It’s taken years, but Portia Adams has found an outlet for her obsessive curiosity as the consulting detective of 221 Baker Street, like her grandfathers before her. Scotland Yard taps her for their trickiest crimes, she’s in her last year of law school and finally things are heating up between Portia and her downstairs tenant, Constable Brian Dawes. But a bomb planted at a crime scene destroys everything she has fought so hard to establish. She wakes up to a world she can’t communicate with, the sounds around her dulled and unintelligible and the words that come out of her mouth are garbled and incomprehensible. Brian was hurt in other ways, the burns on his hands and arms causing pain that makes him turn to the opium dens Holmes himself was known to frequent. The bomber continues to wreak havoc all over London but no one will work with Portia — everyone from her allies at the Yard to the public itself dismisses the young detective as damaged goods. To make matters worse, a rabid spymaster at MI6 believes she’s involved in the bombings and Portia finds herself on the run having to relearn her skills in a deafeningly silent world with a spy she can’t trust.