Moni was struggling to keep up a decent pace. With every step, she lagged further behind the other two. At least I don’t feel cold, she thought. When they had first stepped out of the cottage, she had felt the fresh breeze on her face like a smack. Now she needed it on her flushed cheeks, swallowed it in gulps. At least the floating jellyfish and sharp black spots that usually beset her when she exerted herself hadn’t yet made an appearance. If they blocked her vision, she would stop walking. She would give up and just sit on the floor of the forest, leaning her back against a tree. Now she must keep walking. Around her, the trees rose high and the sunlight needed to work hard to filter through them. The forest would always be damp and fungal, sour-smelling. Moni knew she did not belong here, but this was the last full day in the loch. They would be at the Glencarron estate tomorrow. That was bound to be memorable, especially now that she had read Lady Evelyn’s book and been touched by her special friendship with her grandson, Toby. They had been so close that he had asked to be buried next to her. Moni trudged along after the others. Knowing herself, she guessed that she would forget this forest. It would slide from her memory. She would, though, always remember Adam. He was the loch and the loch was him, and all these past days were about him. He would stay in her memory while the physical features of the loch would blur and mix up with photos she had seen or with scenes from television. She might remember the interior of the cottage, the kitchen where she had spent most of her time. Most likely she would also remember the refectory in the monastery, the dense feeling in the place. She had been looking for Adam that day and he had suddenly walked through the door.