Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
She waited until she was seated opposite me. “Ms. Howard, we’d just like to ask you a few questions regarding the reason for your visit to Scotland today.”
I leaned toward the iPad she had in front of her. “Didn’t I put that on my forms?”
“Yes. But considering you’ve spent an accumulated forty-two months in Scotland in the last four years, that suggests to Immigration that you’re permanently living in the UK without the correct visa.”
Oh shit.
I gaped at her, not sure how to respond because she was kind of right.
“Two of my colleagues are on their way to ask you a few questions about this. Hopefully, it won’t be too long and we can sort this out.”
“My sister lives here,” I said hurriedly. “I’m only visiting my sister. I promise.”
“Like I said, my colleagues will discuss that with you.”
An overwhelming panic filled me at the thought of being sent back to the States. The kind that made my breathing turn shallow and my cheeks tingle. As the woman left the room, I closed my eyes and focused on the breathing exercises I’d learned while studying mindfulness.
It will be okay, I promised myself, trying to shove out the fear.
Somewhere between Inverness and Ardnoch
Eight hours later
We were barely twenty minutes into the hour drive to Ardnoch when my cab driver started making disapproving sounds that soon turned into a jumble of Scottish I didn’t understand. Except for the curse words. Those I understood.
“What’s wrong?” I asked from the back seat of the old taxi.
“Warning light’s on. Sorry, doll, I’ll need to find somewhere to pull over.”
I slumped back in the seat, cursing myself for getting in a car that looked like it was older than me. But the guy had been the only taxi left outside the airport.
It was early June. Tourists were crawling all over the Highlands, taking all the cabs with them.
Sure enough, he slowed the car and pulled it up onto the grass at the side of the road. I’d visited enough times, spent hours and days exploring the Highlands, to know that the tranquil water gleaming in the late-afternoon sun on our left was an inlet of the Cromarty Firth.
We were still a good forty minutes from home.
Home.
If I didn’t do something soon and fast, my home would be taken from me.
I threw the thought away because it tightened my chest. Leaning forward, I asked, “Can I call someone for you?”
“On it.” The cabbie waved his cell at me and then proceeded to contact someone called “Bowbeh.” I assumed his name was actually Bobby. Scottish people. You gotta love those accents.
I did love those accents.
Pressing my nose almost to the passenger window, I sighed heavily. I loved the landscape. I loved the dichotomy of the soft, the gentle, against the rugged wildness. Most of the Scots I’d met were earthy and real in a way I hadn’t always experienced growing up as a child of a famous director and supermodel. Scots had a strong sense of self, of country, had a great sense of humor and were not easily offended, which was refreshing in a world where everyone was offended by everything.
Except for Ardnoch during the summer when tourists descended, the Highlands felt like it was part of another universe entirely. It sounded kind of crazy since I was only twenty-five years old, but I’d found peace here. This beautiful, largely untouched place filled my soul and calmed the voices of a past that still haunted me.
And this place had one hold on my heart that no other had.
Aria was here.
My big sister.
My safe place.
Tears threatened at the thought of not being near her anymore. To returning to long-distance phone calls and daily texts. It just wasn’t the same.
June wasn’t overly hot in this part of the country, but the sun was beating through the window and with the car engine off, there was no AC.
The driver hung up. “Sorry, lass. My mate is coming to tow me to Inverness. We’ll sort you out with a taxi when we get back.”
Shit.
I was jet-lagged, worried, and I just wanted to be in Ardnoch already. Nodding numbly, I mumbled, “I’m going to step out for some air.”
“Be careful of that road. It’s a sixty.”
I knew that from the way cars flew past us, making the vehicle shudder. “I’ll stick to the grass,” I promised.
I stepped out of the car, my sneakers hitting the lush green blades. My legs trembled a little as I straightened. Shutting the car door behind me, I stared out at the inlet. Across the way, a patchwork of fields in varying shades of green, dotted with trees here and there, swept upward. Peeking behind them were hills I’d seen covered in snow only a few short months ago.
The sky above was blue, enjoying a reprieve from the clouds that were now floating into the distance. The sun warmed my face even as a gentle breeze swept up from the glassy surface of the firth. The musky, sweet smell of a nearby cluster of purple thistles mingled in the air with the salty scent of sea and the earthy odor of the surrounding fields.