"Sir, we have arrived at 221B Baker Street."
With the coachman's soft call, the carriage slowly came to a stop.
Russell lightly patted the girl's back in his arms. "We're here. Get ready to get off."
Mary took a deep breath and reluctantly pulled away from his embrace.
She looked down at the pure white velvet dress she was wearing. The hem was completely ruined by snow and mud. Then she touched her loosely curled silver hair, which was slightly disheveled, and gave a bitter smile.
"I must look terrible right now."
"When you were crying like that outside the emergency room, why didn't you seem to care about your image at all?"
Russell joked as he wrapped his large, dark charcoal-gray coat tightly around her again, leaving only her fluffy head exposed.
"Come on. No matter how ugly the bride is, she still has to meet her in-laws someday."
"Who's the ugly bride..."
Mary glared at him reproachfully, but couldn't help smiling at his teasing words.
Russell's boots sank into the snow, giving him a thick, solid feeling underfoot. He turned around and extended his hand toward Mary inside the carriage.
After straightening her appearance a little, the girl firmly placed her hand in his and, with his help, carefully and happily stepped down from the carriage.
When the two reached the door, just as Russell was about to ring the doorbell, the door opened before he could.
Mrs. Hudson seemed to have been waiting at the entrance since early morning. The moment she heard the sound, she happily opened the door.
"I'm so glad you two are finally back!"
The old woman's face was filled with anxiety and worry.
The moment she saw Mary standing outside the door wrapped in a large trench coat, tears immediately welled up in her eyes.
The girl's skirt was covered in mud, her face was as pale as paper, and her once beautiful features now looked somewhat haggard.
"Oh, you poor thing. Come inside quickly. You shouldn't stay outside."
As she spoke, she stepped forward to support Mary and gently guided her into the house.
"When I received the phone call, I couldn't believe my own ears. I never thought something so terrible could happen…"
The moment Mary stepped through the door, the cunning and composure on her face disappeared without a trace, like the tide receding.
Instead, fragility, helplessness, and a sense of collapse lingered, and there was a slight nasal quality to her voice.
"Thank you… Mrs. Hudson." Her words carried some performative elements, but at least this statement didn't sound false.
While interacting with Mrs. Hudson, Mary felt a kind of familial affection she had long been missing— or rather, something like maternal love.
Russell followed behind Mary and closed the door behind them to block out the winter cold.
"Let's stop talking about that now. Come warm up by the fireplace. Russell, bring two clean towels."
Mrs. Hudson gave instructions while seating Mary in front of the fireplace and helping her remove the dirty mantle.
Russell responded and went upstairs. Just then, a door opened, and Russell, standing at the top of the stairs, saw Charlotte on the other side.
"Catch."
Charlotte tossed the towel she was holding to Russell.
"Charlotte, what are you doing in my room…?"
"We'll talk about that later. The hot water is ready."
Charlotte interrupted Russell and fixed her gaze on his face.
"Take a shower and get some rest. You look like you're about to die."
With that, she went straight into her own room and closed the door behind her.
Russell watched her go, tucked the towel into his arms, turned around, and handed it to Mrs. Hudson. After giving a few simple instructions, he returned to his own room.
…
When he woke up, it was already afternoon.
When Russell came out of the bedroom, he saw Charlotte sitting on the living room sofa, drinking black tea using his own tea leaves and teacup.
"…Wasn't that tea sent from Buckingham Palace?"
Russell said, "I was planning to keep it as a souvenir."
"The greatest value of tea lies not in savoring the arrival of spring, but in drinking it."
Charlotte spoke in a calm tone.
"Honestly, I was a little surprised that the first thing you said to me after waking up was this. I thought you would ask where she went."
"Then… what about Mary?"
Russell sighed and took out a guest teacup to pour himself a glass of water.
"She's resting in Mrs. Hudson's bedroom."
Charlotte said, "That's a good story."
"What kind of story?"
Russell raised one eyebrow.
"The discussion about duality and repression is logically perfect and perfectly explains that look in her eyes."
Charlotte said.
"Mrs. Hudson now believes that Arthur Hudson got what he deserved and says Mary can stay here as long as she wants."
"She's a born actress. It's a shame she doesn't have the talent to play the lead role at the Royal Opera House."
"So, what exactly are you trying to say?"
Russell asked with an indifferent expression.
"Was last night's fire really an accident?"
Charlotte asked directly. It was a question, but her tone sounded almost like a statement.
Hearing this, Russell met Charlotte's gaze without flinching, picked up the glass of water, and took a sip to moisten his throat.
