The Glass Rose

Chapter Fifteen

Tears ran down Adelaide's rosy cheeks as she looked up to Sherlock. His heart broke at the sight and pulled her into his arms. He didn't know what to say...if there even was anything to say. It was as if she was losing her family all over again and all Sherlock could do was sit and watch.

"I need to know what happened to him." She pulled herself from his embrace and began to pace the room, running a hand through her blonde hair. "I need to know what happened to him now."

"Addie, it's not even morning yet," Sherlock said in a soothing tone but it was no use.

"He thinks I'm dead, Sherlock!" She stopped pacing and he watched as her heart broke. "He thought that I died." Sobs escaped her mouth as she leaned on the footboard for support. "I will never know peace until I find out what happened to him." Sherlock stood and wrapped his arms around her, helping to steady her.

"Alright. Then we'll find him. Just tell me what you want me to do."

"Can you go to the university? Find whatever you can and then meet me at the dock that's close to here? I feel like there might be a clue there. I need to write to my parents. They kept my brother from me."

"Of course. Will you be alright on your own?" He asked, pulling a jacket over his clothes from the day before. He had dozed off on the couch for a few minutes before he woke to Adelaide's sobs and never got the chance to change.

"Yes, I'll be fine. I'll meet you at the dock at-" She looked at the small clock on the bedside table. "At five. This will give you an hour to find what you can and me an hour to get ready and write to my parents." Sherlock nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Alright. Please be safe." She hummed in agreement but he persisted. "Adelaide, promise me you will stay safe," He said, his blue eyes filled with worry.

"Yes, yes, I promise." Without another word, he was off towards the university and she was grabbing a piece of paper and a quill. She wrote them a short letter, demanding all of the information they kept from her about her brother. Once she was done writing, she sealed the letter, quickly got dressed, and then dropped it off at the post office. The man looked at her skeptically for being there so early but took the letter nonetheless. She walked to the dock, knowing she was ridiculously early. She wrapped her arms around herself as the cool early spring air nipped at her skin.

At the dock, a calmness washed over her. She could feel her brother there with her for the first time in years. She stared into the dark water and noticed something shine from the bottom. It was highly improbable for that to be the necklace. It would have been down there for years now, what were the chances she'd be able to see it? But hope gnawed at her. She had to know if it was the locket. She knew it was just a piece of jewelry and yet it felt like her only lifeline. So she glanced around her and began to undress when she discovered no one was around.

Once she was just in her undergarments, she dove into the cold water before she could ponder the stupidity of her plan. Was she diving in quite literally headfirst into a river in the hope of finding a necklace thrown there years ago? Yes. But that's why hope was the greatest evil to escape from Pandora's box. It caused more pain than any of the others because at least they never pretended to be something they weren't.

The silt at the bottom began to stir as she searched desperately for where she saw the shine of silver from above. As she searched, she realized how stupid this plan was, but she continued looking. Her lungs burned and her skin stung from the cold but she carried on. She needed to find the necklace. Hysteria began to set over her as she became more and more frantic in an attempt to find the object before she ran out of air. She couldn't go up empty-handed. Spots began to dance in her vision as her lungs ached for air. This was all she had left of her family. She needed it. But her lungs needed air more. Luckily for her, right as her body forced her to take a breath, she felt something with the side of her hand. She grabbed it and fought to the surface with what little energy she had left. She couldn't see or hear but two things remained constant; the terrible burning of her lungs and the object clenched desperately in her hand.