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Elaina Basset

Blurriness.

That's all I felt—that's all I could see. My imagination was a mosaic of fuzzy shapes and sounds.

"How is she still not awake?"

A familiar voice rings in my head, making my brows pull together as my consciousness begins to shift from blurred nothingness to clearer understanding.

"We should have brought her to a doctor—"

"And what the fuck would we tell them, Zayn?"

That's Harry's voice, he's speaking to Zayn—who is supposed to be in the hospital.

"She's fucking unconscious!"

"You think I knew she was gonna pass out?"

My eyes flutter open as the banter wakes me up fully. I still haven't fully processed anything. I'm not sure why I'm hearing Zayn's voice, or why I was unconscious.

I feel tightness in my arms and around my wrists. When I pull at them, I feel cold metal around them restricting me from having use of my hands. Handcuffs.

Why am I in handcuffs?

At this point, I realize that I'm sitting on something —like a kitchen chair—and my hands are cuffed behind my back.

The last thing my foggy memory can recall is seeing's Zayn's face right before everything went black.

But why did I see Zayn? Why was he out of the hospital?

Harry.

I was following Harry. I followed him to the art gallery. I saw Angela. I saw the guys. I caught them in the act of something I'm assuming was illegal.

Oh my god, they're gonna kill me.

I lift my head up, my eyes fully fluttering open to see where I am.

Cream coloured walls and nice furniture. I'm in the kitchen of Harry's villa.

I'm handcuffed to a chair in Harry's house.

Harry's eyes suddenly snap to me, seeing that I was awake and alert now. The second we make eye contact, my heart beat becomes quick and uneven as my veins flood with panic.

"Morning, Picasso." Harry remarks, causing Zayn to look at me as well.

"El—"

Zayn tries to approach me but I immediately lean back in my chair in a helpless attempt to get away. "Don't!" I shout.

Zayn's face falls when he sees my reaction to him, looking at me with parted lips and saddened eyes.

"What is this!" I yell with fear. I just woke up chained to a chair with one of my closest friends in front of me, I'm panicked and scared.

"Elaina, just try to relax—"

"Don't tell me to relax!" I spit, jolting against the cuffs so hard that it hurt. "Why am I cuffed up here!"

"You passed out and we brought you here." Zayn tells me, while Harry leans against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. "The cuffs are just a precaution."

A precaution? A fucking precaution—are you kidding me?

"Unlock me." I say as sternly as I can.

I need to get out of here. These people are bad. Zayn. Angela. Harry. All of them. Right now, I can only see Zayn and Harry in here with me. I don't know where the others are.

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