EZEKIEL
When I wake, the first thing I feel is coarse rope biting into my wrists. My head pounds as though it's been split open. For a moment, the world is a blur of bright light and ringing silence, and I can't remember where I am, or how I got here. Not until the scent of lavender and citrus brushes my nose, dragging me back to reality, do I realize I'm still in Daphne's house.
I blink hard, my vision slowly adjusting to the bright room. I'm sitting on the floor, my back pressed against the edge of the couch. My arms are wrenched behind me, wrists locked in cold rope, my ankles lashed tight. The bracelet on my wrist glows faintly, one of the beads already dim.
And then I see her. Daphne sits on the edge of the coffee table directly across from me. Her legs are crossed, her arms folde
