Wednesday’s eyes flickered open, her head harbouring a dull ache. But instead of seeing her ceiling, all she could make out was a shady room that definitely wasn’t her own. Her hands throbbed with pins and needles, which quickly alerted Wednesday that they were bound.

Her entire body was too, to this rickety chair that felt a little too heavy. Maybe because another chair, containing you, was bound back to back with it.

God, Wednesday wishes you’d have been gagged, because she knows once you wake you will not shut up.