Looking up meekly at the sun shining through a grimy window, Ava realized she was in a cellar, somewhere, but she did not know where. What she did know is that she woke a day earlier, handcuffed to the rusty iron radiator that was anchored to the basement wall, but for how long she could not tell. For the entire next day, her screams for help went unheeded, as she sat on the cold basement floor, not only famished and dehydrated, but also mostly exposed and petrified. Adjusting the petite negligée she wore, she attempted to shield her expose skin from touching the frigid cement floor in an attempt to remain warm. All the while her left hand remained intractably cuffed to the radiator a little over a half meter off the ground. Incapable of
