"How did the master know this is the Brunschwig Distillery?"
"What do you an, little apprentice? Your master here hasn’t visited but can watch live streams, can’t he?" Elder Ford said with a bit of pride.
He started learning to use the internet at eighty, and now he is simply a pro at it.
Sean Lowell thought about it; his master even knows about #The Jilted finding his mom#, so how could he not know the real reason for his trip to Scotland?
"So, master, you know everything now. I thought I was hiding it pretty well." Sean Lowell was genuinely a bit out of it when he found the old newspapers.
"Haha, you little rascal, you’re old enough to give your master grand-apprentices. Don’t you know the saying that ginger gets hotter as it ages?" Elder Ford’s pride grew even more.
"How is the master old?" Sean Lowell knew better than anyone how to cheer up his master.
"Hahaha, you’re right. I t a young cop on Islay Island; back then he was about your age, now he’s almost retired. I told him my apprentice was visiting his area to find soone, so I’ll give you his contact number. If you need anything, just call him. With the cop’s help, it should be much easier for you to find soone."
Elder Ford’s care for his own children was never as attentive as it was for Sean Lowell.
His children have long since moved to big cities.
Even those involved with alcohol are in marketing and sales.
Even in distilleries, it’s all automated production lines.
None can settle down and focus on traditional brewing techniques like Sean Lowell.
Sean Lowell stared at the phone number Elder Ford sent in a daze.
Perhaps, after the storms life gives you, you’ll find an equal amount of rainbow afterward.
Now he already lives in a world full of rainbows, and he can surely bring Sumr Lowell into that reflection.
Elder Ford’s subtle care turned The Jilted into the present Sean Lowell.
He could also use the sa thod to slowly walk up to Sumr Lowell.
The important thing is not when to reunite, but to let smiles return to Sumr Lowell’s face.
"You’ve got enough nerve; even the wind can stir up springti feelings on your face." Gordon Sterling retrieves his phone and directly dials the "young cop" number Elder Ford sent.
Being abandoned by a certain soone’s troubleso sister in a "wilderness" with phone signal, finally getting the "young cop’s" number, not calling imdiately would be either foolish or criminal.
Elder Ford sent over a landline number.
Islay Island is sparsely populated, and people here aren’t keen on moving hos, so the call was quickly connected.
Thirty years flew by; the "young cop" Frederick ntioned by Elder Ford is almost sixty now.
Gordon Sterling briefly described his location, and Frederick drove over directly to pick him up.
Frederick felt sowhat curious about Sean Lowell and Gordon Sterling’s presence here.
After picking up Sean Lowell and Gordon Sterling, Frederick expressed his confusion in the most authentic Islay Island accent, "Why would you show up here?"
"Visiting the Brunschwig Distillery, taking a ’been there’ photo." Gordon Sterling couldn’t handle brewing techniques, but for most other things, he could learn quickly.
Language falls into the category of things one can pick up easily.
Sean Lowell’s English—most of it learned later from Elder Ford—is more brewing-related.
Gordon Sterling was already a top student who passed Level 6 as a freshman.
"Thirty-seven years ago, when Westwood Hieronymus’s family was murdered, so daring folks would co to the Brunschwig Distillery area to take commorative photos. Nowadays, it’s not very popular to visit here; I haven’t heard of anyone being able to tour this distillery." Frederick began speaking like a true local.
"Thirty-seven years ago, was Frederick already a cop here?" Gordon Sterling started probing for information.
"No, at the ti I was just proving my guts by visiting, like everyone else who couldn’t get inside at all." The cop said with so regret.
"Nineteen years ago, soone went in." Sean Lowell, who hadn’t spoken, pulled out a photo.
Just after Frederick ntioned no one could enter, Sean Lowell took out the photo given by Catherine’s Mother, featuring Quinn Fairmont inside the distillery, to counter with facts.
Gordon Sterling facepald; who is this perforr who doesn’t spare the cop’s ego?
"Nineteen years ago, I went inside too." Frederick, after saying this, imdiately recognized Quinn Fairmont in the photo: "I rember this woman; she died. The case was handled by ."
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