It had all started with a text message from a hidden number as the clock struck midnight on Christmas Eve.
Merry Christmas, Molls.
It sent a shiver up her spine and her skin crawl, a sickness settling in the pit of her belly. Only he had called her Molls. But he was dead. Gone. Buried. He was a lie. Something made up just so he could get closer to Sherlock.
Nothing but a lie.
The texts kept coming, sent every time from a hidden number. Always when she was alone. Always when she was feeling at her most vunerable.
You looked beautiful today, Molls.
She had been wearing the dress he had bought her and the necklace with the beautiful jewels that he said brought out her eyes. The gifts that Molly could not bring herself to throw away. She should have known back then something was wrong there was no way he could have afforded all those luxurious gifts on his wage.
Who was that man you were talking to? Are you trying to make me jealous?
Molly soon stopped talking to men in bars, and eventually stopped going out for drinks with her friends altogether. She didn’t want to risk anyone getting hurt because of her. She had already had more than her fill of that.
Why did you change your number, Molls? Do you not like my love notes?
Molly had changed her number. Changed her phone. But still the text messages kept coming. She hadn’t told anyone, there was no one she felt she could tell. Once upon a time she would have told Sherlock, or John. But she couldn’t do that now. She didn’t trust anyone else.
I miss you, Molls. Do you miss me?
Molly shivered as she read the most recent message, and it had nothing to do with the brisk British winter. The pathologist wrapped her coat tightly around herself and walked a little faster. She had not meant to stay at work so late, she always made sure she never walked home in the dark. But now it was ten minutes past nine on a Wednesday night and London was dark and uncharacteristically quiet.
Suddenly, an arm snaked around her waist and a leather clad glove clamped over her mouth. A mocking kiss was placed just under her ear and an all too familiar voice murmered in her ear.
“Well, Molls? Do you?”