— So what now? he finally asks.
Keira and I exchange a look.
What now?
What do we do with this second chance history just handed us?
— I think we talk to Maggie, Keira says. If she has more letters, more answers, we need them.
— And then? Callum asks, looking straight at me.
— Then, I say, we try to do what Archibald and Elspeth couldn’t. We bring our families together. Our resources. Our strengths. We build something new—something that belongs to our future, not our past grudges.
Keira looks at me, something fierce and hopeful shining in her eyes.
Then she slips her hand into mine.
— Together, she says softly.
— Together, I echo, tightening my grip.
Callum watches us, and a slow smile spreads across his face.
— Well… if you’re serious about this, you’re going to need help convincing the rest of the family. We’re not exactly fans of the McKenzies—and from what I hear, the feeling is mutual.
— That’s putting it mildly, I mutter.
— Then it’s settled, he says. Let’s go see Maggie. If anyone can help us make sense of all this, it’s her.
As we gather everything and prepare to head back to the castle, I can’t stop thinking about Elspeth’s final words.
If not in this life… then perhaps in another, we will finish what we began.
Maybe this is that other life.
Maybe we are their second chance.
And this time… I intend to make sure the story ends differently.
CHAPITRE 29
KEIRA
The Hour of Reconciliation
— And you really thought I didn’t know any of this?
Maggie looks at Alistair and me with that familiar mix of fondness and exasperation she usually reserves for Lachlan when he tries to explain why Hamish has escaped again. We’re in her private sitting room—the one she only opens to special guests or grandchildren in disgrace. Spread across the coffee table in front of us are our discoveries: the two halves of the map and recipe, the divining rod, the barley seeds, and the letters from Archibald and Elspeth.
— Let me get this straight, Gran, I say slowly. You knew about Archibald and Elspeth? About their secret love? About the whisky they wanted to create together?
— My dear, she replies, sipping her tea, I’ve been the keeper of McGregor stories longer than you’ve been alive. Of course I knew.
Callum, leaning against the window, exchanges a knowing look with Alistair.
— Then why never say anything? Alistair asks. If the McGregors knew this story, why keep the rivalry with the McKenzies alive?
Maggie sets her teacup down with deliberate care and rises, crossing to the old bookshelf that spans the entire wall. She retrieves a small carved wooden box, something between a jewelry case and a keepsake chest.
