8
After I took a quick nap to try to settle my nerves a bit, I contemplated wandering Inverness and taking in a bit more of the town. My introverted nature, however, decided it was better to just stay in the room, relax, and enjoy the quiet. Beattie headed out to a museum, and I spent the time lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling.
As I studied the smooth finish above me, I slipped into the kind of state I used to find when I was a kid looking up at the clouds. I was relaxed but not asleep, not thinking about anything in particular. I let my mind shift from thought to thought—Adaire, Eilean Donan, Uncle Fitz, Davis MacDonald.
Somewhere in that gliding meditation, a crisper thought came into focus, and I sat up. Beattie had left the letters from S on the nightstand between our beds,
