The Scottish Highlands did not care about human sorrow. They stood like ancient, brooding giants under a bruised purple sky, wrapped in a relentless, freezing mist.

Aneesha shivered, pulling her heavy wool coat tighter around her as she walked along the narrow, winding trail. At twenty-four, she had learned to find solace in the loneliness of nature. Living alone in Edinburgh had its charms, running her small, cozy vintage bookshop, but the city was suffocating. She needed the mountains to quiet the ghosts in her head.