SYLVIAI woke up feeling groggy. My eyes felt tired, and my vision was a bit blurry as it slowly came into focus. My mouth was dry, and my lips were chapped. My entire body shook from being cold, too. When my eyes finally adjusted, I looked around, wondering where I was.The ceiling above me was wooden, old, with cracks running through the beams. It took me a second to place it.The cottage.I was back in the cottage, except this time it was warmer, a fire crackling somewhere out of sight, and I wasn't on the floor anymore. I was on a bed.I tried to sit up, but as I moved, my hands hurt. I winced, looking at them to notice that I was tied up again and my wrists were already sporting marks and specs of dried blood from the harsh texture of the rope. It was tied to the headboard so tightly I could barely move my hands at all.I yanked against the restraints, feeling fear rise in my throat, but they didn't give way. "No, no, no," I whispered, pulling harder, ignoring the way the rope
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