‘I couldn’t see her … not then,’ Elle said hesitantly. ‘I could hear her, though.’

Moira nodded, her pale eyes holding Elle’s as she reached out and clasped her hand. ‘I knew you were special,’ she said softly. ‘So much like Iona.’

‘Moira, what is it—why could I hear Gran?’

‘A gift,’ Moira replied solemnly. ‘A very special gift. Treasure it—don’t be like me. For years I tried to ignore and deny it. Be grateful that the ancestors trusted you enough to bestow this gift upon you.’

‘But … what do I do with it?’ Elle asked.

Moira gave a fleeting smile before she closed her eyes.

Elle bit back her frustration. What was the point of having a gift like this if no one told her what to do with it? Maybe other than helping Gran, there wasn’t any point to having it. Maybe that had been her purpose and it was now done with? Either way, it was clear she wasn’t getting any more answers from Moira today. And at this moment, she didn’t really mind. That part of her journey was complete.

Her parents spent another three days with her before heading to London and then on to Paris, making the most of their unexpected trip. They were happier than Elle could ever recall seeing them; her mother seemed more relaxed, and her father so enjoyed the time with his Scottish relatives that Elle was positive there would be follow-up visits from both sides of the family in the future.

Their farewell was a little sad, but not tinged with the same frustration as the first time. Elle wasn’t sure when she would see them again as she had no real plan set in stone, but she knew that things had changed for the better.

Later that same day, she moved in to Aila’s cottage. For a long while Elle sat on the end of the bed in her new room and stared at the set of empty drawers, which were waiting for her to unpack her belongings, trying to force the image of another set of empty drawers from her mind.

She’d found a soft woollen jumper that belonged to Stuart in her bag when she’d been digging through it to find something to wear. She’d buried her face into its softness and breathed in his scent, and felt the tentative melding of her fragile heart unravel once more. It was still too raw to think about, and she wondered when it would ever begin to feel better. In time, she reminded herself.

Staring at the drawers, she knew she had no reason not to unpack now. She’d started working in the gift shop and Grace was officially on maternity leave, so she had a full-time job and a wage for at least the next six months.