Claire slowly opened her eyes and struggled to sit up. The spot next to her was already empty.
Ignoring the ache in her legs, she made her way to the bathroom. As she stood at the sink, she noticed a pair of matching toothbrush cups—one black, one white—each with a string of letters on them. Even the toothbrushes inside were identical.
The towels hanging nearby were also a matching set, embroidered with the same initials. Claire paused, momentarily taken aback. She thought, 'Are these things prepared specifically for me?'
But she quickly brushed off the thought, thinking, 'How could that be? They are probably just standard items for any woman who stays here.'
She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw the faint marks on her neck, evidence of the previous night. She sniffed ligh
