Emma POV

I woke to the sound of a kettle.

A soft whistle. Gentle. Ordinary.

For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. My eyes opened to a low ceiling, cream-colored, with a faint crack running across it like a scar. A knitted blanket covered me up to my shoulders. My body still ached, but the pain was quieter now. Duller.

Then it came back.

Everything.

My breath hitched. My hand flew to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of the nightdress I’d been changed into. It wasn’t mine. ...