I do not own Enola Holmes or any of the caracthers in this story exept for my oc, Miss Clover Lane. This story is based upon the Enola Holmes Mysteries by Nancy springer. I higly recomend that you read those first before reading this book, since i will change a few things from the original books. Anyway, i hope you enjoy this book

In the East End of London after dark, August ,1888

The only light struggles from the few has street-lamps that remain unbroken, and from pots of fire suspended above the cobblestones, tended by old men selling boiled sea snails outside the public house.

Two people, both strangers to these streets hudle a little closer together while walking down these streets. They hope that no one will pay attention to the woman, dressed head to toe in all black, a veil of sorrow covering her face. Next to her walked, what can only be presumed to be a young man. Dressed in a pair of brown pants and a dark blue jacket, both in horrible condition, and a cap that was postion so that you could'nt see his face.

It should be unthinkable for these to to be seen together, a widow that was clearly from the upperclass and a simple industry worker, but being proper was the least of there concerns right now. But they are both preapared to do anything to find the one that has been lost.

Together they look down the streets, carfull and calculating, steping over broken glass and watching the rats scurrying all around the streets. The children are runing around, barefoot, on the streets amid broken glass and the rats. They see couples, men in red flannel vests and women in cheap straw bonnets, reeling along arm in arm. They see somone lying lying along a wall, drunk or asleep amid all the rats or maybe even dead.

Looking, they are also listening. Somwhere a hurdy-gurdy spews a jingle into the sooty air. The black-veiled seeker and the 'man' serving as her protector hears that tipsy music. They hear a little girl calling "Daddy? Da?" outside the door of a pub.

The black-veiled woman takes the hand of the 'man' walking next to her, stoping him from walking towards the child and helping it find her father. They look at eachother, but the woman in the veil simply shakes her head. There is nothing they can do right now, they need to help themselves first. The 'man' nods, a simple jesture of understanding and looks back forward. But they don't let go of eacothers hands, it fells reassuring to know that they have a friend with them.

They hear screams, laughter, drunken cries, street vendors calling. "Oysters! Sauce 'em in Winegar and swaller 'em whole, fat 'uns four fer a penny!"

They smell the vinegar. They smell gin, boiled cabbage and hot sausage, the salty waft of the nearby harbour, and the stench of the river Thames. They smell the rotting fish. The raw sewage.

Togheter as one they quicken their pace. They must keep moving, for not only are they seekers, but they are sought. The black veiled hunter is hunted, and the 'man' who has come with her will protect them both against any danger. He will not have them found out. Them men that are persuing them can not find them.

At the next street-lamp, they see a woman with Painted lips and smudged eyes waiting in a doorway. A hansom cab drives up, stops, and a man in a tail coat and a shining silk top hat gets out. Even though the woman in the doorway wears a low-cut evening gown that might once have belonged to a lady of the gentelman's social class, the two stangers watching does not think the gentleman is here to go danceing. They see the Prostitute's haggard eyes, haunted with fear no matter how much her red smeared lips smile. one like her was reacently found dead a few streets away, slit wide open. Averting their gazes, the two strangers keep on walking hand in hand down the street.

An unshaven man against the wall winks towards the black-veild of the two. "Missus, what yer doing 'ere on this chilly night? Why don't ye come with a real man and join me inside?"

The 'man' walking next to the black-veild woman tightens his grip on her hand, that's the only sign of anger coming from him. They walk past him, ignoring him, exept the dark look the womans companion sends the man leaning against the wall.

They can not speak to anyone. No-one can recognice them. They don't belong here. But that does not trouble them. They have never belonged any where, exept for with eachother. Thy would always be together. Together but still they must always be alone. They can only risk eachother as company.

But still with this knowledge, a pain is still precence. Now, they don't even have a home, they are both strangers in the world's largest city, and they don't know if they will have a safe place to sleep tonight. They only have eachother, and they just have to pray that Lord will spair there lives until morning, with only hope to find the one that they are searching.

Deeper and deeper into the shadows and East Londons dockside slums, they walk on.

They have sworn to always be togheter. But expet for eacother they will always be

Alone.

A/N

I hope you liked this proluge! Again, i dont own anything in this book exept for my oc. we will see where this story takes us.

Bye!

- OneCrazyWriter