Jack looked for Frae amongst the dispersing students, but there was no sign of her bright russet hair. She’s with Mirin today, he recalled, the tension in his shoulders easing. She’s safe, at home.

He continued to watch the activity in the streets. He decided to leave—after all, Adaira had stood him up—and he hurried through the courtyard to the market.

“What’s happening?” he asked one of the women who was closing her bakery.

“You didn’t hear the news?” she replied. “Another lass has gone missing.”

“Who?” Jack demanded.

“I’m not sure yet. Several names have been mentioned, but we’re waiting for it to be confirmed by Captain Torin.”

At once, Jack’s stomach dropped, his blood ran cold, and his thoughts scattered like broken glass. On the mainland, he had been afraid of nothing but failure. Failing a class, failing to graduate, failing to please his lover. His fears had only pertained to himself and his own performance. Now he realized how self-absorbed he had been all those years. He was swiftly learning ever since he had returned home that he couldn’t live on music alone, that he cared about and needed other things, even if their appearance in his life came as an utter shock, like bulbs blooming after a long winter. He felt his greatest fear come to life within him, a fear that had been born only days before.

Frae could be missing.

He didn’t waste another moment.

Jack sprinted along the road. He refused to stop, even when his breath turned to fire in his lungs and a stitch pulled in his side. He ran all the way to Mirin’s croft and vaulted over the yard fence, and he thought his heart had melted when he burst through his mother’s front door.

He halted, his boots leaving a track of mud on the floor. Mirin stood at her loom, startled and wide eyed as she turned to behold his dramatic entrance. And there was Frae, sprawled on the divan, reading a book with flowers tucked in her braids.

He stared at his little sister, as if he didn’t trust his own eyes, and he trembled as he shut the door. He felt a rush of relief, followed by a twinge of guilt, to know it wasn’t Frae but another nameless lass.

“Jack?” Mirin asked. “Jack, what’s wrong?”

“I thought . . .” He couldn’t speak. He swallowed and battled his breath. “I heard another lass went missing.”

“Which lass?” Frae cried, shutting her book.

“I’m not sure. No names have been shared yet.” Jack hated the fear that crept over Frae’s expression. “Perhaps it’s only a rumor, and not true at all. You know how the wind gossips.”

Mirin’s gaze shifted to her daughter. “It’ll be all right, Frae.”

Jack was stricken as Frae’s face crumpled, on the verge of tears.