Claire stood in the midst of the gathering crowd, her arms painfully stretched above her head, the rough rope digging into her flesh. She refused to let her fear consume her, channelling her anger and fury as a shield against the impending pain. The silence that fell over the onlookers heightened the tension in the air, their anticipation palpable. John MacRae, the one who held her fate in his hands, adjusted her position with an air of cold detachment, his eyes fixed on the spectacle about to unfold.