"Arthur Morstan had been drinking heavily these past few days. At the time of the incident, he had consumed a large amount of whiskey or some other alcohol. Combined with fatigue and excessive drinking, he was severely weakened and was in a state of near sleep, completely unaware that a fire had broken out."
This was supported by Inspector Lestrade's on-site investigation report and the emergency blood test results from St. Thomas' Hospital, which detected a high concentration of alcohol.
"Really?"
"As long as she didn't bribe the entire Scotland Yard and St. Thomas' Hospital, it's the truth."
Russell said.
Charlotte stared into his eyes for five seconds, but Russell maintained a poker face the entire time.
"Scientific data cannot represent the whole truth, especially when other variables are involved."
Charlotte took a step forward and reached out to straighten Russell's collar. Her tone was indifferent.
"However, since Scotland Yard has already officially classified this fire as an unfortunate accident, we might as well treat it as such for now and see it as an opportunity to boost Lestrade's confidence."
She placed the empty teacup down, picked up the teapot, and poured herself another cup of tea.
"Would you like some?"
She looked at Russell.
"Have a cup. It's already been opened."
Russell drank all the water in one go, accepted a cup of black tea from Charlotte, and sat down on the sofa.
"How long is she planning to stay here?"
Charlotte asked.
"Well, what would you think if I said she's staying here starting today?"
"There are only three rooms at 221B Baker Street."
Charlotte said, "There are two rooms on the second floor, and Mrs. Hudson is using one of them."
"I'll sleep on the sofa."
Russell spoke in a flat tone. Charlotte glanced at him.
"It seems your relationship with her has undergone some unexpected changes without my knowledge."
Russell avoided making a direct statement and then picked up his teacup.
"You…" Charlotte hesitated for a moment, then turned her gaze to Russell.
"Is this the final stage?"
Russell choked violently and nearly spat out all the black tea he had just drunk.
Some of the tea went down the wrong pipe, and he coughed violently, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Cough, cough… cough, cough, cough…"
He covered his mouth and awkwardly grabbed a tissue from the table.
Charlotte remained seated, quietly observing Russell's intense reaction, and slowly placed her teacup down.
"What kind of things do you think about all day?"
He looked up at Charlotte.
"Logical reasoning."
Charlotte spoke slowly and carefully.
"This morning when you came back, she was wrapped in your coat, but underneath she was only wearing a wrinkled thin evening dress."
"When a person experiences deep grief or extreme fear, their body instinctively trembles and feels cold. This is a normal stress response."
"Even if you draped a coat over her, she should still have been trembling."
"But in reality, aside from the perfectly timed breakdown she showed in front of Mrs. Hudson, the impression I got when I first saw her on the stairs was strangely bright."
"It wasn't because of the cold, but because of the excited state that remained after the rapid release of dopamine and adrenaline had subsided."
After Charlotte finished speaking, she leaned forward slightly and looked at Russell.
"Even if she really did give herself to you in that atmosphere, it wouldn't be unreasonable. On the contrary, I would only praise her boldness. However, judging from your reaction, it seems that wasn't the case."
"And what happened next probably didn't give you much opportunity to do so."
Russell listened in silence. It felt as though Charlotte had planted a surveillance device on him.
"So… what exactly do you want to ask?"
Russell sighed. "You're not going to say something unnecessary, are you?"
"I'm just confirming."
Charlotte leaned back deeply in her chair and picked up her teacup with an elegant movement.
"My experiment isn't over yet. If someone reaches there first, it would be a great loss."
Hearing this, Russell looked at Charlotte, unable to tell for a moment whether she was joking or serious.
"So, does that mean everything has been confirmed?"
He asked.
"Almost."
Charlotte nodded. "At least it's not in an irreparable state yet."
Hearing this, Russell couldn't help but laugh.
Just then, Mrs. Hudson's voice came from outside the door.
"Charlotte, Russell, are you there?"
"Yes."
Russell answered and stood up to go to the door.
Mrs. Hudson was standing outside the door holding a tray with two steaming cups of ginger tea.
"Mary just woke up and didn't look well, so I made her some ginger tea."
As she spoke, she handed the tray to Russell.
"You two should eat something and warm up as well."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."
Russell accepted the tray and thanked her with a smile.
"I don't do formalities."
"That's better."
Mrs. Hudson smiled and said, "That child has been through a lot these past few days. Spend more time with her and comfort her."
"Understood."
Russell nodded to reassure her, then Mrs. Hudson left.
Russell returned to Charlotte's side with the ginger tea, placed one of the cups down, and took the teacup from her hand.
