[ Her children don't come up often in lengthy discussion either, save for with John. She can't dwell on what she's missing, or she might not ever shake the aching that creeps up in her chest sometimes. Making a soft noise in the back of her throat, she exhales at the question. ]

I'm separated from her in my world now, too. I left her behind in the century she was born into, after I discovered Jamie was alive. With her blessing, of course, but...sometimes I wonder—when I left in that recollection you overheard, I left behind an adopted son and there are things I missed.

[ Lose one, gain one. Not a fair situation, and without Jamie to truly protect Fergus, he'd lost a hand. But there is hope. ]

Yet again, thanks to Lord John, I know we're all reunited for the most part, or we have been over the decade. Every day I'm here, I'm trying to think of a way to help find a way home.

[ She's thought about how far back that will set her yet again. ]

If we go, and indeed return to the moment we left, John will be a stranger again. When you leave here, have you discovered how much time passes before you're reunited?