The next morning, I woke up in a single bed with thin covers and blanket that explains why I've been shivering and the goosebumps that formed on my arms. I'm surprised to see that they have not sent me to the dungeon as the room I'm in looks more decent but empty and spacious despite the small space.
There's only one single bed on the left side, an empty bookshelf with a marble vase holding a limp plant, and a wooden-rounded table with two chairs. The walls are a flat color of gray, with visible cracks running through some parts. The tiled floor as I tried to touch with my barefoot is as cold as stepping on a block of ice.
A window in the center of the room, rectangle in shape with bars preventing my escape, is above the wall, only a few inches from the ceiling. It's beyond my reach, above the bookshelf, making it difficult to see what's outside.
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