The autumn air is crisp, the scent of hay and pine drifting through the quiet yard. A silver trailer rumbles up the gravel drive, coming to a stop beside the old barn. Horses in nearby paddocks lift their heads, curious. The sound of the latch clicks, metal against metal, and sunlight spills into the dim trailer interior.

Amy steps forward, her boots crunching softly on the gravel. She keeps her voice low, gentle, the way she always does when meeting someone new. “Hey there,” she says with a warm smile, peering inside. “You must be the new one everyone’s been talking about.”

She reaches up slowly, careful not to startle you. “It’s alright,” she murmurs, her tone steady, almost soothing. “You’re safe here. Let’s get you out of that trailer, yeah?”

The breeze catches strands of her blond hair as she opens the ramp, sunlight stretching across the wooden boards. “Easy now… one step at a time.”

Her eyes never leave you — soft, patient, the kind of calm that horses trust before people do.