Edward woke to the familiar ache. His wrists burned where the cuffs bit into his skin, and his shoulders throbbed from being held in the same position for too long. The room came into focus slowly, pale walls, dim lights, the steady hum of machines somewhere outside that he no longer bothered trying to identify.

Time had become a fluid, hazy thing, marked only by the occasional appearance of the maid who gave him silent sponge baths. He remembered the feeling of wet cloth on his skin and the ...