The look on Tia’s face had driven something home that Frazer had managed to keep at bay for so long: Alec was an innocent bystander in all this. Maybe not innocent in his marriage—Frazer wouldn’t know. But he didn’t deserve this. No one did.

He was going to get hurt. And Frazer was going to be part of that happening.

She was just taking a sip of her second self-pitying glass of wine when someone knocked at the door. Wine glass still at her lips, she looked at the door for a second. Then decided to ignore it.

So, of course, whoever it was knocked again.

With a sigh, she put the glass down. She’d be mad, but it was seven o’clock. This was still a halfway decent hour. Still, her pyjama pants were covered in images of fish, and she had a sudden feeling she was channelling her grandmother. Not good.

Grumbling to herself, she swung open the door.

“Jemma!”

Arms crossed, her sister stared at her from the doorway. With a scowl. It was like looking at Jemma back when she was fifteen and infuriated that Frazer wouldn’t buy her a bottle of vodka.

“Oh, you remember my name?”

Frazer rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. I talked to you yesterday on the phone.”

“Yeah—as you got out of having lunch with me. Again.”

Frazer clung to the door for support. “I’m sorry.” She even attempted a pout.

Jemma looked at her as if she’d farted. “Get that look off your face. I never see you anymore. I miss my sister.”

“I really am sorry, Jem. I swear. It’s been so hectic at work with the programme.”

Jemma opened her mouth to say something else but turned when headlights lit up Frazer’s driveway. Her brow furrowed. “You have people coming over? I thought you were busy?”

It was Cora’s car. Even as her hands went clammy, Frazer tried to keep her voice normal. “Come on, Jem. Look at my clothes—you really think I was expecting someone?”

With a glance at Frazer’s pyjamas, Jemma said carefully, “I guess not.”

Cora slid out of the car, hovering for a moment as she stared at Jemma and Frazer in the doorway. Squaring her shoulders, Cora closed the door and walked over to them.

“Hey,” she said to Jemma.

“Uh—hi.” Jemma gave an awkward wave.

“Jemma, Cora. Cora, Jemma.” Frazer’s knuckles were white from holding onto the door so hard as she tried not to die right there. Why was Cora here? There was no way Jemma wouldn’t ask questions about it.

Everything was crumbling around her. First Tia, now this.

What had she expected?

With her arms crossed, Jemma looked Cora up and down.

Frazer would rather be anywhere else right then.

They nodded at each other, Cora turning to look at Frazer. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.”