The next morning Molly woke up very early. A look at her watch showed that it was just a little after half past half past six in the morning. But as expected, Molly couldn't sleep very well after Sherlock left last night. Her thoughts kept circling around her reunion and what he told her.
Today was Sunday and actually Molly was able to sleep a little longer.
The weekly mass did not start until 10am, as every Sunday. After that a meeting with all the residents of the parish was called for today. Molly had heard about these meetings from her neighbours before, but had never been there herself. She was a bit nervous but also curious. Finally the topic of the meeting was not yet announced.

After several attempts to fall asleep again, Molly failed miserably and finally decided to leave her bed. Slowly and still very exhausted, she slurped into her bathroom to take a long shower, perhaps to get a little more lively.
She asked herself a little later when she got out of the shower and tied a towel around her body.

Molly had offered Sherlock her help in solving the case and he said he would let her know if he needed her help. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but she didn't want to think about him all day.

After she had finished showering, she decided to have breakfast first. After all, she had plenty of time before mass was to begin. She quickly changed the towel with fresh underwear and then threw on her fluffy bathrobe. Then she went on to her kitchen to prepare her breakfast.
Since the days were slowly getting warmer, she always took her breakfast in her back garden. She enjoyed the warm first rays of the day's sun on her skin and the silence that morning brought.

This garden was her little oasis. Where she could retreat and switch off completely. She was sipping her coffee when the doorbell interrupted her.
She stood up carefully with her cup in her hands and then went to the door. She was slightly surprised at who could visit her at such an early hour.

Slightly hesitant, she grabbed the doorknob and then opened it carefully. Her heart leapt a little when she saw who was standing at her door.

"Good morning, Molly. I hope I didn't wake you up?" he then asked.

Molly opened the door completely and was about to close it again as soon as she saw his gaze on her body and she realised she was only wearing underwear and her bathrobe. And not only that. Her bathrobe had opened slightly when she got up without her noticing. And now she was standing half-naked in front of Sherlock Holmes. He had never seen her in her underwear, let alone so much skin of her at once, not even when he lived with her for some time.

Sherlock cleared his throat briefly.
"Um...may I come in?" he then asked slightly embarrassed and ran his hands through his hair.

Molly looked down in shame. With one hand she covered her bathrobe and with the other she indicated to him to come in. Her cheeks gradually heated up and her face colour slowly changed to that of a tomato. After he had entered, she closed the door and disappeared into her bedroom as quickly as possible. She secretly hoped that he had not seen her face. But what was she deluding herself? We are talking about Sherlock Holmes, who notices every oh-so-small change.

Meanwhile, Sherlock walked on towards her living room. He was still slightly embarrassed. Sure, he had lived with her for some time after his faked death, but she was always very careful about how she presented herself to him. He had never seen her like that before. He also noticed that this situation had also been extremely unpleasant for Molly, especially after she had run like lightning into her bedroom. At that thought a little smile formed on his face. He simply loved her shy nature.

Molly wanted to sink into the ground. It was infinitely embarrassing for her and above all that HE had seen her like that. She thought for a moment whether she could stay in her room forever. Surely he would disappear again sometime. But then she remembered that she had offered Sherlock her help and that he would contact her if he needed it.
It was all to no avail. Molly had to face it. So she quickly picked out her clothes for the day and put them on. She put on a bit of make-up, hoping to cover up her tomato-like complexion. She tucked her hair back with just a few strands and let it hang loosely over her shoulders.
Then she looked in the mirror once more and spoke to herself:

"You can do this Molly" and then slowly walked out the door.

She had just arrived in the living room and had already put her words into her head when she realised that Sherlock was not there. Slightly confused and with a questioning look, she looked around and then saw that her patio door was still open. Slowly she approached the back exit of her house. And there he stood. In the middle of her little green oasis, looking up at the sky.

"So Sherlock, what's going on?" she then asked slightly nervously after approaching him.

Sherlock drove around in horror. Apparently he was just lost in thought.

"Um, well..."

What was wrong with him? Sherlock didn't know what to say, what to do. Apparently, he was still embarrassed by the previous situation. He hadn't even felt like that when he saw the woman standing completely naked in front of him. So what was different now?
Then he took a closer look at the person standing in front of him.

"Your hair is shorter" he then noted.

Molly stroked a few strands between her fingers.
"Um, yes, well..." she began to stammer.

"It looks good" he interrupted her and smiled a little.

What was that? Did Sherlock Holmes just compliment her on her appearance?' Molly then asked herself in her mind.

"So Sherlock, what do you want? You don't just come into my house so early, compliment me on my new hairstyle without wanting anything from me?'' she then asked.
After all, she knew all too well that Sherlock always gave compliments when he wanted something.

He thought 'I want you' for a moment, but then shook his head slightly and looked at her in astonishment. He was slightly surprised at her reaction to his compliment. After all he meant it honestly. Then all of a sudden, he remembered. He had only ever complimented Molly when he needed something from her.
'Oh man, had I been a dick' he thought to himself.

But how could he ask her now what he had come here for?
He finally decided to tell her the truth. After all, she already assumed that he was telling her the truth anyway.

"Um, so I thought about everything again yesterday and did some research. Obviously your friend was right. They were not accidents. And to prove it, I need your support."

"What do you need?"

And all of a sudden, his memories came back of the night he first asked her for her help. She looked at him then so worried, she didn't ask why. Instead, she immediately offered her help. Sherlock didn't know it then, but it was in that moment that he felt that strange connection between them for the first time. Molly had helped him again and again over the years without asking why. And what did Sherlock do? He kept behaving like a complete idiot towards her and trampled on her feelings.
He had messed up then, he knew that. If he had been more clear about his feelings, Molly wouldn't have gone to Ireland. She would still be with him. But now, now he was here. Here with her and for some reason, even if he didn't believe in it, fate gave him a second chance. And Sherlock was sure he wouldn't mess it up this time.

"Sherlock?" Molly then asked Molly slightly irritated and looked at him questioningly.

He noticed her look and then shook his head briefly to wipe those thoughts away for now.

"Anyway. The first victim, Mrs. Daly. I need the autopsy file. Do you think you can get that somehow?"

"Sure. If she was autopsied in Waterford, the file will be there somewhere. I'll look for it first thing tomorrow." Molly promised.

"Very well. In the meantime, I will pay a visit to the local police."

Molly nodded understandingly. But then she had to ask Sherlock to leave. A glance at her watch showed that time was already quite advanced and she soon had to leave for church.