Ivy’s POV
The world was dark when I opened my eyes. At first, I thought I was dreaming—a bad one. The kind where your limbs are heavy, your throat dry, and the air feels too cold to breathe. But then the sharp pain in my wrists pulled me back to reality.
I was tied.
My arms were behind me, bound so tightly I couldn’t feel my fingers. My ankles were tied too, and something rough and itchy dug into my skin. Rope. I was sitting on the cold, wooden floor of a dim room, lit only by a single bulb that flickered overhead. The walls were cracked and stained. The air smelled like mold, smoke, and old wood.
This wasn’t a dream.
My heart began to race.
I tried to shift, to wiggle free, but every movement made the ropes cut deeper. My chest rose and fell quickly. I looked around as best I could.
