The following morning, I slowly stretch my limbs, blinking against the morning light filtering through the window. My curiosity piqued, I squint my eyes at the door, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever Beatrice is speaking to. However, before I can discern their identity, she closes the door and approaches me with a bottle of pills in her hand.

"Good morning," I greet with a yawn, covering my mouth with my hand as I sit up.

"Here you go," Beatrice says, placing a pill in my ...