with all these posh people, that I splurged on the blingiest looking shoes I could find, but the wicked little things turned on me."

"You should go home. You need to put ice on that as soon as you can."

"I want to, but Joseph isn't ready yet. Apparently now is prime time for finding donors, when everyone is a little bit tipsy and open to new ideas. He told me to wait."

"Nonsense. Just because he wants to hang around, that's no reason for you to suffer? You could be sitting here half the night. If you don't treat that soon, it will be that much worse for you tomorrow. Come on, Gina. I'll get you home." She reached out and helped Gina to her feet. Then she put her arm around her back and led her to the door.

"But the party...your date?" She objected.

"He's already gone, and I've had quite enough dancing for now. Come on. I have a car waiting."

"A car? You have one waiting? Are you sure you just work in a morgue?"

Molly smiled. Then she pulled open the door and helped Gina out.

A black car was indeed waiting when they went out to the curb. It whisked them away on the long journey to Gina's orphanage. She thanked Molly profusely for the ride, but when it was obvious that she could hardly walk on her own, Molly insisted on going inside with her.

The place was dark. The atrium lined with dark wood and hooks holding many small coats. They past through a window-lined hall into what looked like a dining room. Gina turned on the light, and then sat at the end of a long wooden table. A boy walked in, tall with round glasses and curly orange-hair that reached his shoulders. He saw them and rushed over.

"Miss Gina, are you hurt?"

"She's twisted her ankle," Molly said. "Can you get her some ice?"

"Yes," the boy said before rushing off into the kitchen.

"Thank you for getting me home," Gina said. "You don't have to stay."

"It's okay. I don't have anywhere else to be tonight. Do you live here in the orphanage?"

"Yes. I'm the house mother. They are all my children, until we can find them new families."

"It looks nice this place, with the lights on. I thought it would be larger and scarier. Like in that show, Oliver."

Gina laughed. "No, it's not quite that bad. We are just a little home, only forty-four beds. We're a private orphanage started by wealthy benefactors over one hundred years ago. We've been here quietly doing our job ever since."

The boy returned with the ice and she placed it around her swollen ankle. "Thank you, Walter," Gina said.

Suddenly a young brown-haired girl with one brown eye and one blue rushed into the room. "Miss Gina!" she cried rushing across to give the woman a hug. "You're home. Will you read to us?"

"Don't be selfish, Nut!" Walter said. "Miss Gina is hurt."

Gina smiled. "I suppose I can tell you just one story." She tried to rise to her feet, then cried out in pain.

Molly helped her back down to her seat. "You need to keep that ice on your ankle for at least another fifteen minutes. Why don't you let me go. I bet that I can think of a story or two to tell."

"You don't need to do that, Molly. They'll be fine. They should have been asleep hours ago anyway."

Molly looked down to find the girl tugging on her dress. "Wow! This is so beautiful. You look like an angel."

Molly smiled. "No one's ever said that to me before. That is, no one but my dad."

"You have a Dad?"

"I had one."

"I never did. What's it like?"

"Natalie, don't pester our guest like that. It's time to go to bed."

"But our story!"

"I can do it," Molly said. "I'm sure I can come up with a story to tell them, if it's okay with you."

Gina sighed. "Okay. Walter, show Miss Molly to the dorms."

The boy nodded and walked to the door. He turned back to see if Molly was following, and when he looked at her, his eyes grew as wide as saucers. Molly thought she must be a strange sight in her expensive dress with her hair tossed messily around her head. The little girl, Nut or Natalie, grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her down the hallway and into a long room filled with bunk beds. Children scattered as they entered, rushing back to their beds. Others sat up in bed peering over their blankets as they noticed a stranger in their midst.

"Hey everybody!" Natalie yelled. "Miss Gina brought Miss Molly here to tell us a story."

At first there was silence as dozens of young eyes turned her way. Then children piled out of beds running over to get a closer look at her. They crowded around reaching out to touch her dress and her hair. Walter pushed them away.

"Don't swamp her. She's only being nice since Miss Gina hurt her ankle."

"Miss Gina's hurt?" One thin dark-skinned girl said looking concerned.

"She'll be fine. She just needs some rest," Molly said. "She told me you needed a bed time story. I'll tell you one, but only if you all get back into bed."

"You heard her. Lights out!" Walter yelled as the children rushed back to their places. Natalie was the last to go. She touched Molly's dress before pulling her toward the edge of her bed, and climbing into the bottom bunk. Nut turned her eyes to stare at Molly, then Walter turned off the lights.

Natalie cried out, "We can't see her. I want to see her!"

"How about I sit by the window. If I open the curtains, you can see me in the street light. Is that okay?" Molly asked with a gentle touch to Natalie's wrist to calm her.

Natalie nodded, and Molly opened the drapes. Then she pulled a chair over to the window and sat down in Natalie's line of sight. Oh's and Ah's erupted around the room as the light caught her dress which cast rainbow dots across the ceiling that moved as she breathed. The children sighed with delight.

"Alright, not another word from you lot." Walter said. "Miss Molly, if you want to... please tell us a story." The boy sat down on the edge of a nearby bed, and in the darkness she couldn't be sure if he was blushing or not.

"Well," she said racking her mind for an appropriate story to tell. She remembered murders, and funny things found inside bodies, but she didn't think that any of that was appropriate. Then she remembered a story that she had written long ago when she was not much older than Natalie was now.

"Okay, how about I tell you the story of the great Warrior Amo Cera. Protector of women and savior of the innocent."