Sherlock ][ Believer Here

"She’s been there three nights, Holmes," Watson replied, standing by the heavy velvet curtains. "She looks like she’s trying to tell you something."

"Identity?" Holmes whispered, his hand hovering over his magnifying glass. Sherlock ][ Believer

The woman was no longer outside. She stood in the center of the room, translucent and shimmering like oil on water. She didn't scream or point to a wound. She simply held out a hand, and in her palm sat a sapphire that didn't exist—a stone so blue it seemed to swallow the light of the room. "She’s been there three nights, Holmes," Watson replied,

"It is a trick of the light, Watson," Holmes remarked, his back to the window. He was furiously scrubbing a test tube. "A combination of coal smoke, a slight imperfection in the Victorian glass, and the overactive imagination of a public desperate for the divine." She stood in the center of the room,