He makes sure he's ready by seven thirty that morning, thinking mostly of the case — of talking to Arthur that day. But John just had to invite Lily to breakfast, right in the middle of a case, and she isn't even bringing anything herself. Instead, John is making eggs and sausage, and he's tasked Sherlock with making the toast and the tea.

"Do I have to eat any of this?" Sherlock asks, groaning.

John rolls his eyes. "You should, but I guess not."

When the breakfast is finished, they move the armchairs in the sitting room and put out the table and chairs, then John sets the table while Sherlock starts playing with Rosie to get out of it. Rosie doesn't seem to be fazed by waking up so early, though she's impatient to eat breakfast.

Lily arrives at eight on the dot, and Sherlock answers the door. He's delighted to find that she's made sweet scones and brought some strawberry jam to go with them. "Good morning," she says, smiling far too brightly for so early in the morning, but it doesn't surprise Sherlock.

"Good morning," he says, stepping aside to let her in. Rosie is already standing behind him, running to Lily as soon as she can get past Sherlock. Lily laughs, but can't hug Rosie, as her hands are full.

She sees the table in the middle of the room and turns to Sherlock as he closes the door. "Where do you want me to put these?"

Sherlock shrugs, then gestures to the table. "There, I'd assume. John's the one doing most of this."

John is in the kitchen, and he turns then and sees what Lily's brought (Rosie is trying to see it, too, holding onto the tabletop to get a look). "Did you make those?"

Lily shrugs a bit sheepishly. "The scones, yes. The jam is store-bought. My strawberries in the garden won't grow for at least another year..."

John, carrying the eggs into the room, sighs. "I told you not to bring anything."

"I didn't want to come empty handed," Lily replies. "Besides, I haven't made sweet scones in a while. I wanted to."

"I suppose we'll just have to eat them, John," Sherlock says, acting as if it's such a difficult task to be faced with. Lily laughs, and Sherlock smiles.

John sets everything out on the table, but Sherlock takes care of the tea, then puts the cream and sugar on the table. He pushes the sugar towards Lily.

"Use as much as you'd like," he says, with a small laugh.

Lily chuckles, too. "Thank you. But I'll try not to use all of it."

They laugh and talk about mundane things through the beginning of breakfast. Lily, after putting jam on Rosie's scone for her (Rosie insisted on sitting near Lily), mentions that her parents and brother want to come visit, and her friends are talking about it, too.

"I'll be sure that they keep it down while they're here, though," she says, looking pointedly at Sherlock as she does so. He's surprised to find himself blushing lightly and looks down at his half-eaten food, despite knowing she isn't being accusatory and she's not angry about it. Sherlock isn't sure if the woman has an angry bone in her body.

"As far as I'm concerned, you could have a party if you'd like," John replies.

Lily laughs. "I think I'd have to ask Mrs. Hudson first. And, anyway, I don't think I'd consider myself a party sort of girl."

Sherlock immediately recalls a fairy story he reads to Rosie every so often. "I thought fairies had lots of parties."

Lily smiles sweetly, the corner of her mouth amused. She goes to reply, but Rosie beats her to it. "They do! They have parties in forests with dancing and music and fairy food."

"What's fairy food?" Lily asks. Rosie thinks, then holds up her second, half-eaten scone. Lily laughs again, along with John and Sherlock.

Soon after, once they've finished breakfast, they drop Rosie and some leftover scones and jam at Mrs. Hudson's, then call and acquire the address of the hotel where Arthur is staying (he was released from holding by then, but he made his whereabouts known, making himself less suspicious). Finally, they get in a cab to go talk to Arthur.

Sherlock goes through the questions he wants to ask in his mind, guessing at possible answers. Some version of events has formed in his brain: someone found out about the coronet and tried taking it and/or broke it themselves outside, then Arthur caught them and took the coronet back to where it belonged and tried to fix it. His father saw him and made his assumptions, but Arthur is trying to protect whoever took it. That could be: his sister, Hayley, possibly one of the maids, or his shady friend Robert. Only the maids or Robert could feasibly have any motive, based on what he's seen and heard from the other two. Lily probably has an idea of that; she seems to be good at figuring out motives. She understands people, even if she's prone to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Still, he doesn't ask her. She'll likely offer up her ideas later, at just the right moments. She's good at that, too.

