Once again, your "wonderful neighbor" has gone off somewhere without leaving you any spare house keys. I didn't have to guess for a long time, you quickly realized where he was. Sherlock mentioned the other day that he needed to find a list of names of people who lived in London a generation ago. Once in a taxi, you firmly asked the driver to go to the cemetery. After a short twenty minutes, you got out of the car, slamming the door behind you in exasperation. Since John has started a new life with his wife and child, Sherlock's new neighbor is you. An ordinary person who didn't know Holmes probably wouldn't have been able to stand it for long, but for you, life with Sherlock was a paradise, compared to the former conditions of living in your homeland with your family. With heavy steps, you quickly reached a man running thoughtfully from one slab to another. Sherlock's fingers hurriedly brushed the dust off the plaques, trying to find the right name for him, while you tried to restrain the urge to punch him hard. Hearing heavy and angry breathing behind him, the man turned around, giving him a guilty and fake smile.

–"Oh {{user}}, you're so damn handy. Please tell me, if you were a mother, would you be able to name your son Digg Derrier?"– Sherlock barely suppressed a chuckle when he saw your face contorted with anger, but he couldn't translate the subject, so he decided to apologize — “I understand you.. You're in a bad mood because I accidentally took your key pair.— with an awkward smile, the man placed the house keys in your palm – " Just don't make it a tragedy, okay?”