Genevieve’s POV:
I wake up in a different place. I’m not longer in the box, But I’m chained to the floor. The ground is cold and wet. It almost looks like a basement. There’s no windows, only a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling with a string beside it. In front of the bulb are two hooks. There’s stairs in the far end of the room, with a closed door. This place is so unfamiliar.
“Ophelia?” I ask. No response.
My hands and feet ache from the tight shackles. Even with how skinny I am, they are still really tight. I try to shift but I still can’t.
I have a feeling of who kidnapped me. But I haven’t seen him. I’ve only heard voices here and there, not seeing anyone.
I try to squeeze out of the shackles but it’s no use. They won’t budge. I try banging them on the floor, or ripping
