SERAPHINA’S POV

The next time I’m conscious, I’m waking up in a room similar to mine but different in so many ways.

The amount of pink lights and glitter and paint is enough to make anyone barf their breakfast out, and yet it’s recognizable.

But how did I get here?

Memories of the last few seconds before I passed out fill my mind, and I sit up too fast, being hit with so much realization at once.

The pain in my back stabs the second I stand faster than I should have, and I suck in ...