Chapter 19

The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the narrow road as they made their way toward Simon's contact. Miel felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her, but the fear that had been riding shotgun in her mind all night kept her awake, her senses sharp. 

Jasmine's hand rested on her knee, a quiet presence beside her. Neither of them had said much since leaving the gas station. The near-encounter with the car had rattled them both, but they didn't have the luxury of letting it show. They were too close to something—whether it was freedom or disaster, Miel wasn't sure yet. 

Simon's directions had led them down a series of twisting, backcountry roads, each one narrower and more isolated than the last. The town they had just passed had been barely a speck on the map, more of a memory than a destination, and the place they were headed seemed even less real. 

"Keep going for another mile," Simon said from the backseat, his voice calm but with an edge that Miel had come to recognize. He was always looking over his shoulder, always ready for the worst. He'd been through this before, and Miel knew better than to ignore his instincts.

Nina sat beside Simon, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. Her face was as unreadable as ever, but Miel could see the tightness in her jaw, the way her hands fidgeted with the straps of the duffel bag of money. Even Nina, who was usually steady and in control, seemed rattled by how close they had come to being caught. 

Maxwell was curled up at Nina's feet, his ears twitching every so often, picking up the faint sounds of the forest around them. The dog seemed unusually quiet, sensing the tension that had gripped everyone in the car.

"Are we almost there?" Jasmine asked quietly, her voice barely breaking the silence. 

"Yeah," Simon replied. "It's just up ahead. You'll see the house soon."

Miel's stomach twisted in anticipation. She didn't trust Simon, not completely, but they had no choice. He was their best shot at getting out of this mess. 

The road curved sharply to the left, and suddenly, a small, weathered cabin came into view. It was hidden deep within the trees, almost invisible if you weren't looking for it. The place was small, with peeling paint and a sagging roof, but it looked lived-in, a stark contrast to the rundown places they had passed in the last few hours.

Miel pulled the car up to the cabin, the tires crunching over gravel as they came to a stop. Her hands were shaking slightly as she turned off the engine. She glanced at Jasmine, who gave her a reassuring nod. 

"We're here," Simon said softly, already reaching for the door handle. "Let's not waste any time."

They stepped out of the car, the crisp morning air biting against Miel's skin. Maxwell jumped out behind them, his tail wagging tentatively as he sniffed the air, but even he seemed cautious. 

Simon led the way to the cabin door, knocking twice, then once more after a pause. The sound echoed in the quiet, making Miel's heart race. They waited, the seconds stretching into what felt like hours. 

Then, finally, the door creaked open.

A woman stood in the doorway, her dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She was older than Miel had expected, her face lined with age and experience. She wore an old flannel shirt and faded jeans, and her sharp, watchful eyes took in the group with a single glance. 

"Simon," she said, her voice steady. "You've brought company."

"Yeah," Simon replied, his tone more familiar with her than Miel had ever heard it. "We're in a tight spot, Claire. We could use your help."

Claire's eyes flicked to Miel and Jasmine, then to Nina, her gaze lingering for a moment on the duffel bag Nina carried. Miel could see the wheels turning in her mind, calculating risks and weighing the situation.

After a beat, Claire nodded and stepped aside, allowing them in. "Come inside. Let's talk."

They filed into the cabin, Maxwell trailing behind. The place was small but well-kept, the scent of old wood and pine filling the air. There was a small kitchen off to the side, a cluttered table in the center of the room, and a couch pushed against the far wall. It wasn't much, but it felt safe—or safer than where they'd been.

"Sit down," Claire said, gesturing to the table. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. "So, what's the situation?"

Simon glanced at Miel, silently passing the responsibility to her. Miel hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal, but Claire's no-nonsense demeanor made her think twice about holding back. They needed her help, and that meant being honest.

"We've got heat on us," Miel began, her voice steady despite her nerves. "We pulled off a job, and now we're trying to lay low. The cops are close—too close. We need a place to hide out, at least until we can figure out our next move."

Claire raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Simon. "You've gotten mixed up in some serious business, haven't you?"

Simon shrugged, unbothered. "It's nothing I haven't handled before."

"Right," Claire said, her tone dry. She turned her attention back to Miel. "I can give you a place to stay for a little while, but you'll need to be smart about it. If the cops are as close as you say, it's only a matter of time before they widen their search. You're not safe here forever."

Miel nodded, already feeling the weight of their next move pressing down on her. "We just need a little time."

Claire studied her for a moment longer, then sighed. "Alright. You can stay in the old barn out back. It's not much, but it's off the grid. No one will think to look for you there."

Relief washed over Miel, though it was tempered by the knowledge that their reprieve was temporary. They were still running, still one step ahead of disaster, but at least now they had a place to catch their breath.

"Thank you," Jasmine said quietly, her voice full of gratitude.

Claire gave a curt nod, her gaze softening slightly. "Don't thank me yet. Just stay out of trouble while you're here."

---

The barn was a short walk from the cabin, hidden even deeper within the trees. It was old, the wood weathered and darkened by years of neglect, but it was sturdy. Inside, there was a pile of hay in one corner, a few rusted tools hanging from the walls, and a small loft overhead.

"It's not much, but it'll do," Miel said as she set her bag down on the floor. She looked at Jasmine, who was already spreading out a blanket for them to sleep on. Despite everything, there was a quiet comfort in being together, even in such a rough situation.

Maxwell, ever adaptable, sniffed around the barn before curling up in the hay with a contented sigh. His presence alone was enough to lift Miel's spirits, even if just for a moment.

Jasmine sat down beside her, their shoulders brushing. "Do you think we'll really be safe here?"

Miel leaned her head back against the barn wall, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "I don't know. But it's the best we've got right now."

Jasmine was quiet for a moment, then she reached out and took Miel's hand. "No matter what happens, I'm glad I'm here with you."

Miel opened her eyes and looked at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Me too."

For now, they had a place to hide. But the clock was still ticking, and Miel knew it was only a matter of time before the next storm hit.