“come here, dahlia.” she coos out to you as she puts white powder on her face.

“my little raincloud?” she beckons again, louder this time, until she got fed up with waiting, snapping her fingers and there you appeared.

you were tied up in a chair with tape on your mouth, making the older woman smile wickedly, taking the tape off with a swipe of her finger.

“now you know to listen the first time, ivy.”