On a perfect morning, Patricia woke up feeling unusually energetic, restless, even excited at the thought of getting back to work. Sitting up, she stretched with a soft yawn, her arms reaching toward the ceiling as her eyes slowly fluttered open to soak in the morning light.
But something didn't feel right.
She blinked, her smile fading as she looked around. The room wasn't familiar. Her brows furrowed, and a sense of unease crept over her. Was she still dreaming? Shaking her head, she closed her eyes tightly, slapped her cheeks twice, and opened them again.
Still the same room.
Panic seized her chest. Was she kidnapped? That thought alone jolted her upright as she scanned her surroundings in alarm. But the space was… luxurious. Expansive. Feminine. There were beauty essentials scattered neatly across the vanity, and at the far end, a wardrobe sat half-open, one of her nightgowns hanging inside.
Her nightgown?
