Present day

Kira answered the telephone without knowing that the call would change everything. She picked it up with a cheery "hello." As if everything was fine.

As if there hadn't been a shadow haunting her ever since she'd been a well-adjusted seven-year-old. As if she hadn't been forcibly ignoring the secrets that were constantly whispering in her mind, beckoning her. Come find us, Kira. We're waiting for you….

"Would this be a Miss Kira MacLellan?"

She shivered. His accent was thick and so very much like her mother's had been, that it caused her throat to close up and her eyes to burn. But there was something beyond that. Something familiar, that made her stomach clench up tight. Swallowing with difficulty, she drew a breath. "It's Kira Monroe. My mother was a MacLellan."

"And so're you, as you always will be. But that's neither here nor there, is it now?"

"I…have no idea. Who is this?"

"My name's Ian Stewart. I'm a solicitor, calling from Scotland on behalf of your great aunt Iris MacLellan. It's my sad duty to info rm you of her passin'. And sorry I am to be tellin' you of it. She was a fine woman."

"I'm sure she was, though I never met her. I never even knew I had a great aunt Iris."

"Ah, you've a raft of relations here in Scotland . An' it's long past time you should be meetin' 'em. Better late than never, I suppose."

"I'm sorry?"

"The viewing will be on Thursday next. We've delayed it a bit to give you time, what with the distance you'll be travelin'."

"I'm sorry Mr.—"

"Stewart," he said quickly. "But you must call me Ian. I'm practically family myself."

"I'm not going to be able to make it for the funeral."

"Oh, but you have to make it within two days of the funeral, at the very least. The readin' o' the will is to be held then. And it's required ye be present or your inheritance will be divided between those who are."