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life had run its course. It was over.

All she was left with were memories that shehoarded as if they would be ripped away from her as well. In a truemoment of madness, Mikah had found herself talking to him out loudone night, telling him about her day.

It had to stop. She knew it but somehow shecouldn’t let him go.

Getting a cup of coffee and carrying it intoher office, Mikah sat, elbows on her desk, and buried her face inher hands, rubbing at her eyes. She couldn’t go on like this. Thisobsession was starting to affect her work.

Picking up a pile of mail, Mikah thumbedthrough them with half a mind. Flyers for estate sales, letters ofsmall country museums closing and looking for a home for theirexhibits, catalogs, and so on. Mikah worked through the pile, andabout half way through, pulled out a thick 9 x 12 envelope. Slicingit open, she pulled out an auction catalog, only to drop it with agasp as she pushed away from the desk.

Scrambling to retrieve it, Mikah stared downat the auction catalog with eyes wide with shock. Rubbing her eyes,Mikah looked again. Dùn Cuilean? No, it truly was. It was actuallya real castle and not just a figment of her imagination. How wasthat possible?

Clutching the catalog, Mikah grabbed her coatand purse and ran from the museum, ignoring Bernie’s worried cries.She slipped and skidded across the employee parking lot until shewas in her car.

Starting it, Mikah gripped the steering wheelwith both hands, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She looked up atthe museum, its arcing white spines opened wide today, giving theimpression of a bird or glider ready to take flight. Her heartracing and blood pumping, Mikah thought she was ready to soar aswell.

“Mikes, come on in!” Kris called from thesofa when Mikah simply opened the door and entered withoutknocking. She tossed her purse unceremoniously into a nearbychair.

“Well, Kris, I think I’ve finally truly lostit.”

“What? Again?” Kris answered sarcastically.“Come, have some wine and shock me again.”

“Kris, it’s eleven in the morning!”

“And I’ve been up since five shopping, honey.I need a drink,” Kris replied, looking over the top of the glass atMikah. “You look about ready to pop. What’s up?”

“Okay, I know you thought I was goingcompletely cuckoo there for a while, and I was right there withyou. I was a believer,” Mikah said, stripping off her coat andpacing the room.

“And something has happened to change allthat?”

“Yes. This.” Mikah tossed the catalog intoKris’s lap.

“And this is?”

“That is Cuilean, Kris. Dùn Cuilean.My Cuilean!” Mikah was nearly panting with excitement as shetapped the picture on the cover.

“You do need a drink … or two.” Kris said,flipping through the first few pages of the catalog. “So, it’ssimilar. A castle is a castle, isn’t it?”

“Not similar,” Mikah insisted with a shake ofher head as she dropped down next to Kris on the sofa and took thecatalog, opening it to a random page and pointing. “The same. Lookat this. Item 27. That is the painting that hung next to the windowin the dining room. Item 48. That is my music box. The one Ian andI danced to.”

“Mikah …”

“No, look! Item 179. That’s my dress. I worethat dress,” Mikah said insistently. “All of these things are frommy Cuilean. And look at the picture on the front. That’s thecastle. It’s real. It’s all real.”

“You’re starting to scare me, girl.”

“I’m pretty terrified, too. But that was mylife. I know every nook and cranny of a place I’ve never been.” Awide smile split Mikah’s lips. Perhaps the first real one she hadfelt since her return. “It wasn’t all a dream. It couldn’t be. Sotell me, am I nuts or not?”

“You are a mixed bag of cashews, peanuts, andalmonds.”

“Kris, come on!”

Kris took the brochure once more and lookeddown at the cover, seeing the castle just as Mikah had described itmonths ago, and looked back up at her eager face, not knowing whatto think. He had known Mikah since they were in kindergarten backin Oshkosh. They had been best friends ever since she had pushedhim off the playground swings on the second day of school.

Through all the years, she had stood by him.Through the worst of it, she had defended him against bullies andteasing in junior high and high school. She had held his handtightly when he had come out seven years before and had never letgo. They’d been there for each other during the good and the bad,through breakups and outright dumpings.

But this was crazy. The queen of crazy.

Unless …

“There’s a history here of the castle.” Kristilted the catalog toward Mikah for a second before reading thebrief synopsis. Dùn Cuilean had been the ancestral home of theEarls of Maybole and the Marquis of Ayr until into the 1950s, whenit had been closed up for almost thirty years. It had been reopenedin the 1980s as an exclusive bed and breakfast. But with thestruggling economy, they were closing and selling to HistoricScotland, who would open the castle as a museum.

Many items found in the castle were beingkept for display, but the bulk of the estate was being sold off tocover the owner’s losses.

The rest of the catalog listed pictures anddescriptions of thousands of pieces of art, furniture, and décorthat were included in the auction. Flipping it shut, Kris stareddown at the cover, smoothing his hand across the glossy picture. Ithad never occurred to him that this Cuilean was a real place. Heshook his head stupidly. Why would it have?

Neither had it occurred to Mikah.

It had been a dream, hadn’t it? But how couldshe have dreamt of a place in such detail?

Drawing his laptop onto his lap, Kris GoogledDùn Cuilean and Mikah leaned against his arm with an exclamation,wondering why she hadn’t thought to do the same. Immediately thescreen was filled with options, proving that the castle truly didexist. Historic Scotland, the organization that fundeddozens of museums throughout Scotland—including GoMA, Mikah pointedout—had their fingers into Cuilean. It was a national marvel, afine representation of Adam’s work. There was a website for the Band B, for tours

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