I didn’t have any time to waste, so I took a few sharp breaths and ran straight up the middle of the field, wincing at the pain in my feet.

Glancing back, I saw with horror that the bull had turned around and was staring at me. One hoof scuffed the ground. With a frantic gasp, terrified it was about to charge, I lunged forward and threw myself through the middle section of a different kind of fence, crying out as it electrocuted me. Needles of pain stabbed all over my hands and arms from where I’d made contact with the wire, reminding me of the time Mother had electrocuted herself changing a lightbulb.

I thudded to the ground and exhaled heavily. I was on the other side of the fence, safe from the bull. That was what mattered. I glanced back to see the bull nosing around in the grass, acting like I didn’t exist.

I scrambled to my feet and limped through the last field, relieved to find the stabbing pains in my arms and hands gone after a few seconds, and happy to see that this field held nothing but sheep and lambs, who all skittered away when I approached.

And there it was: a red-brick building. A very big house by the look of it. An expensive, well looked after house. A house that was completely different to the one I’d come from. Did that mean the owner would be completely different? Despite everything, hope flared in my chest. I was so tired, so in need of rest. My feet were in shreds and I could barely walk another step. I felt tears sting my eyes; this could be the end of it all. The pain and fear and danger could finally be over.

But I had to be careful. A shiny black car sat parked on a white, stony drive facing the front of the house. On the other side of the car was a big patch of grass with a white horse standing in the centre. The horse was watching me. Its musty smell wafted in my direction on the warm breeze. I’d seen pictures of horses, but in real life the animal took my breath away. There was something so strong and sturdy yet fine about its body that made me want to keep looking at it, but I couldn’t. I wondered if there ever would be a good time to take in all the things out here that I’d missed. I really hoped so. But more than that – more than anything – I wanted to see my parents.

My breath hitched as a series of sickening questions attacked – were they still alive? Would they remember me? What if they’d moved on with their lives and forgotten all about me?