She leaned back against the wall of the tower, soaking up the warmth of the sun on her face as she imagined how she might feel if this had been her home and she had come back to see what had become of it. How Isla would feel if she had found herself standing right here in this moment looking upon the castle of her childhood. The pain that sliced through Elle felt real. She felt abandoned and devastated.

Elle gave herself a small shake. She’d obviously been watching too much Outlander. Time travel wasn’t real, any more than the Loch Ness monster was. Although, she supposed talking to your dead grandmother could also be considered unlikely and yet …

‘Stop it,’ she scolded herself. ‘You came here to draw, not daydream.’ And Stuart could be back at any time.

Sitting on a rock nearby, she took out her sketchpad. The first few drawings were made with quick strokes and lines, capturing the harshness of rock and rubble, but when she turned the page and began another, this time her pencil skimmed across the paper as if of its own accord, a quick mark in one section, a long, deliberate line elsewhere, the lead pencil building up on itself, creating a gradient of shading that gave depth to the shapes she had created on the paper.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there for, but the page quickly filled up and the first faint lines took shape and grew into something that seemed to leap from the page.

When she finished, Elle leaned back, feeling the muscles in her back protest as she straightened, but she didn’t pay them any attention, she was too busy staring at the picture on the page in her lap. It was almost as though she’d been working in a trance. She didn’t remember consciously deciding to draw the castle that now stared back at her—not as the ruins that were before her, but as a fierce yet beautiful castle standing proud and magnificent in all its glory. It was as detailed and lifelike as if it had really been standing there for her to sketch, only it wasn’t and somehow she’d known exactly what it looked like despite the fact it was all but rubble and one crumbling tower now.

The gently shaded areas and intricate stonework made the drawing feel as though she could almost step through into the picture and touch it, and she felt a shaky breath leave her chest as she blinked back tears.

Stormeil Castle had once looked so beautiful, and the shock of seeing it as it was now felt like seeing a loved one sick and ill, and a mere shadow of the person they once were.

I always said you had a talent, my darling girl, Gran’s voice whispered from close by. Just beautiful.