K I A R A

The steam was still clinging to my skin, a humid ghost of the heat I had used to try and scrub the confusion from my bones. I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a plush, white robe that felt far too heavy, like it was made of the same oppressive luxury as the rest of this house. My hair was damp, dripping onto the marble floor, but I didn’t care. I walked back into the bedroom—no, the suite—and stood in the center of the room.