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Escape Attempt (1)

Clara’s head was an aching mess. The last thing she remembered was being knocked out by an excruciating pain her body couldn’t tolerate and the panic-filled eyes of Alistair as he ran to her.

Peeling her eyes open, she woke up in the most lavish and beautifully decorated bedroom she’d ever seen, momentarily confused by all the dainty, pretty things.

“Where am I?” she whispered, then coughed. And the sound of her voice made her heart stop its beat.

Her voice didn’t sound like her. It used to be like melting honey; however, the voice she just heard from her throat was heavy and a little sharp.

She roamed her eyes at the strange setting before her, hitting every color of the pink spectrum. The rosy accent walls were punched with gold leaf patterns. A strong scent of wild rose in the air was too much for her liking, a stark contrast of her favorite vanilla fragrance.

Clara propped her elbows with a low grunt, hoisting her body up in a sitting position. She tried to will her body to adjust
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