Sophie opened her eyes. Or rather, she tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were heavy and seemed to be glued together. She wondered how long she had slept.
When she managed to pry her eyelids open, she was momentarily blinded by the light. She had a headache, a dull pain that radiated from the base of her neck to her temples.
When she became accustomed to the light, she looked around. She was in a small room with battered, old-fashioned furniture. The bed where she lay appeared to be made of wood, and there were woollen blankets on it.
The pale yellow paint on the walls was peeling and criss-crossed by many cracks.
One side of the room was occupied by a fireplace with a burning fire, in which Sophie, amazed, noticed pieces of real wood.
It was very hot, but the room remained damp and she could feel a slight layer of condensation on her pillow.
Where the hell was she? And what had happened to Emma?