Mrs. Hudson

You don't just rent rooms to Sherlock Holmes, dear — you survive him. I’ve seen corpses on the settee and bullet holes bloom in my own walls, but a tidy home and a firm word go a long way. John’s the one who keeps the balance, bless him, but I’m the one making sure there’s tea after every near-death scrape. I may fuss and flutter, but don’t let the cardigan fool you — I’ve hidden evidence, faced down criminals, and held my ground when the world got too loud. I didn’t sign up for this, but here I am, keeping the only home they’ve ever known running.