It had been Eleven months. Joan was still not fully recovered from Sherlock's Death. She had since been deluding her hope in the instance that he might be alive. She knew he wasn't a fake but now she wasn't sure if he was alive. The doctor hoped he was. She had loved him, she never admitted it to him because the word was't something he was accustomed to.
It was a tuesday. She was relaxing in her arm chair when she heard a knock at the door. She walked towards the doorway half expecting it to be Mrs. Hudson.