Before dawn outside León in 1532, Sabine walked away from León, Andrés, and the life of María, feeling unnaturally awake after a sleepless night. As the sun rose, profound sickness overtook her: fatigue, chills, and a visceral wrongness that intensified with daylight. She tried to eat an unripe apple but found it rancid and vomited, confirming that ordinary food now repelled her.

With the sun climbing and fields offering no cover, Sabine sought refuge in a shabby barn. Inside, the shade eased her illness, though shafts of light still made her feel unwell. A braying donkey agitated her, but she restrained her violent impulse and released the animal, then collapsed into a dark pen and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She woke abruptly to a farmer prodding her with a pitchfork, a tethered donkey in hand, and no fear in his demeanor despite her bloodstained dress. Sensing his predatory appraisal and entitlement, Sabine chose not to feign helplessness. She fixed his gaze, tested her new voice’s hypnotic pull, and questioned him about his wife and marriage, reading his desire and dominance.

When the farmer grabbed her, Sabine slammed him into the gate and bit deep into his throat. He struck her with the pitchfork, the tines piercing her side, but she felt little pain compared to the vitality flooding her as she drank. The farmer died; she remained standing. Examining the wound, she tasted the dark, ashy residue on the tines reminiscent of the widow and watched her flesh knit itself seamlessly.

Despite feeding, daylight still made her dizzy and sick. She waited until dusk, braiding her hair while the sun went down, and then stepped outside, feeling immediate relief as night fell. Spotting a lit farmhouse, she approached, but an unseen force stopped her at the open doorway, revealing a new rule: she could not enter without invitation.

When the farmer’s wife appeared, Sabine assessed her and devised a ruse. Claiming to have been robbed, she offered her ruby necklace as a reward and let vulnerability show. The wife, concerned and tempted, invited her in. With the spoken invitation, the barrier fell, and Sabine crossed the threshold, closed the door, and coolly noted that the blood on her was mostly not her own.