(Elara’s POV)
I woke without confusion.
That was the first thing that unsettled me.
No pounding head. No spinning room. No disoriented panic. Just awareness—sharp, immediate, unwelcome. My eyes opened to a ceiling that wasn’t mine, smooth and pale, lit by a soft recessed glow that felt too deliberate to be accidental. The air smelled clean, faintly citrus, like a place meant to calm rather than contain.
For a moment, I didn’t move.
I let myself breathe, slow and quiet, listening. Silence pressed in from every direction. No traffic hum. No distant voices. No mechanical sounds beyond the soft whisper of air moving through vents. It wasn’t the silence of abandonment. It was the silence of control.
I sat up slowly.
The bed was comfortable. Too comfortable. Crisp sheets, tucked with care
