Emilia awoke with a groan, her head pounding as she blinked against the dim light. Her vision was hazy, the only illumination coming from a small, dust-covered bulb hanging crookedly from the ceiling. The room was cold and damp, with the faint smell of mildew in the air. Wooden beams lined the attic walls, cobwebs stretching between them. An old trunk sat in one corner, and a few crates stacked haphazardly filled the space. It was as if the room had been forgotten by time, a perfect prison.

She struggled against the ropes binding her wrists and ankles. They were tight, the coarse fibers biting into her skin with every...