Harm thought Mac quite effectively compartmentalised her thoughts most of the way there. They managed to talk about everything – Bud, Harriet and their beautiful godson, the cases both of them had going, the Admiral and Marcella, Jen and Tiner – OK, he was getting onto a theme there. Maybe there was something significant they were always careful to keep unsaid. But it would be insensitive of him to even think about bringing it up when they were on their way to Chloe, who had just lost her grandparents and her father in one fell swoop. Harm felt so guilty thinking about it that he wanted to do a Dobby and bang his head against the car door, but he thought it might make his Marine a little suspicious.

Oddly enough, the journey didn't seem to take long at all. Before he knew it they were in town, pulling into a gas station where they filled up the car before moving on to the police station. They were met by the polite Colonel Durham, whose impeccable uniform rather impressed both Harm and Mac (who were both in civvies, having changed at their apartments.) Despite his stoic demeanour, he stole occasional yawns behind his hand as he talked them through the situation. He did – politely – ask Mac what relation she was to Chloe, to which Mac responded with "Her older sister, in a sense. I participated in a mentoring program where I was assigned Chloe as my "younger sister," and we've been pretty close since." Wisely, Colonel Durham left it there and began his explanation.

"There was some fog tonight across the state, and a lack of visibility was a real issue in many areas. In saying that, the driver was drunk and ran a red light at a 4-way intersection, crashing into the car as it went across. He was entirely in the wrong and will be receiving three charges of manslaughter in court."

"Have you spoken to Chloe?" Mac asked.

"I have," Colonel Durham responded, "and she gave me a rough outline of the timing of the crash which corroborated with that of the truck driver. She went home with her friend's mum. A station like this in the middle of the night is really no place for a kid."

"I completely agree. And all three of the passengers…"

"They all died, Ma'am. Both the driver and the female passenger on the scene, and the male passenger on the way to the hospital...their injuries were quite severe."

"Do you know what will happen to Chloe?"

"Well, ma'am…" he paused and sighed, as if uncomfortable having to share the information, "we haven't been able to locate any other family. Barring a miracle, the foster system seems a distinct possibility, but I'm sure you knew that."

"I suppose we always hope otherwise," Mac answered. It wasn't really any different than she'd expected. She'd always expected Chloe didn't have any immediate family apart from her father and grandparents (she would have encountered them before now), and where was there a place for a child like that except the foster system? She turned, grabbed Harm's hand and squeezed. "Well, thankyou very much for your time Colonel. You seem to have been very thorough, and I do appreciate that. We should go see Chloe now."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Mackenzie, Mr Rabb," the Colonel said as Harm and Mac rose to leave. "I only wish it could have been under better circumstances."

Harm and Mac dropped into opposite sides of the car in perfect synchrony. A choked, glottal cough could be heard from the driver's side, sounding like an attempt to clear the familiar lump in the throat that precedes tears. Harm's hand reached out and squeezed, and Mac started the car.

They were there. They were finally there, and Mac's heart flipped once, twice, and stilled. She flipped open her mobile to call Ellie's mum and, almost immediately, heard footsteps leading up to the door. They walked in to a kitchen centred around a thick wooden table and lit in shades of butter and orange. "I'll just get Chloe," Fiona explained, and walked up the stairs. A tousle-haired Chloe followed her down a moment later, and Harm could tell the exact moment she spotted them by the tears that formed at the corner of her eyes.

She increased her pace to the bottom of the stairs and then suddenly she was running, socks slipping on the wooden floor and arms stretched out to Mac. A resounding thump could be heard as she reached his partner, and instinctively Harm reached out a hand to steady her. Chloe was wrapped tight around Mac's waist, crying hard into her chest. Mac's fingers moved through her hair in a soothing, hypnotic rhythm. Fiona noted that despite there clearly being something between the two "partners" – they looked at each other with much more intensity than could be explained by a business relationship – Harm held back, giving Mac and Chloe some space. Her respect for him grew resoundingly.

But of course, Chloe hadn't forgotten about Harm. Her face not leaving Mac's chest, she grabbed him and pulled him in with one hand. His arms wrapped around both of them, lips against Mac's forehead and one hand on Chloe's back. Her whimpers turned into wracking sobs, like he was what she had needed to let go. Fiona let herself into the living room, leaving the family on their own in the gold-and-orange light, and closed the door.

"They're gone, Mac!" she said, barely comprehensible between choking sobs. "They're never coming back!" Having lost his father, Harm would like to imagine he understood some of what Chloe felt. But ultimately she had lost all of her blood at one fell swoop, and one of two functional parents could never compete.

He squeezed her tighter at the thought, promising that this girl would feel as safe and loved and adjusted as he could make her. His lips tingled on the skin of Mac's forehead, reminding him of their closeness – but he squashed the thought that they were almost like a family the moment it arose. He had promised himself that whatever he had with Mac would not be jinxed by jumping ten steps in as many seconds. This staircase would be climbed, slowly, one step at the time. It was the only way to stop him falling right back down, and landing on his head to facilitate another stupid comment which sent them back to the start.

Mac was comforting Chloe in a low voice, "I know, honey. I know" as the girl's body tossed in a storm of grief. Harm stroked her hair with his thumb, not knowing what to say – whether there was anything he could say – but wanting to be there regardless. He had promised himself she wasn't going through this alone.

Chloe had wanted to be near them (or Mac, at least) that night, so they booked the last remaining room in the town hotel. Apparently there was some sort of country music festival going on, and everywhere else was booked up. Harm quietly offered to sleep on the floor, leaving Mac and Chloe to the big, comfy-looking bed or the hard sofa in whatever combination they preferred.

Both girls told him he was an idiot and that they'd share the bed. Mac had wanted to sleep on the sofa instead, but she could tell that it worked better with she and Chloe together. There were many words Harm would usually use to describe his marine – feisty, determined, talented, rational, loyal – but he didn't think he'd ever seen her internal strength come out so much as it had today.

It got him thinking about how much he relied on that strength and perseverance to get him through. He supposed he knew, having followed her halfway around the world and had her do the same for him, that they relied on each other, but he had always thought he needed her in a way she didn't need him. He needed her sense, her dispassionate plans, her unflinching loyalty even when she had little faith in the endeavour itself. He needed Mac in a different way that Chloe did, but he needed her all the same.

Suddenly, he felt the need to see both of them. Tiptoeing across the room, grey socks slippery on a wooden floor, he peeked through the crack in the door. The wooden floor creaked and he paused instinctively, holding his breath as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Mac's solid breathing caught, then steadied. He reached the door and realised they were curled quietly around each other, Mac's arm over Chloe and her thumb drawing circles on her back.

Chloe shifted slightly, and Harm could see the tear-tracks down her face. She was stifling sobs that a still-sleeping Mac couldn't see. Harm paused for a moment, feeling like a voyeur, and then turned slowly away. He knew from personal experience that no matter how much he wanted to help, it was better to wait for Chloe to come to him. The image of her pulling him into their hug at Ellie's without moving her face from Mac's chest played through his head. She knew he cared about her, and would continue to do so no matter what – so his job was to stay beside her and wait until she opened up. Ignoring the twinge in his stomach which tugged his feet towards the bed, he concentrated on making no noise as he walked away.