Priscilla bristled, ready to argue, when she heard Winston nodding in agreement. "Your cousin is right. Not everyone is cut out to be a medical examiner."
"You lack the mental fortitude for it. Don't even think about that career path."
Priscilla mumbled under her breath, refusing to admit it out loud, but she knew she didn't have the stomach for it.
Being a doctor was one thing, but if she became a forensic pathologist, she'd probably end up sobbing over the corpses every day.
Priscilla always thought she was pretty brave. After all, she had seen plenty of bloody scenes growing up.
But dealing with the dead was entirely different.
Especially when those bodies turned up in every gruesome condition imaginable. Whenever Grant used to share his work stories, Priscilla would scream in terror.
If she actually chose that profession, she'd spend every waking moment on the verge of passing out.
"And Claire has the stomach for it?"
Priscilla still felt a bit defensive.
"Claire and I are both girls. Isn't it perfectly normal for girls to be scared of dead bodies?"
Grant gave his cousin a meaningful look. "She's nothing like you."
Claire clearly didn't believe in ghosts or the supernatural.
So she wouldn't be easily spooked.
She was calm, grounded, and never lost her cool.
Someone like that was born to be a forensic pathologist.
Too bad Claire didn't have the macabre tastes for it.
She just smiled and offered a polite apology. "I don't have any plans to minor in forensics right now."
"Fair enough."
Grant didn't push the issue.
She was a woman, and there was no reason to force anyone into such a gritty field.
There were very few female medical examiners at the precinct, mostly because women tended to let their emotions cloud their judgment.
Emotions could easily interfere with objective analysis.
He only suggested it because Claire was genuinely exceptional.
If she didn't want to, he'd just drop it.
Over dinner, Winston brought up his sister, Mary.
"My sister misses you terribly. When she heard I was coming to Cabinda, she made
me pack a mountain of things for you."
Winston had watched Claire grow up.
He was grateful that she had never forgotten her roots.
His sister had raised the girl, and the girl always remembered that kindness.
And his sister doted on her just as much.
Mary was relatively distant with her own two sons, yet she was incredibly affectionate toward Claire, a granddaughter with whome shared no blood.
Some people might find it hard to understand.
Mary's own explanation was that since raised Claire
single-handedly, it felt like rail net
younger version of herself
Furthermore, Claire wasn't just her granddaughter; she was her protégé.
She was her most brilliant student-how could she not adore her?
As for her two sons, they took after their father.
It wasn't that she didn't love her husband, but businessmen always prioritized profit above all else.
That fundamental mindset clashed entirely with Mary's core values.
The couple had been deeply in love in their youth, but as the years went by, their worldviews drifted further apart.
They spent more time apart than they did together.
Rather than fight over minor disagreements, they chose to bottle things up in silence.
Since her husband wanted to raise the boys, Mary didn't object.
Neither of them took after her anyway.
She was always buried in her work, naturally leaving her with little time to parent them.
Consequently, the boys were much closer to their father.
Mary often reflected that if her
Let
husband hadn't passed away early, their marriage probably,
have survived into old age. .net
Despite their love, their personalities were simply polar opposites.
Occasionally, she wondered if she hadn't shown her husband enough affection, or if
she had been too demanding of her sons.
But she always quickly dismissed those thoughts.
She simply didn't have the time for regret.
Her time equated to other people's lives; it couldn't be squandered.
"Mary's the best."
Claire was thrilled that the older woman was still thinking of her.
Winters in Cabinda were significantly harsher than in Apex.
The older woman had even sent Winston with a thick, fur-lined cloak that was incredibly warm.