Frazer nodded.

“Anything I should know?”

“He’ll update you.”

“Okay.”

The programme allowed discussion between those involved in the cases, but nothing had been said that Jack wouldn’t build up to telling Cora in his own time. It was better that way, to allow trust between the mentor and the client. It was the entire point.

“How was lunch at your parents yesterday?”

“Didn’t want to ask last time you stopped by for a visit?”

Cora chuckled. “I was distracted.”

“Clearly.” Frazer wasn’t complaining. “It was fine. My brother’s kids were there, so I spent most of the time with them.”

“You like kids?”

“What’s not to like? They’re loud and sticky and don’t really follow social etiquette. It’s refreshing.”

Cora was staring at her, food halfway to her mouth.

“What?”

“That is the strangest definition of children I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“If there’s ever an invasion by aliens, I hope they recruit you to explain society.”

Frazer almost choked on her mouthful. “I think I’d confuse them more than help them.”

“Actually, I think you’d make it clear. Short, precise definitions. Great.”

“Whatever. Anyway—you don’t like kids?”

“I do.” Cora grabbed a bottle of water from her bag and twisted off the lid. “They’re fun.”

“Do you want any?” The question slipped out and fell between them. It danced far too close to the area of Cora’s life they didn’t talk about. Frazer felt like kicking herself.

The sip Cora took was slow, and she took even longer to swallow it as she considered the question. “I did. I think I still do. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Cora leant back against her chair. She wasn’t looking directly at Frazer anymore.

Shit. Frazer shouldn’t have asked that.

“I was pregnant.” Cora’s expression didn’t change, but there was a tightness to her voice. “It’s why we got married.”

And there it was. Truth. Something Cora never offered very willingly.

“Oh.”

Oh? Cora opened up and that was all Frazer could say? Oh? She owed Cora more than that.

The air felt heavier in the room, weighed down in meaning. Frazer couldn’t stop staring at Cora, waiting for more. Waiting for…something. Yet Cora only stared at her bottle, as if it could suck her in and take her to somewhere she hadn’t opened up herself.

Frazer really needed to say something. “What happened?” She had no idea if she was supposed to ask it. But if Cora had opened up to her, Frazer wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass.

“I lost her.”

It was a term Frazer hated. She hated to use it with parents. Hated the way it used the subject of the person carrying the baby, as if there could be someone to blame.