The next time Violet woke, she was startled by the glare of sunlight hitting her closed eyelids. Her brow furrowed as she raised her hand to block the rays, squinting slightly before sitting up to take in her surroundings. The room was nothing like the dark, damp cell she'd been confined in. Instead, it was lavish, with soft curtains framing large windows and furniture polished to a gleam.
Her gaze fell to her clothes, and she froze. She was no longer in her tattered attire. Instead, she wore a pristine uniform, its fabric crisp as if freshly laundered and ironed. For a moment, Violet stared blankly at herself, confusion swirling in her mind. The realization that someone had changed her clothes struck her like a bolt.
Scrambling out of bed, she bolted into her own room and adjoining bathroom. Her bare feet slapped against the tiled floor as she rushed to the mirror, her heart pounding with dread. Cain's chilling words about her being his "whore" echoed in her mind.
