The plane ride was quite boring to Allie. She spent most of it in her Mind Palace, talking with Alaya. She got quite a few odd looks from fellow passengers, but Allie didn't care. She was thinking about Sherlock.

"Do you think he's forgotten me?" she asked Alaya for the third time. Alaya looked her in the eye. "How could he forget someone so annoying as you?" she asked with a straight face. The whole demeanor of the room was more different than either of them had ever seen it. "What kind of mood are you in right now?" asked Alaya as both of them craned their necks to look around.

The room was, for whatever reason, eggplant purple. It was empty, but that was not a surprise to Allie. Despite having barely any control over her own mind, Allie was a very organised girl, and this bled into her mind. All of the files were tucked neatly away, and they would appear when Alaya asked for them.

"While my brothers have struggles trying to find the right room," Allie once said, "I have troubles convincing myself that I actually need the files!"

"I'm kind of nervous," Allie told Alaya. "But thrilled at the same time! It's fantastic! … And I might throw up." Alaya rolled her eyes. "You're usually cool as a cucumber," she said, and as soon as the words escaped her, the hideous shade of purple faded into a light, minty green.

"Much better," said Alaya approvingly, but as soon as she said it the walls once again changed colours. "Stop it!" she cried, spinning to face Allie. "It's making my head ache!" Allie looked around desperately. "I know, I'm sorry," she said. "I can't help it, it's doing it all on its own!"

The room started spinning, slowly at first and then quicker. "Maybe you don't like flying?" suggested Alaya, but Allie shook her head. "I think I'm going to puke," she exclaimed, covering her mouth.

Immediately the spinning stopped. "Finally," Alaya started to say, but she stopped. "Ugh," said Allie, looking around. The walls were now a pukish, green-yellow colour. "Okay," said Allie, taking a step back. "I'm going to leave now…" Alaya moved towards her, but Allie was faster.

Reopening her eyes, Allie smiled. She was once again on the aeroplane, and Alaya was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the ugly colour.

A few hours later the plane landed, and Allie made her way from it towards a taxi. Once she arrived at her hotel, she went up to the front desk.

"Hello," she said. "Hi," said the woman at the desk. "I have a reservation," said Allie. "Riley?" The woman ran her hand down a list of names. "Ah, Miss Riley!" she said. "Yes, you're right upstairs. Do you need a bellboy to take your luggage?" "That's not necessary," Allie said. She had her purse over her shoulder and her one bag lying on the ground next to her.

She turned to walk away, but inspiration suddenly struck her. "Excuse me," she said, turning back. The woman looked up. "Do you by any chance know which room a William H. is staying in?" she asked. The woman shook her head. "We aren't allowed to give you that information," she said. Allie nodded and walked away.

An hour later found Allie in the lobby once again, quietly observing.

The workers are all wearing white, she noted. With black aprons. The ones with hats work in the kitchens, the ones with bow ties work at the front desk, and the people who deliver to the rooms wear little coats.

She watched a bit more before silently approaching a worker who was leaving. "Do you want me to hang that up for you, Sir?" "Yeah, sure," said the man, eager to leave. Allie took it and raced to the loos, where she straightened her clothing and slipped on the coat. "A little big," said Alaya. "But not bad."

Allie walked back into the lobby. "Want me to take that?" she asked another worker. "No, thanks," said the worker suspiciously. Allie purposefully dropped a pen and, when she bent down to get it, spilled a glass of water onto the carpet. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Wait here, I'll go get you another glass of water. And a napkin."

With the waiter standing nearby, Allie then approached the front desk worker, someone different from earlier. "Excuse me, Sir," she said to him. "Some idiot in the kitchen forgot which room was having this delivered." She motioned to the waiter standing there with his cart. "He believes the name of the caller to be a Mr. William H.?"

"William H.?" asked the man. He looked through the guest book. "Ah, here it is," he said finally. "Mr. William H., staying in Room… 542." Allie couldn't believe her luck. "Thank you," she said. She grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and shoved it into the waiter's hand. "There you go!" she cried as she raced towards the staircase.

On the way up, Allie found a doorway that had an empty tray of food. Holding the tray, she worked her way up to the fifth floor.

"536… 538… 540… 542," she said finally. She took a deep breath. "I cannot miss this," said Alaya. "Go away," hissed Allie. "I'm about to see my brother!" "And I can't see him, too?" asked Alaya. She stuck out her lower lip in a fake pout. "You run my Mind Palace," said Allie. "You see him every day."

Alaya considered this. "Okay," she finally sighed. Allie watched her disappear. She turned back towards the door and took another deep breath.

She stepped forwards and knocked soundly on the wood. Without even thinking about it, she knocked in a pattern: ... . .-.. .-.. - -..- / -.. . .- .-. -..- / .. / .- - / ... . .-. . (morse code). It was their knock, her's and Sherlock's. The rest of the family always said that they would know it anywhere, because of how long it was, but Allie and Sherlock stuck with it.

Allie was yanked out of her reverie by the door swinging open. "Yes?" asked a very familiar voice, and Allie once again found herself face to face with her brother.