She woke sheened by perspiration, disoriented, the nightmare vivid, her mouth lined with cotton wool. Bright yellow light streamed in, the breeze through the open window an allusion only of coolness. She was in her childhood bedroom. Frowning, she stared at the ceiling. God, what rotten bloody nights. She closed her eyes and tried swallowing. Walter's scared face was painted on the inside of her lids. They flew open and she jolted up. She had been there, it hadn't been a dream. An ache ballooned and swelled down to her fingertips. Two pinpricks of dried blood dotted her inner elbow. Numbness replaced the ache and she flexed. Nick had tried to have her killed. William had come to save her and now she was still alive, still having to cope. She should now be in Melbourne, waiting for him. Waiting for him to come and say she was safe. Waiting for him to come and marry her. She spun away from the thought.