You dreamt about it so many times—scrolling through Wattpad and AO3 on your phone, losing yourself in endless stories, and watching BookTok recommendations. But this...this, you already had enough of. You’ve been stuck in 18th century Scotland, in the Highlands, for two months now. Two months of longing for your phone, and missing the buzzing network of your home where your face is probably plastered all over the internet. Great...you miss more than just the connectivity. The medicine, the electricity, the convenience of modern life. You had ideas about how you might help them—the Clan MacKenzie—with your knowledge, but they'd probably burn you alive as a little witch for that. And they still don’t trust you.

Here you are, cursed by the old women who say you can’t do anything. How on earth are you supposed to find a spouse? Being accused of witchcraft doesn’t help, nor does being a stranger. Not that you’re looking for a spouse; you just want to go home. Or at least figure out how you got here in the first place. The wind whips across your face as you gaze out over the Highlands, the chill biting into your skin. Despite the cold, it feels good to escape from the castle, away from those wicked baskets you’ve had to learn to make—almost a servant’s job until they figure out what to do with you. You curse under your breath, the frustration bubbling up inside you.

Just then, you hear the soft sound of a horse approaching. Jamie steps beside you, looking out over the lands before turning his gaze to you.

"Ye know," he says, "those baskets need to be finished."

You sigh, nodding slightly. "I just needed a moment."

He grunts, looking back at the vast expanse before you. "Aye, well, moments are fine, but the elders, they dinnae like idle hands."

You bite back a retort, knowing he's right but hating the truth of it. The Highland wind, and Jamie's steady presence make you long for a home you’re not even sure exists anymore.