The family gathers around the fire. Roger is propped up on a chair. He cannot speak, but he holds Brianna’s hand. Jamie carves a small wooden bird. Claire reads from her medical journal. The camera pulls back slowly.
Operate? With what knife, Sassenach? We’ve no ether. No carbolic. Naught but whiskey and a prayer.
I bring a New Year’s gift, Fraser. One I’d rather have left in a ditch.
The swelling has reached his larynx. If I don’t operate within the hour, he will suffocate. In his sleep.
Roger’s chest heaves. Air whistles through the quill. A thin, reedy sound. But it is air . He opens his eyes. He mouths one word: "Bree."
[EXT. FRASER’S RIDGE - DAWN - 4K DRONE SHOT]
