Hazel Watson has been missing for eight years. The last time John saw his little sister was in Afghanistan before she got an emergency call and left. Two months later she turned up MIA. So when Hazel just appears out of the blue renting 221 C from M...
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Hazel's POV
We park in the long driveway of Mr. Henry Knight's estate. The home was beautiful and enormous with a glass conservatory on the side. As we each exit the car, I feel a small tug on my elbow that prevents me from moving forward.
"You seem to be angry." Sherlock says, stating the obvious.
"That's because I am, Sherlock." I huff, pulling my arm back.
"Why?" He says pulling me to face him.
"Because I just risked my job for a goddamn rabbit!" I hiss angrily. "I could lose my job, access to everything, all because of a fucking rabbit."
"That was your choice, not mine." Sherlock hisses back, his voice deepening with anger.
He let go of my arm and raced ahead to the door. I huffed in anger, wanting to throw a rock at him but decided against it.
"Everything alright?" John asked, noticing the tension between me and Sherlock.
"Don't worry about it." I mutter, walking past him.
Sherlock rings the doorbell and almost immediately the door opens. We all greet each other as Henry steps aside to invite us in his home. We wipe our feet and walk in. The high ceilings draw in John's attention, causing me to steer him from a different room to follow our host.
"Are you, um?" John begins to ask but struggles to find the right word.
"Loaded?"
"Rich?"
We say together, earning a small chuckle from Henry. John gave me a look as if to ask "really?" I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed "what" in defense.
"Yes." Henry answers as if we asked him something that was normal.
"Right." John mutters, raising an eyebrow at the decorated room before following Henry to the kitchen.
~~~~~
Sherlock is stirring his second sugar lump into his tea at the island with John in between the two of us. He goes to pass me the sugar but I refused out of pettiness and drank my unsweetened tea. I fought back the urge to crinkle my nose in disgust, pride taking over as I continued to sip the bitter beverage.
"It's-it's a couple of words. It's what I keep seeing." Henry confesses at the end of the island, playing with something on the countertop. "Liberty.."
"Liberty." John exclaims while reaching into his pocket, causing Henry to look up at him.
Henry gives a small nod before continuing. "'Liberty' and 'in'." he states rather anticlimactically. "It's just that." he picks up the milk carton and looks at the three of us. "Are you finished?"
John makes a small noise and gives the man a tight smile. As Henry turns his back to put the milk away, John leans in a bit to whisper to us. "Mean anything to you?"