"Here, have this."
He said.
Charlotte had no choice but to watch as her black tea was cleared away. She looked at the steaming ginger tea in front of her, picked it up, and gently blew on it.
"So, what's the next step?"
She asked after taking a sip of the ginger tea.
"What do you mean? What should we do?"
Russell asked.
"Her."
Charlotte tapped the floor with her foot. "She can sleep in my room."
"What about you?"
"I sleep in your room."
"Then what about me?"
"You can sleep on the sofa or sleep with me. Either is fine."
"She might not like that, so it might be better to push her into Mrs. Hudson's room."
"Have you asked Mrs. Hudson for her opinion?"
Charlotte glanced at him.
Russell shrugged and leaned back deeply in his chair, taking a sip of ginger tea.
After a while, Charlotte spoke again, saying something that surprised Russell.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to the North Mountain Highland Sanatorium."
Hearing this, Russell raised one eyebrow.
"Is Charles Brown okay?"
"Mm."
Charlotte nodded. "Dr. Vanessa told me."
"Of course, tomorrow is Saturday, and I don't have any particular plans."
Russell gave a slight nod, and from his tone, it seemed he was preparing to go with Charlotte.
"No, I'm going alone this time."
Charlotte said.
"Mm?"
Russell furrowed his brows. "You're going alone?"
"I'm worried about leaving her alone at home."
Charlotte said, "I'm very angry, but you stay at Baker Street and don't take your eyes off her."
"You're overthinking it. What can Mary even do…" Russell smiled, but Charlotte's attitude was unusually serious.
"Russell, I'm serious. I can go by myself."
Seeing Charlotte's unwavering gaze, Russell's smile gradually faded.
He looked at Charlotte's face for a few seconds, then finally looked away and nodded.
"Alright."
He relented and said, "Then be careful."
"Yes, I will."
Charlotte picked up the ginger tea. The teacup hid the emotions in her eyes.
The two of them tacitly avoided delving deeper into the topic. They already knew the truth in their hearts, but there had been no opportunity to make it public.
Because once certain things were revealed, there was no going back to the beginning.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The sound of knocking came again, and this time Mary's voice came from outside.
"Russell, are you in there?"
The girl's voice rang out from the doorway.
"Open the door, Mary."
When Russell answered, the door opened.
Mary was wearing a flannel nightgown. It was the one Charlotte had lent her the last time she came to Baker Street to take shelter from the rain.
The girl's long silver hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She was carrying a suitcase, but seemed to be struggling to carry it.
Seeing this, Russell quickly stepped forward, took the box from her, and placed it in the living room.
"What's this?"
He asked.
"This is the luggage Mel sent. It has toiletries and clothes."
Mary said quietly.
"Besides that, there was also a check. Mrs. Hudson said she absolutely wouldn't accept it, but I couldn't persuade her."
She paused for a moment, then smiled lightly at Russell and Charlotte.
"I'm sorry for troubling you at this hour."
"Don't worry about it."
Russell smiled. "You can stay as long as you like."
"Really?"
Mary raised one eyebrow. "Then can I stay here from now on?"
"But, but…"
"It would be easier to just buy 221B Baker Street."
Charlotte interjected.
"Anyway, now that you're managing the Morstan family's finances, a small house like Baker Street shouldn't be a big deal, right?"
"Charlotte…" Russell looked at her helplessly.
Mary only smiled lightly and sat down next to Russell as though nothing had happened.
"If Mrs. Hudson really wants to sell, I'll consider it."
She said.
"After buying it, I'll transfer it to Russell. That way he can become the owner of this place."
"As expected of the Morstan family's daughter, she expresses her opinions very boldly."
Charlotte raised one eyebrow.
"It was just a joke. There's no need to be afraid of saying anything, right?"
Mary smiled. "Is it possible that Mrs. Hudson would sell a house like this?"
The smell of gunpowder suddenly grew stronger in the air, almost completely overpowering the scent of ginger tea.
"It seems that what someone removed wasn't just the contact lenses."
Charlotte said.
"They removed all the masks they were wearing on their faces."
"Wearing contact lenses for long periods of time can have adverse effects on the eyes and may affect vision."
Mary smiled. "As time passes, fewer and fewer people will be able to see things clearly."
As she spoke, she took Russell's arm.
"Wearing a mask for too long might make it become part of your face, so it's not bad to take it off, right?"
"I agree with that opinion as well."
Charlotte still avoided making a direct statement.
"It's easy to take off the suit you're wearing on your body, but it's not so easy to take off the suit you're wearing in your heart."
