Roger speaking to Brianna: It's too important. You don't forget having a dad." You do remember your father?" No. I remember yours.

I stood still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

Torn between the impulse to stroke his head, and the urge to cave it in with a rock, I did neither.

You're tearin' my guts out, Claire.

Alright, all right," I said. "What if I tell you a story, instead?" Highlanders loved stories, and Jamie was no exception. "Oh, aye, " he said, sounding much happier. "What sort of story is it?

It would ha' been a good deal easier, if ye'd only been a witch.

For I had come back, and I dreamed once more in the cool air of the Highlands. And the voice of my dream still echoed through ears and heart, repeated with the sound of Brianna's sleeping breath. "You are mine," it had said. "Mine. And I will not let you go.