"Would you mind not texting while we're in the middle of a conversation?"

"Charles worries for me. I have to keep him informed."

"I'm sure your meal-ticket can wait while we discuss why someone burned me and then tried to blow me up. That was a new car, Hannah!"

"I go by Anthea now. New city, new name."

"Fine. Anthea. Look, it took me a month just to get anyone to talk to me, because on paper, I don't exist. To any government agency, Mycroft Holmes has been erased from history."

"And I came back alive, only to get a meaningless piece of metal pinned to my chest before being shoved out the door. We all get burned in the end."

"Yes, you're having such a hard time of it being spoon-fed by wealthy bachelors."

"Safer than arms dealing, but much more effort than you'd think. Anyway, this isn't really how I imagined my life going."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"If you want to find your bomber, start with the bomb. I know someone in town; he's good at that sort of thing. You know him too. Quite well."

"You don't mean…"

"Greg's got himself a little piece of the market here, and he takes side jobs."

"I am not working with Greg Lestrade. He's also on the list of people who've tried to blow me up."

"Greg tries to blow up everyone at some point. He used twice his usual amount of C-4 on a very well-crafted bomb for you. It's his version of a love letter."

"Alright, I'll take the number, but that doesn't guarantee I'll call."

"Right here."

"What's that second one?"

"Your brother's. He's curious as to why you're in town. I figure it's fair, since he has yours."

"You gave Sherlock my number? Why would you do that? He'll be the death of me!"

"Because otherwise you'll be the death of yourself. Besides, I think you might be needing a place to stay. This article says there was an explosion about an hour ago. That's your street, isn't it?"

"…can I borrow your phone?"