On the way to Arthur's hotel, Sherlock gets a text from Mycroft. He rolls his eyes before reading it.

'I've just been informed by Mr. Holder that Hayley has left the house this morning, and she left a note.'

This is followed by a picture of a handwritten note, which Sherlock squints to read.

'I thank all of you for what you've done for me. Taking me in as you have is something that I know I can never repay. And for that I have to leave. Please don't look for me. Thank you again. - Hayley'

Sherlock puts his phone back in his pocket and smiles.

They make it to where Arthur is soon after and head inside and request to speak with him. Whoever is there doesn't ask questions; Mycroft must've made it known Sherlock is working this case.

The three of them knock on Arthur's door after being let through by the hotel staff; Mycroft had sent them instructions, apparently. Arthur doesn't look happy to see them. "Can I help you?" he asks dryly.

"I think you know the answer to that," Sherlock replies.

"Look, I've told multiple people multiple times about the coronet. I'm done answering the same questions over and over again."

"But you don't," John butts in. "You don't answer the questions."

"I'm here for your real story, Arthur," Sherlock says.

Arthur is quiet for a moment, then he sighs. "Let's move to the lounge downstairs, then."

They all walk downstairs, then settle into some chairs in an open but empty room off the lobby. John sits next to Sherlock, who's across from Arthur, and Lily is on Sherlock's other side. Sherlock starts. "So, let's begin. You say that you're innocent, and yet you provide no guilty party, no explanation as why you were found holding the coronet. Why is that?"

"Because I don't..." Arthur starts. "I don't know."

"Fine, then. Hayley. Tell me about her."

Arthur pauses. "Hayley? What does Hayley have to do with this?"

Lily speaks up, and Sherlock starts to smile; even without the clue he has, she's caught on. "Your dad said you two are close."

Arthur shrugs, looks at the floor. "We are."

"How so?" she asks gently, but Arthur becomes angry.

"What does this have to do with the coronet?"

"I'll tell you," Sherlock replies calmly. "Or at least I'll tell you what I think.

"I think you woke up that night — possibly to some noise, or maybe you never went to bed — and you saw Hayley take the coronet. You followed her outside, where there was a struggle and the coronet broke, and the missing piece-" Sherlock pulls it out of his pocket just enough for Arthur to see "- fell into the bushes. But of course you didn't hurt Hayley in the process; you love her. Still, you got the coronet back, and you brought it back inside, and that's where your father found you. You won't admit your guilt, as you had nothing to do with the crime, but you won't provide the guilty party to protect Hayley. Am I wrong?"

"Hayley didn't-" Arthur starts.

"Then why did she leave your house this morning?" Sherlock cuts in. He can tell John and Lily are looking at him with a bit of confusion, but he'll explain.

Arthur sits up. "What do you mean?"

"She left. Left a note, too." He takes out his phone, pulls up the picture, then passes it to Arthur, who reads it, then begins to cry.

"She didn't take it. She didn't- It's not her fault. It's my fault. Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"She can't go back to her parents' house," Arthur says, adamant. "She can't..."

Lily leans forward, enough to lay a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. "We'll find her, okay? But you need to tell us what happened so we can clear this all up. Why do you think this is your fault?"

Arthur hesitates, then looks up at Lily, at her comforting, genuine expression. Sherlock isn't surprised when Arthur starts confessing. "Because I'm the one who brought Robert into our lives."

"Robert," Lily says, sitting back now. She doesn't sound surprised, and Sherlock isn't either; he just didn't know how Robert fit into the equation before.

"He's-"

"We know who he is," Sherlock cuts in, though not impatiently or angrily.

Arthur nods, then slowly continues. "I met him gambling. He just... He seemed like he knew everything, you know? He needed a place to crash once, I invited him home. And then he ended up there a bit frequently, and nobody seemed to mind him — at least until he was gone. I knew he wasn't a good guy; every time I tried to quit, he'd pull me right back in. Part of that's on me, allowing him, but...

"Anyway, as much as he was at our house, I never guessed that he and Hayley... were together. My dad didn't really like him, and neither did Addie, so I guess they just never told anyone. Not even me. I only found out the night the coronet got broken.

