Aria stirred with a groan, her limbs sluggish and unresponsive. Her throat burned with dryness, and the pounding in her skull made it difficult to think, let alone remember how she got here. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking away the haze.
The sheets were silk—cool, too many layers, too clean. She shifted, but her muscles felt like lead, her fingers numb as if the very air in the room had been laced with something that dulled her senses. She tried to sit up, but the effort felt monumental.
Concrete walls surrounded her, painted in cold grays with smooth, unblemished surfaces. There was a single window near the ceiling—high, narrow, and clearly out of reach. Soft lighting hummed faintly above, casting the room in a muted glow. There were no visible cameras, no wires. Just a chair by the d
