Karen's Pov....
A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind Karen's eyes, a relentless rhythm accompanying the dry, metallic taste that coated her tongue. She stirred, slowly, reluctantly, fighting against a thick, confusing blanket of unconsciousness. What time was it? Where was she? Disorientation, sharp and disquieting, clawed at her. She tried to remember yesterday, but her mind felt like a fuzzy, spinning top. The more she pushed, the more her head protested with a dizzying whirl.
But first things first: this was definitely not her room. The intricate designs on the wallpaper, the sheer spaciousness, the heavy, opulent furniture – everything about this room screamed wealth and unfamiliarity. Where the hell am I? The question, unspoken, screamed in her head. What really happened yesterday? She asked herself this countless times within a single minute, yet no answer surfaced from the fog. She longed to relax her mind, to allow the memories to surface gently, but how could she when she was in a strange room, in a place she knew nothing about?
A chilling thought struck her: What if someone kidnapped me and brought me here yesterday? Just that idea alone made her survival instinct kick in with a jolt. What if the person had taken advantage of her sexually, exploiting her unconscious state? That terrifying notion instantly snapped her to the most crucial task: checking herself, frantically, to ensure she hadn't been assaulted. A profound sigh of relief escaped her lips; thankfully, nothing had happened. She was physically unharmed.
Now, back to the questions. Was I kidnapped? Could the person still be in the room? What if he is? Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through her, a terror she hadn't felt in a very long while. That thought alone made her jolt out of the luxurious bed and move swiftly towards the door. She tried the handle; it turned, and the door was unlocked. Another wave of relief, potent and immediate, washed over her. She didn't even bother checking the room to see if she was alone or not. Clutching her bag tightly, she headed straight out of the room.
Upon getting out, the surroundings confirmed her fears – this was certainly not a home. The hushed elegance, the muted lighting, the distant clinking of glasses. Her eyes scanned the environment, landing on an inscription boldly written on the wall: King's Golf House..
Wait a minute. Her mind tried to piece it together. How did I end up here? In a Golf House, which is basically known to house only men, or at least a very exclusive, male-dominated clientele. How did I even get here in the first place?
Turning around, she spotted a familiar plush couch in the lounge area, and like a dam breaking, memories of yesterday came flooding back. The hospital. Her mother. The doctor's words. Jenny. And then, the last thing she distinctly remembered: sitting on that very couch, drinking, desperately trying to drown out the pain. She didn't know what happened after that, just a sudden, overwhelming feeling of a hand wrapped around her, pulling her into darkness.
"Mom… Mom is in the hospital!" The realization hit her like a physical blow. "Jason! I didn't go home to him yesterday! I left my brother alone!" And Jenny! She had left Jenny alone in the hospital whilst she was talking to the doctor. Guilt, sharp and suffocating, seized her.
"My phone, where's my phone?" Frantically, she checked her bag and found it. She quickly powered it on and saw many missed calls from both Jenny and Jason. Her heart pounded harder. She immediately called Jason, but he didn't pick up. Next, she called Jenny, who answered on the first ring, her voice tight with worry.
"Hey girl, where the hell are you? Jason is worried sick about you!" Jenny's voice was a torrent of relief and frustration.
"I am very sorry," Karen stammered, tears pricking her eyes. "Are you with him?"
"Yeah, I came here straight, hoping I would find you home since you left without saying anything. When I came here, you weren't around. I saw Jason in front of your house, so I had to take him back inside and stayed over for the night."
"Thank you so much, Jenny," Karen choked out, relief warring with profound shame. "I'll tell you everything that happened after I get back."
"Okay, take care of yourself," Jenny replied, still sounding strained.
"Sure." Karen hung up, her mind now racing with a renewed urgency. She needed to get home ASAP. But she also needed to know what happened after she passed out yesterday. Who brought her to the room?
She walked towards the reception desk, where a different bartender was now on duty. "Hello, Sir," she addressed him, trying to sound calm.
"Hi, how may I help you?" he replied politely.
"Please, I would like to ask you a question if you don't mind."
"Sure, go ahead."
"Did you see the person who carried me to the room last night?"
The bartender looked apologetic. "Um, sorry, Ma'am, but I didn't. I was not on shift last night. But I was told you were an important guest."
"Important guest?" Karen frowned."Who said that?
" The manager in charge of this place."
"Is he around at the moment?" she pressed.
"No, he is not."
"Okay, what about your colleagues who were here last night?"
"No, they're not. They'll come around in the evening."
"Okay, thank you." Karen's shoulders slumped in frustration.
"You're welcome."
Now I have to go and come back in the evening. The thought was maddening, but she had no other choice. She walked out of the Golf House, stepping into the glaring daylight, and hailed a cab home, her mind a whirl of guilt, confusion, and a new, burning curiosity.