Stop trying to control me, Miss Moriarty!

The next morning.

Perhaps due to last night's fire, rain has returned to London.

The light drizzle washed away the persistent haze on the streets, revealing a rare clarity to the city amidst the misty air.

Charlotte put on her signature trench coat and deerstalker hat, and pulled a long black umbrella from the brass umbrella stand by the door: "Asha, it's time to go."

"Where to?" Asha looked up from the table, still holding a half-eaten piece of bread in her hand.

"St. Bartholomew's Hospital".

This is where the two first met; Asha worked there as a surgeon for a time before opening her own clinic.

"Charlotte, has your injury worsened?"

"No, your treatment was very professional. It's only a matter of time before you recover." Charlotte's voice was calm as her fingertips traced the bandage on her left arm. "We need to complete the final part of the commission."

She pointed to the horse-drawn carriages waiting downstairs: "We'll discuss the details on the way."

Asha put down her bread and looked at her best friend's profile with a puzzled expression.

Whenever a case is about to be solved, a fleeting, almost imperceptible excitement always appears in Charlotte's eyes, like finding the last piece of a puzzle.

But for some reason, she didn't have that feeling at all this time.

"Charlotte, are you really alright?" Asha couldn't help but ask again as the wheels rolled over the wet, slippery cobblestones.

"Don't worry, Asha, it's just a minor injury. I'm recovering..."

"I mean the spiritual aspect."

"...I'm fine," Charlotte replied quickly, turning her gaze to the rain flowing outside the window.

Even so, Asha still felt a strong sense of unease.

Charlotte before him seemed completely unfamiliar. She was neither the overconfident, spirited genius nor the decadent, gloomy eccentric.

If I had to describe it

—Like a restless teenage girl just entering puberty, troubled by her emotions.

Charlotte closed her eyes, and the sound of fine raindrops pattering outside filled the carriage.

She sighed softly: "First of all, you should have seen the scene where Adler rushed into the fire and rescued me and the maid..."

"Yes." Asha's tone still held disbelief. "I still can't believe that scum would do such a thing."

"Of course, I also find it strange that the infamous Adler would do such a thing... Asha, prejudice is a shortcut to obscuring the truth, perhaps we..."

She paused for a moment, then said, "Sorry, that's not the point. Let's get back to the main topic."

Asha's doubts deepened. The Charlotte of the past would never have brought up irrelevant topics when stating the core reasoning.

Charlotte continued, "I had speculated that Adler had hidden the photos somewhere in the mansion, but that's clearly not the case anymore; he went into the fire multiple times without looking for them."

"With less than 48 hours left before the engagement was announced, it was impossible for Adler to still have the photos in the bank or with his lawyer. In conclusion, it's quite obvious that he had been carrying the photos with him the whole time."

"Carry it on your person? That's way too dangerous..."

"Adler is an extremely arrogant person and is very likely to do something like this. Only if he has his most precious possessions with him will he have the confidence to rush into the fire to save others."

But like a child facing an insurmountable problem, Charlotte added, biting her right thumb:

"Even so, it still doesn't explain why he saved me... Anyway, he is currently hospitalized at St. Bartholomew's Hospital with burns and fractures, in room 305."

"You know, to relieve the pain, doctors will prescribe morphine and sleeping pills for these kinds of patients. It's 7:13 now, he's definitely still not awake, if we go over there we'll probably... get the photos."

Asha had lost count of how many times she had been confused today; she could actually see a lack of confidence on Charlotte Holmes's face!

An outrageous guess suddenly popped into her mind.

"Ladies, we've arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. My fare is two pence."

Before they knew it, they had arrived at their destination.

Yasha paid the fare.

As soon as the two stepped off the carriage and opened their umbrellas, a young woman dressed in a well-fitting grey dress and wearing a matching small hat passed by them.

Rainwater soaked the tips of her shoes, but she stopped and gave them a perfectly timed smile.

"Good morning, Miss Holmes, Miss Watson." The voice was clear and pleasant.

Charlotte turned her gaze, her eyes lingering for a moment on the unfamiliar, delicate face, before returning a polite yet slightly distant smile: "Good morning, miss. I'm sorry, I don't seem to know you."

The woman lightly covered her lips with the back of her hand, her smile deepening: "That's normal, because I'm a fan of Miss Watson's books."

She nodded slightly: "Then, I won't bother you any longer. Have a pleasant day."

After saying that, she walked briskly into the increasingly dense rain.

The rainy day in London suddenly turned cold, and a gust of wind mixed with rain blew by, making Charlotte shiver.

"...Red eyes?"

She suddenly sensed something was wrong and quickly turned around to look, but the girl was nowhere to be found.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing..."

After a brief incident, they entered the hospital and arrived at ward 305, where Erin Adler was located.

The door was open.

The hospital bed was empty except for a woman dressed in a simple maid's dress sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands neatly placed on her knees.

Upon seeing them, the maid's eyes lit up slightly as she curiously sized up Charlotte, who was in the lead.

"You must be Miss Charlotte Holmes?"

"Yes, that's me," Charlotte admitted, slightly surprised.

"Lord Adler told me to wait here. He said you would definitely come." As she spoke, the maid took a letter from a hidden pocket in her skirt. "This is for you."

Charlotte took the envelope, stood there stunned, and ran her fingers over the sealing wax seal.

"Charlotte, what's going on...?" Asha asked, puzzled.

Charlotte did not answer.

She slowly opened the envelope, took out the letter, and Watson leaned in to read it together.

To Miss Holmes:

"You did a wonderful job; I was almost fooled by you. Until the explosion, I never doubted that the brave young nun was Charlotte Holmes herself."

"But after that attack, I realized something. Who would have any pity for a notorious villain like me?"

"I've thought a lot about this. Many people have warned me to be wary of you. They say that if the Queen were to hire a detective, it would have to be a London prodigy."

"Even so, I didn't want to believe that the nun had ill intentions. So I sent a maid in disguise to keep watch until you arrived at Baker Street. That way, I can be sure."

"You should know that changing one's appearance is not difficult for magicians like us. I think we just met and said good morning to each other."

"Being targeted by such a brilliant detective as yourself makes me deeply uneasy. Therefore, I have decided to leave London soon to escape this turmoil."

"As for what you are looking for, I have sent it to 221B Baker Street. I have also included a photo of your client, which she may be willing to accept."

"With best regards to you, dear Miss Charlotte Holmes."

Sincerely, Erin Adler

The handwriting on the letter was elegant and fluid, exuding a sense of composure.

Charlotte pursed her lips, her fingers gripping the edge of the letter, tightening slightly. She lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting shadows between the lines.

After reading it repeatedly, she finally folded the letter gently and put it back in the envelope.

He raised his head again, his gaze passing through the hospital room window and landing on the leaden gray, hazy London sky.

"……fraud."

What was done so well? It was clearly discovered from the very beginning.

This was Charlotte Holmes' first undisputed and utter defeat.

That silver-haired figure, in an elegant and absolute manner, left the first indelible mark on her flawless detective career—a mark that would be etched in her memory for a lifetime.