The sister... UNDER EDITING

Chapter 5: And the girl who isnt in distress [EDITED]

By the end of the evening, nothing has happened.

Nobody has left the wedding.

Nobody suspicious has appeared.

The dance floor is packed with laughing guests, the music still echoing around the hall.

I drum my fingers impatiently against the table.

Luke and Mitchell are dancing with a group of guests, John has somehow been dragged onto the dance floor by one of the bridesmaids, and Roz disappeared over an hour ago after being called away on another assignment.

That leaves me...

...and Sherlock.

Neither of us looks particularly impressed.

"Bored?" I ask, glancing sideways at him.

"Painfully."

I sigh dramatically.

"No one's left the wedding, everyone's exactly where they're supposed to be, and nothing remotely interesting has happened."

He raises an eyebrow.

"So... can we either go home or murder someone?"

A small smirk appears.

"I vote we go home."

"Probably for the best."

He stands.

"I'll fetch John."

I nod and make my way outside to wait.

The cool evening air is a welcome relief after hours inside the crowded reception.

One minute passes.

Then five.

Then ten.

I fold my arms.

"What on earth is taking so long..."

The door finally swings open.

"Oh, about time, Sherlock. What took-"

A metallic click.

A gun.

Before I can react, a hand clamps firmly over my mouth.

I lash out instinctively, elbowing backwards, but another pair of hands grabs my arms.

I try to scream.

Only a muffled sound escapes.

They drag me into the darkness of a nearby alley.

A black van waits with its doors already open.

Someone strikes the back of my head.

Everything goes black.

---

The first thing I notice when I wake is the cold.

The second...

The cell.

Old brick walls.

Rusted iron bars.

Concrete floor.

"...Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Realisation dawns almost instantly.

I'm part of my own case.

Female.

Blue eyes.

Left an Indian wedding early.

Perfect.