Jenna was running. She'd started off running three weeks earlier, from a less than stellar boyfriend who had decided to push what she had told him was a deal breaker... and he'd pushed it hard with the back of his hand. The final straw, then, had been her family's response to her split lip and rising bruise. If one couldn't count on family to help hold the line, then what was left there? If she couldn't stand on that one unyielding point, that she was never going to be with a man who hit her, where could she stand? And what use was a family who told her to give ground on this?

Running from home, from Kamloops, had brought her southeast. She would have, at that point, been happier to have been heading northeast, towards Edmonton. Now, she thanked whatever passed for a guardian angel that she had preferred to hop the truck driven by a woman...and pass up the one with the guy who set off all of her internal alarm bells. Alma was heading across the border, eventually, and that was something Jenna couldn't do... she'd never had a passport, nor any real desire for one, until the idea of going with the truck into the US popped up. But by then, it was all too late, so Alma had let Jenna off at Vernon, popping her a wide smile and giving her a concerned litany of be carefuls to go along with it. From there, Jenna had turned her eye towards Silver Star's big resort...those places always had just the kind of jobs that Jenna had experience in. They always needed housekeepers, waitresses, bussers, the service jobs that kept a heavily tourist economy going. So she hadn't gotten very far away from Kamloops, away from Mitch, away from her family, and her dead end life... about two hundred kilometers, but she was still far. And in a place she didn't think anybody would be looking for her at. And she had headed north, accepting a thankfully short ride north of Vernon, dropped off at the entrance to the Provincial Park that led the way towards the resort. She had felt unlucky, downtrodden, put upon... it wasn't entirely warm yet, and it definitely seemed like she was going to be roughing it that night. She chuckled bitterly at the memory, she had done more than rough it. That had been the night that they came, and only the fact that Jenna was alone, in a giant forest, had saved her. Up until then, her running had been figurative...at that moment, it became literal.

She wasn't even sure how long she'd been running, it had all sort of hazed together. All she knew was that she had to keep going, keep hiding, and stay away from other people.

"I'm tired, Papa." She breathed, hiding her face in the cave made by her thighs, her arms. "So bloody damn tired." And cold, she couldn't forget that. Wet, too. Hungry. And utterly and completely terrified. She was deep in the heart of Okanagan Valley, somewhere, and not even the glorious view that surrounded her could shift her from the dismal horror in her soul.

"I need to find a place." She muttered, rubbing her nose against her sleeve. She was smart, but right now, it was all she could do to string a simple thought together, much less act upon it. "Go to ground. Wait this out."

Funny. That made it seem like there was a chance. Maybe those who had been in Kamloops to see...whatever this was...firsthand were the lucky ones. Facing...

That was part of the problem. Jenna didn't even comprehend what it was she was facing. "You can't stay under this tree forever."

Why not?

Why not? Because she hadn't run this far, and this long, to just give up under a tree. She pulled herself slowly to her feet, shifting her pack, and staring warily around. It was going to rain, and it was going to be too dark to move soon. She nodded, walking slowly down the grade, minding her footing. All she needed to completely destroy her chances of survival was an injury... a broken ankle, a tumble, and it could all be over, just like that.

She ran into the house just as twilight was falling, and she stared at it hungrily. Somebody's fancy vacation home...there were a lot of them out here, and this was a nice example of one. She loved the cedar shingles, the expansive porch, the view down to the misty orchard below.

Careful.

She walked around it, studying the grass. It was long, it hadn't been cut in ages. There were no trails in it. The water on it was undisturbed. It just felt as empty as she did out here.

"Fuck it all." She muttered, checking out the doors. All locked, of course. Only a fool would leave a house like this unsecured. But Jenna knew people who weren't as...honest...as she tended to be. It had been a challenge to learn from them, even if she thought she had no use for the dubious skills that they had taught her. It took her a long few moments, she was rusty, and her hands trembled, but finally one of the doors popped open. A rush of stale air flowed past her, and she froze, listening.

Nothing. Still...nothing.

She stepped into the house, a bundle of fraying nerves. The room was lovely, so perfect... A wide span under heavy beams, a cobblestone fireplace, wide plank floors.

Jenna was suddenly exhausted, and had to force herself to search every corner, every inch, every nook and cranny. Nothing. She breathed a slow sigh of relief, taking stock. Four bedrooms. Two belonged to the family, she realized. The master, of course. And the second largest of the bedrooms probably belonged to a boy...or a young man, it was hard to tell. Old enough to where most of the juvenile things had been removed, but there were the stubborn remnants of a childhood left behind. Spaceship models... Jenna barely glanced at them. Hockey skates hanging from the closet door knob, the stick in the corner. The room was trying too hard to be completely grown up, a dark blue plaid comforter covered the bed, everything had been perfectly in order when it had been left. "Sorry." She breathed, closing the door behind her and making her way to the best of the two generic guest rooms.

She was going to sleep...and sleep. She had to.