"Hiding in plain sight can be the best way to hide."

Three ice cubes clinked into each glass, and Irene shook her head while crossing the room to push the hair from her eyes. A stray curl still twisted into her peripheral vision, but it wasn't worth setting down the glasses early for. Her attention wasn't much on her hair as it was. She was too busy silently puzzling out how Sherlock could have managed to falsify his own death in such a completely thorough manner - and at the same time knowing that no one else could have managed such a deception.

She didn't think he would have told her if she asked anyway.

Irene stopped a few inches in front of him, offering the second glass. Her lips were curved into a faint smile.