◇Prologue◇

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   The towering sun was saying goodbye again, slowly disappearing behind the horizon line. From the other end, the magnificent moon was rising in the starry sky, illuminating the whole world.

   Elizabeth looked out the window of her room in the Chatham mansion. The house itself, as well as all the riches around it, were obtained with the help of the political position and business of Michael Chatham, Elizabeth's father. Despite the material goods and money they offered, the Chathams did not know how to behave with their children.

   The eldest son, Derek, was a young man full of ideals. He had his own way of thinking, one that was out of the ordinary for the times in which he lived. He wanted change even more than any assertion against the label of future baron.

   The youngest of the family, Elizabeth had a colorful personality, being eternally immersed in her passion for music and in her deep vision of the whole world. Like her brother, she had her own ideas, perspectives and views of life.

   Contrary to the uniqueness and revolutionary spirit of their children, the Chathams, Michael and Miriam, were always guided by the old principles of society. With an arranged marriage and the experience of past generations, the only thing they were planning to do was marry off their daughter to a man of noble status and have children as soon as possible.

   Elizabeth did not agree with all these outdated and absurd principles by which her parents were guided, thus appearing contradictions and arguments more and more often. From an early age, the girl understood that life in her family would be an ordeal. As a child, she preferred to escape, to get out of that huge prison full of bitterness.

   So Elizabeth ended up roaming around the neighbors, meeting the Holmes family, who lived two houses away from the Chatham mansion. At first glance, it looked like a happy family: Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, along with their two sons, Mycroft and Sherlock, lived in harmony.

   Elizabeth quickly became friends with the two boys, being of similar ages. Mycroft was three years older than the girl, while Sherlock was only eleven months older. From the beginning, Elizabeth's parents did not approve of her new friendship. They even forbade her to go to the Holmes house, but, despite her parents' wishes, she always sneaked away without being discovered.

   The girl had many hidden talents, in addition to music or writing, she was very good at identifying a person. By posture, signs, features, and even hairstyle, she could conceive a moral portrait of the man in front of her. Innate in riddles and with a brilliant brain, she pursued the small mysteries of Frendell Hall alongside Sherlock, who was blessed with unprecedented gifts, solving every mystery with calculation and precision.

   The eldest Holmes brother was not blessed with any special gifts, and this only furthered the astonishing closeness between Sherlock and Elizabeth. They spent most of their time together, solving puzzles and intrigues.

   Sherlock was just over 10 years old when he found out that his mother was expecting another child. He went through many conflicting feelings, and Elizabeth was always by his side. "My brother and I are seven and a half years apart and we get along great," the girl told her friend. "I can tell he adores me. Well, I would if I had such a wonderful sister how he is," she continued, making Sherlock laugh. His sister was born, and his mother named her Enola.

   "I think I'm starting to like that little nuisance," Sherlock told Elizabeth when his sister was already four.

   They were different now, the boy was almost fifteen years old, his brown curls fell over his forehead and his quick eyes caught every movement. His body had begun to develop, becoming more voluminous. Young Elizabeth was just over fourteen years old, her long brown hair reached below her elbows and green eyes lighted up her face. Her chest had grown and she had become much more interested in her appearance. With the help of the lovely young lady, young Sherlock had recovered from the death of his father, which had not been far from Enola's birth.

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