An imagination is so important, honestly. And books, I can't tell you how much I read on my own. [ Pausing what she's doing, Claire looks directly at Arthur, expression warm. ] You know, there may be quite a lot of differences between our worlds, but I feel as though you and I share a little in common.

[ In this world, and in the 20th century, Claire was not and is not considered strange—until she wanted to go to medical school, no man could conceive of it, not even Frank at first. But in the 18th century, her strangeness nearly got her killed more than once, and she had to learn what not to say, how to make herself meek when that went completely against her character. Holding her tongue used to feel like a pressure cooker building up steam, but she learned over time. Being seen as 'other' was dangerous, and no matter what she did, she was always an 'other' in Scotland. ]

I didn't have a sibling, though. My parents died when I was four, and my uncle never had children, he hardly knew what to do with me. It must've been nice to at least have a built-in friend? [ Unless they weren't close, which she hopes isn't the case, otherwise she's stuck her foot in her mouth. ]