Chapter 314 314
Sabine POV
How could a caravan build up that much condensation overnight?
All I did was breathe.
It wasn’t as if I’d been having wild, rampant sex in here all night.
Though if I were being honest I did often dream of a certain someone licking me everywhere, slow and deliberate, until I woke in the early hours slick with sweat and carrying a deep, aching frustration that refused to ease until midmorning.
But those dreams came with a price.
Cold.
At least last night had been mercifully dreamless. No intrusive images of a man I’d sworn I would never think about again. What was the point? That life was over. Finished. Belonged to a version of me that no longer existed.
As I brewed my first cup of coffee, I pushed open the caravan door, desperate to let fresh air flood inside. It was barely five in the morning early spring, the sun still hours away from rising and overpowering the moon’s soft glow. The world outside was dark, silent, and biting cold.
Perfect.
I was already bundled into four layers, though the chill still found its way through. Mornings were cold now, but nothing compared to the brutal midwinter nights. Only a few days ago had I finally stopped sleeping in my dressing gown, which had served as a makeshift extra layer to help me drift off. With nothing more than a pathetic little fan heater to fight the snow and ice this winter, climbing into bed each night had been an exercise in dread knowing full well how painful it would be to get out of it come morning.
Today was Sunday my day off but with the farming couple away, dawn feeding duty fell to me.
After finishing my coffee, I stepped into the tiny, compact bathroom to get ready. Once I felt marginally human again, I tugged my woolly hat into place, bracing myself mentally for the cold outside. I’d already heard the kettle click back on; a hot water bottle was essential if I wanted to survive the morning. Honestly, I had never been this cold in my entire life.
Adjusting my hat in the mirror, I paused.
The woman staring back at me was unrecognisable compared to the one from six months ago. The dyed brown hair was gone, my natural blonde finally free to exist in full, unapologetic vibrancy. I didn’t need to hide anymore. No cameras. No watchers. No chance of being tracked in the remote stretch of farmland I now called home.
Exactly how I wanted it.
Every morning, without fail, I checked my phone. It was old no camera, no internet, barely more than a relic but that was precisely why I kept it. Calls and texts only. Nothing traceable. Perfect.
The only downside was topping it up. Finding places that still catered to phones like this was a nightmare. I usually had to visit a traditional newsagent in the nearest town when it became unavoidable.
I checked for messages.
Nothing.
Still no word from my father. This was the longest stretch we’d ever gone without speaking. We’d been angry both of us stubborn in our own ways but he was still my dad. He’d been there when Mum died so suddenly, when I was only twelve years old. No matter what stood between us now, that bond didn’t just disappear.
Leaving the bathroom, I stepped into the narrow corridor and then it hit me.
Pain exploded through my stomach, sharp and brutal, forcing me to double over. I gripped the plastic-lined walls, my breath catching as the stabbing sensation ripped through me with such intensity I nearly screamed.
I knew exactly what it was.
And it wasn’t the first time.
Clenching my teeth, I forced myself to move, dragging my body toward my backpack always packed, always ready stored beneath the kitchen sink. It stayed there by design. Safe, but within reach. If I needed to disappear at a moment’s notice, I could.
Nothing in my life was permanent anymore. I doubted it ever would be.
And that was fine. I could live with it.
I hadn’t been the same person since Mum died when I was twelve. And I certainly wasn’t the same person I’d been before I came here six months ago.
Digging through the backpack, I found the small container and my heart dropped.
Empty.
No.
That couldn’t be right.
I tore through the bag, flinging clothes aside, shoving cash out of the way, my hands frantic as I searched every corner. I prayed some might have slipped to the bottom.
Nothing.
“Shit.”
My fingers flew across the keypad as I sent a hurried text to the only number saved.
I need more…
It was early too early but desperation overruled common sense.
A knock sounded at the door.
Instinct kicked in immediately. I locked the phone and shoved it into my coat pocket.
So far, I’d done a decent job of staying off the radar. Though I’d cursed myself the moment the farmer asked my name on my first day and I’d given it without thinking to use an alias. Still, in six months, almost no one had ventured this far. And only humans worked the land.
The caravan door swung open before I could answer.
Impatient as ever.
Knowing him, he was probably hoping to crawl into bed and wake me that way. It wouldn’t have been the first time. He strode in like the place belonged to him, as if he didn’t already have his own designated spot. Completely oblivious to social boundaries or perhaps just uninterested in them.
I’d grown used to his oddities by now. Learned to laugh them off.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, fixing him with a pointed look.