"I never went to sleep. I have debt like you wouldn't believe, and I was trying to figure out how to pay it back. I heard footsteps in the hall, and I figured it was Hayley getting up to go to the bathroom, and I just wanted someone to talk to, so I got up and went to the door, but I watched her walk past the bathroom and go all the way down the hall, towards my dad's office. I didn't know what to think, and I finally came to my senses enough to hide when she walked out of the room. I saw the coronet in her hands, and I followed her downstairs, all the way to the window in the back of the house, the part where the maids usually are, and I saw her give it to someone standing in the backyard on the other side of the window. I hid until she was gone; I couldn't shout, wake the house. She'd be incriminated. I couldn't let that happen to her.

"Instead, I hid until she went back upstairs, and then I ran outside and confronted whoever it was. It's only then that I saw it was Robert. We fought over the coronet. I guess it broke then, but I just ran back inside the moment it was in my hands. When I got to the safe, I realized it was bent, and I did my best to fix it, but then Dad came in, and... well, you know the rest. Now, can you please go and find Hayley?"

"We'll do our best," Sherlock says.

Arthur sighs. "Does my family know about this?"

"Not yet, no."

"I'd like to be the one to tell them."

"We'll take you there now."

,,,O,,,          ,,,O,,,          ,,,O,,,
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Sherlock feels a quiet, rumbling anger when he walks into Mr. Holder's house, sees the man's worried face. It's lessened, though, when the man asks about Hayley before the coronet. "Were you told?" he says. "Hayley — she's gone-"

"We know. We're going to look for her," Sherlock reassures.

"I think there's a conversation you need to have first," Lily adds. Mr. Holder looks past her and sees Arthur walking in slowly. Adeline, who's standing behind her father and looks as if she's been crying, runs to her brother and hugs him. Arthur hugs her back with a small smile.

"Are you prepared to tell us where the missing piece is, then?" Mr. Holder asks, and Sherlock's anger rises again. Lily must've noticed; she puts a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him from saying anything. Sherlock looks down at her, and she shakes her head a little. Arthur's the one who needs to speak.

"No," Arthur says. "I'm here to tell you what really happened." And so Arthur describes the entire story to them, obviously shocking them. He finishes with, "I didn't know where the missing piece was until about half an hour ago."

"Where is it?" Mr. Holder asks. This time, Sherlock responds, taking the piece of his pocket and holding it out. Mr. Holder takes it almost immediately.

"I found it in the hedges," Sherlock says.

"You've saved us all," Mr. Holder replies, obviously grateful, but Sherlock doesn't want his gratitude.

Adeline has a more appropriate response. "Arthur, I'm so sorry. I didn't even question it, when you were accused. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Arthur replies, hugging her again. "I brought Robert into our lives; I'm partially responsible. And I guess it did look suspicious when I was standing outside the safe with the coronet literally in my hands..."

"It did," Mr. Holder says, and Sherlock wants to say something again, but this time he's stopped by Mr. Holder continuing. "But that shouldn't've mattered. When you said you were innocent, I shouldn't've questioned that. You're my son, no matter what company you're keeping or what habits you haven't been able to break. I know you, and I should've trusted you. And whatever I can do to make it up to you, I'll do."

Arthur's response is instant. "Don't press charges against Hayley. Don't kick her out. It's Robert's fault and mine. She has no where else to go-"

"I wouldn't dream of kicking her out," Mr. Holder replies. "Once she's found, she'll be right back here, where she belongs."

"Please tell me she didn't go back to her parents' house..." Adeline mumbles.

"I'll make sure officers have already been there," Sherlock says. "And I have contacts who can look for her on the streets. Is there anywhere else she might've gone?"

"Robert...?" Arthur starts. "I don't know..."

"Do you know where he lives?"

Arthur thinks for far too long. "No... No, I... I don't even know his last name, now that I think about it."

Sherlock sighs. "We'll do what we can."

On the way back to 221B, he calls Lestrade, who informs him that Hayley isn't at her parents'. So, as soon as he's able, Sherlock contacts Wiggins, gets him a picture of Hayley, and then tries searching for Robert in various places online. Lestrade has officers also looking, and he turns up nothing.

But Sherlock doesn't turn up anything either.