It had kept Cora deliciously occupied and focussed, and she’d felt the band that had been strapped around her chest for years loosen. She could breathe, she could laugh. Guilt played no part in anything she did, and Cora realised she had found something she wanted to do time and time again. Something that was hers to enjoy, to make a difference, to raise awareness. The programme she had started with Frazer, without her realising it, had opened up in her that need to do more. That need she’d once had but lost.

Having something she was doing for her own happiness made Cora feel as if she’d grown a few inches.

She hadn’t walked as if on eggshells for so long now.

The familiar dip of the plane descending barely registered. Her eyes were still on the sun now almost completely gone, to be watched by someone else.

Even though she’d barely missed anything from home, she had missed Frazer.

Cora had Lisa, a friend she was so grateful to have. Yet always, like an undercurrent below everything, she missed Frazer. It had only been a matter of months, but the shock of her had resonated through everything Cora had thought she’d known about herself.

Yet there’d been nothing from Frazer, no e-mail, no anything. So Cora didn’t try to contact her, trying to respect what Frazer clearly wanted.

And all of that was okay, because Cora had realised that she was very much okay, comfortable in her own skin, and living her own life.

There was a smile on her lips as the wheels touched the tarmac with a jolt.

* * *

“Jemma, I don’t have time for this.”

“Frazer?”

But it was Tia’s voice on the line, and Frazer winced. She really needed to look at her caller ID before answering. “Tia! I’m so sorry. I thought it was my sister.”

The chuckle down the line warmed her even more. “I figured as much. How is your delightful younger twin?”

“We’re nothing alike.”

“Right. And I’m not fabulous, nor the best secretary anyone could ever hope for.”

Grinning, Frazer answered, “Well, now you’ve made it impossible for me to argue that.” She sat in her parked car, not wanting to get out until she was off the phone. The weather might be warming up, but her car was still comfy.

“Exactly.”

“Can I help, Oh Modest One?”

“Yes, you can. I’ve found you a social worker.”

The words caused a clench in Frazer’s stomach. She had to remind herself that this was a good thing—they needed a social worker. The first one that Frazer had found had left after the first week of the clinic’s opening, when he was offered a job at a hospital that guaranteed better hours for almost double pay.