I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the dim golden light filtering through crystal chandeliers above. My head ached, my arms felt heavy, and a strange scent—some expensive cologne or perfume—hung in the air.
The ceiling looked high and polished, and when I pushed myself up on the velvet mattress, I realized this wasn’t just any room. It was fancy. No, not just fancy—expensive. Marble floors, gold-lined curtains, a plasma TV mounted on the opposite wall, a long grey couch, and a glass table sat in front of it. Two closed doors stood to the right.
“Where am I?” I whispered, my voice dry and cracking.
I turned to the left, hoping this was some twisted dream, my bare feet sinking into the thick rug as I stood. That’s when I noticed a photo on the wall. My breath caught in my throat.
