16. A Twist in the Game

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I sauntered over to the windows with John, waiting to see the police car disappear. I wanted to chuck something at Donovan the moment I saw her climb into the car. Before he got in, Greg stole a temporary look up at us through the window. My brows came together in concentration as the car started up.

"They'll be deciding," Sherlock noted.

"Deciding?" John and I asked in unison.

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me."

"You think?" John asked.

"Standard procedure."

"You should have gone with them," I said, yawning. "People will think..."

"I don't care what people think."

"You'd care if they thought you were stupid, or wrong," John sided with me.

"No, that would just make them stupid and wrong."

"Sherlock." John's voice contained a hint of anger. "I don't want the world believing you're..."

I pulled my gaze away from the window when John cut himself off. I looked from him to Sherlock. Both were staring at each other, I felt like I was in the middle of the crossfire.

"That I am what?" Sherlock pressed.

John was hesitant. "A fraud."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, sitting back in the seat. "You're worried they're right."

"What?"

"You're worried they're right about me."

"No."

"That's why you're so upset. You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."

John turned his attention back out the window. "No, I'm not."

"Moriarty is playing with your mind, too." I cringed when Sherlock slammed his hand onto the table. "Can't you see what's going on?"

I could. I knew what Moriarty was doing. Unlike John, the idea of Sherlock kidnapping those children would never have an ounce of truth to me. There was no way he could have done it. Moriarty was manipulating others into believing Sherlock wasn't who he said he was.

"No, I know you're for real," John finally said. I let out a relieved breath.

"A hundred percent?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time."

"That is true," I vouched.

"Rachel," Sherlock addressed me.

"Yes?"

"I know he came to visit you."

I swallowed. "I don't—"

"If you try to hide the fact the only thing you'll succeed at is embarrassing yourself."

"Moriarty visited you?" John gasped. "When?"

"Today, not long after we left for St. Aldate's," Sherlock told him.

I stood there, frozen. Someone's phone went off. I knew it wasn't mine, I'd turned mine off. When John took out his, he lumbered towards the middle of the living room.

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