"Sounds good," Randin nodded, taking a breath and assuming a seat in a nearby chair. There was a nervous anxiety in his stomach... a slight stirring in his chest that the detective had once been familiar with. Years of police force in the most corrupt and dangerous city in the world had beaten most of the jitters out of Randin in good time. Faced with the prospect of losing a woman he loved suddenly re-ignited an ancient tepidity in the stern officer.
"Promise me one thing, Mollem," Randin sighed, "...don't... don't tell her what I've told you. Not yet. Let me tell her." He nodded. He briefly considered making up a lie as to why Mollem was here, but quickly dismissed the idea. No more deceit. "You can tell her you're here at my behest, but don't tell her all the details. At most, you can say you don't know. That wouldn't be too far from the truth." The detective reclined into his seat. "Remember, she's going to be fragile. She really needs someone to fall back on. I'm not sure if that someone can be you, but I don't have any other ideas." He smirked. "...unless you feel like calling Raphael down here for a mommy-son comfort session?"