[ Jamie acknowledges the condolences with a nod, taking a moment to silently think of Faith, unable to conjure a memory to go with her because he'd been in prison the day she was born. The day she died.

Still, John's words pull a small smile from Jamie. ]

My own mother died in childbed when I was no' but a wee lad. Had she been alive when I was twenty, Christ. I dinna ken for sure, but perhaps I would have made different choices. 'Tis a gift, to have her here and now. And she does need me, though perhaps Claire more.

[ In the aftermath of her trauma she's wanted both of them close, but has gravitated toward her mother for obvious reasons. ]