Unlike the famous Ring of Brodgar on Mainland, Orkney’s largest island, this stone circle lacked a name. It held Madeleine’s interest anyway. Maybe it was the crumbling prehistoric settlement nearby, the dwellings of people who would have reverenced this spot just as Madeleine worshipped in Sacred Heart’s chapel, attached to the convent where she lived and prayed.

Orkney was just one stop on Sacred Heart’s summer tour. The international tour was eagerly anticipated every year by students, and this time they’d gone to Scotland. The Northern Isles were unlike the cities and highland landscapes they’d already seen. The main attraction had been the Italian Chapel, built by Catholic prisoners of war during World War II, but the neolithic history was hard to beat.

“It’s cold,” said Ava, another student.

Madeleine looked at the few other tourists and archaeological students examining the ruins. None of these other people seemed to be prioritizing the weather over priceless history. She swallowed down the uncharitable thought and unwound her gray scarf from her neck, which immediately developed goose bumps in the chilly air. “Take this.”

“Oh, Sister, I didn’t mean⁠—”

“I know.” Madeleine looped the scarf around Ava’s neck, and when Ava gave her a grateful look, Madeleine smiled back at her. “I’ll want it returned, mind you.”

“Yes, Sister Madeleine. Thank you.”

“Make sure to layer up tomorrow. Girls, go out there and take your notes. You’ll probably find it’s less windy if you go toward the settlement walls or the stones themselves.”

“I’m not touching them,” a third student, Hannah, protested. “What if they’re, you know…something?”

“What if they take you back in time, like Outlander?” Emma scoffed. Then she gave Madeleine a guilty glance. “Not that I’ve seen Outlander.”

“I certainly hope not,” a cool voice said, and they all turned as one to see the approach of Sister Agnes, assistant principal of Sacred Heart and the trip’s other chaperone. At fifty-four, she was nearly twenty years older than Madeleine and far less forgiving. “No Sacred Heart girl should know anything about that sinful trash.”

Sister Madeleine had read the book version of Outlander in college, before she’d had her calling. Best to keep her mouth shut about that.

“These stones are merely artifacts,” Agnes continued. “Appreciate them as part of human history before the coming of Christ. There’s nothing to fear from them.”

“Yes, Sister Agnes,” Hannah replied, not looking totally convinced.

Maybe something else would convince her. Madeleine said dryly, “Remember how much your parents paid to send you here.”