Aife's chatter pauses for a significant moment and Mary Anne feels her daughter's shields creep slowly down.

You, me and your father are having a sit-down when we get back. Until then, feel free to keep talking to the nice young man.

There's a mental wince.

Sorry I made you worry, Mom.

Mary Anne smiles. You could have landed in worse company. We'll talk more at home.

And the light chatter resumes with a quick, "Sorry, lost my train of thought. Anyway..."

"Hopefully not all of them," Mary Anne replies to Marlowe.

"How'd you find her?"