3. Ouch. Lana moaned softly as she woke up with a pounding headache. Her mouth felt dry like the Martian desert. She opened her eyes to a crack before shutting them again to avoid being blinded by an overhead light. Where was she? “She’s awake,” a male voice said. “Give her some water,” another man said. When someone put a cup to her lips, Lana scrambled up and eagerly gulped down the water, her eyes still closed. Only when the light above her head was dimmed did she risk opening her eyes again. The dark-haired man who’d sedated her before was sitting on the edge of the bed she was lying on, refilling her cup with water from a bottle. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” he said glibly, handing her more water. “Enjoyed your little nap?” Lana licked her lips. “Where am I?” He smiled in cruel amusement. “That’s the million-pound question, isn’t it?” he replied. “Or rubles, in your case.” With bleary eyes she looked around the room. There wasn’t much to go on: the curtains were drawn, the walls were undecorated, and the only piece of furniture that the room seemed to contain was the bed they were sitting on.
