~Ioana~
My hands slid across the smooth satin bedsheets, coming back to myself. My fingers fiddled with the ridiculously thin straps of the scandalous nightwear, which slipped off my shoulders every second, its harlot red contrasting against my skin.
The room was familiar, yet at the same time, odd. It bore a striking similarity to the one I was in last time, except it held a softness—a warmth the other didn't.
I don't know exactly how I got here.
I could remember faintly how it started.
It was hours ago.
One moment, I was still curled in on myself, resting my head on my knees, fighting against the chill and the darkness that seeped deep into my bones, teeth rattling in response.
And the next moment, the door swung open. A stern-faced guard barked, "Get up," grabbing me by the arm,
