Chapter 68: Maxine

**Thelma Zane’s POV** I opened my eyes after what felt like an eternity. The night outside was pitch black, with the only light in my room coming from the flickering flames of countless candles. Their soft glow painted the walls in a dance of shadows. A peculiar aroma lingered in the air—sweet yet bitter, a scent that suggested some kind of herb had been added to the candle wax. My throat burned as I attempted to speak. “Is there anyone—” I stopped mid-sentence, startled by how raspy my voice sounded. It was hoarse, like the creak of a rusty hinge. I reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and took a small sip, letting the cool liquid soothe my throat. Even that slight movement drained what little energy I had, forcing me to lie back down. “You awake?” The cold, detached voice of a woman startled me. I froze, scanning the room for the source. But there was no one. “Don’t bother looking around, little fool,” the voice continued, its tone laced with impat