The morning after felt like a dream I wasn’t supposed to wake from. Or maybe it was a nightmare—I still couldn’t decide. All I knew was that when my eyes opened, the silk sheets whispering against my skin belonged to a life that wasn’t mine. This wasn’t my room. This wasn’t my life.

For a long while I sat frozen, staring at the walls. Smooth, modern, elegant. Not a single crack in sight. The faint scent of expensive cologne clung to the air, subtle but overwhelming, and it dragged ...