I woke up sitting upright on a couch in someone's living room.
I only vaguely remember Elizabeth's lackey inject me in the arm with some of the liquid in his syringe, and then he told me that I'll only sleep for a short while.
I don't know how long I've been asleep, nor where I was.
Panic rose from the bottom of my stomach and I checked if I was tied up. But luckily I wasn't. I wasn't hurt either.
It seems that Elizabeth valued Danté's alliance more than I thought.
I sat up to take in my surroundings, despite the fatigue making my body heavy.
The room had a small television in front of a sofa and two armchairs. They looked old; the fabric was faded and even torn at some edges.
There weren't many windows in the room, only two small ones with dark curtains drawn to keep others from looking inside. The only light in the room came from a small table lamp on an end table next to the arm chair I was seated in.
