|♢| Chapter 2 |♢| Threat Through Lilies

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The envelope has been bent in the two lower corners yet keeps a bright white color showing the paper itself isn't old, however, it has gone through a trip to get to you, therefore, it had most likely been delivered by mail which adds a small amount of relief. The writing on the front read '(Y/n) (L/n) Melling Drive, Enfield EN1 Flat 26' in a fancy cursive Sherlock recognizes right away. Clearly, the man hasn't tried to hide his identity. Hell, he might as well have signed his name.

The letter itself had been folded into thirds and, when opening it up, a preserved lily fell onto the desk. It's a dark pink one with a white outline and dark dots that decorate each petal; all the color dulled with age. In the lower left-hand corner of the paper, 'Be There Soon' was written along with a small heart drawn underneath. Judging on how the writing is both neat and incredibly thin, the writer used a fountain pen. Said pen leaked a little towards the end, splashing a few specks by the faded 'soon'. He ran out of ink, switching writing utensils to draw the heart which is a lighter grey color verses the inky black. Most likely to a ballpoint as it's also far thicker.

One could say this is all some harsh joke someone is playing on the poor girl, but Sherlock knows that is near impossible with the given evidence. That flower is a dead giveaway itself. Several people know about what had happened in the past, but only three know about the lily connection.

"This was in the mail? Did you happen to see anyone put it there?" Sherlock finally speaks, flipping the paper around in his hands to make sure he didn't miss any details, although, as you had informed him earlier, there isn't much to go off of other than the simple information he's already found. 

"No, the mail's delivered usually while I'm at work. It wasn't until I got home that I found it," you've been sitting in Sherlock's chair for the last few minutes, slowly shaking your mug in a circular motion and watching the tea inside swirl like calm waves.

Sherlock stays quiet for a moment, finding no new details about the letter as predicted. Standing, he puts it safely inside the desk drawer," I'll do some tests tomorrow to see if I can't find when the words were written. If we're lucky, this could just be something he's written from before his arrest that a family member has sent out. Perhaps he even wrote it while imprisoned and sent it out himself. Prisoners are allowed to send and retrieve letters."

"But you don't actually believe that, do you?" You tear your attention from the tea, watching Sherlock walk pass," I've moved since his arrest and, per the restraining order, he isn't supposed to know anything about me nor have contact. Even if he discovered where I live, the prison shouldn't allow-"

"-The law system hardly works like it should. They could've not been watching him one day."

"Then how'd he get the lily while locked up? I find it difficult to believe a prison would conveniently have a lily garden for his disposal," You challenge.

"A visitor could've given it to him. Criminals can be sneaky when they want to and you'd be shocked to see what they can sometimes accomplish. Besides, last time I checked, prisons don't have lily detectors-"

"-Sherlock," you stand, your voice stern causing him to glance at you lazily," you aren't that stupid, in fact, you're the far opposite. He's out of jail. He must be whether you want to admit it or not! I don't see any other reason for him suddenly messing with me all these years later! I know everyone tells me to forget about the case and that everything will be fine, but it can't be if he's out!...H-He'll come after me again and then what? What will I do...?" 

He stares at you blankly, noting how your expression went from anger and irritation to a mix of disbelief and fear. Finally tearing his eyes away from you, he squeezes past to replace your spot in his chair," you should leave this all to me. I know what I'm doing, and this man won't be any concern to you for long. Why don't you go down and ask Mrs. Hudson for some night clothes? I'm sure she'd love to visit with you anyways. She gets tired of us."

You frown yet obey, disappearing down the steps. Once you're gone, John takes the chance to finally exist the kitchen where he's been hiding throughout the conversation, having chosen to simply stay out of both of your ways and listen in from afar, although, he had been offered very few of the context clues in which he desires meaning he'd have to actually ask for them," what's this all about? What are you both worried about?"

"It's none of your business-"

"-Like hell it is, Sherlock! Some random girl's going to be staying in our flat and she's apparently in some type of danger! I think I have a right to know what I'm going to be dragged into because we both know I will be!" The short man argues with a hiss.

Sherlock doesn't say anything too quickly but after realizing John will never let it go, the detective gives in," (Y/n), as I told you, is an old friend. Six years ago a man had tried to kill her. If he ever gets out of prison, she'd be the first person he'll set his eyes on."

"You're leaving out details," John points out, narrowing his eyes at his friend who apparently takes him as an idiot (not that the detective will deny thinking so).

"Nothing else is of utmost importance at the moment. I highly doubt this man would take the time to try harming you in any way so you have nothing to worry about."

"And what about you?"

Sherlock's lip twitches upwards slightly into a smirk," I've stood between (Y/n) and him before and, since I plan on doing so again, I bet he's still dreaming about my death as well, but he'll have to get in line; plenty of people do."

John nods, knowing at least that is true even if it's unsettling," so she's just going to stay here until you catch this man?"

"Yes, that or I'll go stay with her," Sherlock gives a hum, pressing his fingertips against his chin in thought. He's quiet for a moment before mumbling more to himself than to John,"...(Y/n) is safest on Baker Street..."

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