"Let's change the subject, shall we?"
Russell sensed something unusual in the conversation and quickly spoke up.
"For example, I was thinking of going to get something to eat. What about you two?"
"No objections."
Charlotte said.
"Perfect timing. I was just feeling a little hungry too."
Mary smiled.
"Then I'll go cook."
Russell finally stood up, finding an opportunity to escape from this hellish situation.
The other two tacitly made no move to stop him and watched Russell leave before looking away.
"Is La Dame aux Camélias a good show?"
Charlotte asked.
"Well… it's alright."
Mary answered, then picked up Russell's half-drunk cup of ginger tea and took a sip.
"But I didn't pay much attention to the story development in the second half."
"What were you watching?"
"I wasn't watching anything."
Mary said, "I closed my eyes and kissed him in the box seat."
Hearing this, Charlotte paused for a moment. She had expected it, but the moment she actually heard the news, her eyes clouded over for an instant.
"Having the nerve to do something like that in a second-floor box seat at the Royal Opera House."
She said.
"It's like a crude imitation."
"But why do I feel that the phrase 'the disciple surpasses the master' is appropriate?"
Mary said with a smile.
Charlotte was not angered by this provocative statement, which was almost like a declaration of war.
She leaned back deeply in the armchair, crossed her legs elegantly, and quietly stared at the girl in front of her with her gray-blue eyes, who had almost completely dropped her disguise.
"A meticulously planned tragedy, perfectly timed acting, and a pitiful background... Using someone's overflowing sympathy to rob them of their rationality is something I've never done before."
She said she wasn't sure for a moment whether she was talking about La Dame aux Camélias or another work.
"Mr. Lestrade said it was just an unfortunate accident."
"It was an accident, and it's truly a shame."
Charlotte still avoided making a direct statement.
"Wouldn't it have been better if he had died in the fire?"
"Charlotte, my father is still in the intensive care unit."
Mary looked as though she had been treated unfairly.
"Yes, it's truly a shame. Why the intensive care unit? It would have been much better if it had been the morgue."
Charlotte placed her teacup down.
"It's not polite to speak ill of someone else's father in front of their daughter."
"I just said it, but there are people who really want him dead."
"It's true that Father has many rivals in business."
Mary gave a slight nod.
"This isn't just a business issue. Now that he's hospitalized, there are quite a few relatives who will try to take advantage of this situation. Those kinds of people will do anything for money."
"Yes."
Charlotte moved her foot and stared at Mary's flawless features.
"If that's the case for blood-related relatives, then what about non-blood-related relatives?"
The sizzling sound of eggs frying and the smell of butter drifted in from the kitchen. It was like an ordinary daily activity trying to cover up this abnormal afternoon.
"Non-blood-related relatives."
Mary repeated the words with a smile that never left her face. "Is Charlotte worried about my family?"
"I have no interest whatsoever in the Morstan family's affairs."
Charlotte picked up the ginger tea and took a sip.
"How does a poor girl who just experienced a family tragedy still have the energy to argue with me? Her mental strength is truly remarkable."
"Thank you."
Mary blinked. "Because it would be incredibly rude to remain immersed in grief when Charlotte Holmes is nearby, wouldn't it?"
The two stared at each other, as though invisible sparks were crackling in the air.
"Charlotte seems quite worried about my father's business, doesn't she?"
Mary spoke again. "Can we consider this an occupational hazard?"
"We can't."
Charlotte said, "I have no interest in this. Besides, Lestrade didn't come to me for help."
"Since Scotland Yard has closed the case, let's just treat it as an accident."
Hearing this, Mary paused for a moment, then quietly said, "Thank you."
The gratitude was so sincere that Charlotte was momentarily at a loss for words.
"I didn't solve the case to help the police. I did it purely out of my own interest."
"If I have to hear the same joke twice, it stops being funny."
Mary shook her head helplessly.
"If you pretend to be stupid twice when faced with the same fact, you'll only look truly foolish."
Charlotte spoke in a calm tone.
The air, which had finally begun to ease, became suffocatingly heavy once again. The air froze, and even with the windows closed, it felt as though snow was blowing in, and the temperature dropped sharply.
The two women's gazes crossed in the air, like two quiet swords probing and clashing, but neither drew completely from its sheath.
"Cough, cough..."
Just then, an out-of-place cough came from the direction of the kitchen, accompanied by the rich aroma of toasted bread.
Russell appeared at the doorway wearing Mrs. Hudson's apron around his waist and holding two plates piled high with food.
"Um… did I miss something in the discussion?"