Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

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“Brianna, come here please.” “Yes mother, I’ll be there in a sec.” I sighed and turned my computer screen off. I looked around my room. It was all…random. Just things I saw and liked an incorporated into my design. As I headed out towards the living room I glanced at my clock. It was blinking 7:19 am. I’d have to leave for school soon. It was my last week of high school and then I’d be free.” But not for long”, I thought ruefully. Frank would make me go on to a university and go into law or something.

Frank had truly become unbearable lately. When I was 12 I found out he was cheating on my mom. I tearfully told her expecting for her to break down and cry. But instead she gave me a sweet sad smile and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and said softly, “I know.” I was shocked but she told me the story. Frank wasn’t my father. A man named James Fraser was; a scot who lived in the 1700’s. At first I didn’t believe her, but as time moved on I saw the proof. For one thing Frank was only around 5”10’ and had dark hair and eyes. I was about 6” and had bright red hair and dark blue eyes. The one thing I had inherited from my mom was her more delicate bone structure.

I walked out of my room into our spacious living room. My mother, Claire, sat on our sofa looking shaken and pale. She smiled slightly when she saw me. “Sit down, sweetheart; I have something to tell you.” I looked at her uneasily, but did what she asked. She gazed straight into my eyes her easily readable face conveying confusion and grief.

“Frank…Frank is dead.” I felt my jaw fall towards the ground. “Whaaaa..?” My mom got up and started to pace agitatedly. “He and I got in at fight. He was going to leave with his latest mistress. He was going to take you with him. I said no. He left. To calm myself I stopped by work. Not long after they brought him. His car slid on ice and he crashed.” She looked up at me. “I loved him once. I truly did. Not anymore, not in a romance sort, but I cared about him. And Brianna he loved you, so very very much. I know you began to dislike him, but he tried to be a good dad.”

My mind was numb. Frank wasn’t my dad, but he was the closest thing I had to one. I didn’t particularly like him, but I never wanted him dead. I looked at my mom. “I’ll miss him.” She nodded and came and gave me a hug. “I will too.” I looked up at her; not being able to stop feeling scared and unsteady. “What are we going to do now?” She looked up at me her gaze direct and steady.

“We are going to Scotland.”