The first thing that Edward noticed about the cell in which he so abruptly found himself was that he wasn’t alone. There was another occupant of the cell, and from the looks of her she’d been there for a long time. She was dirty, and her hair was ratty, and it seemed—yes, in fact it was confirmed now, upon closer inspection—that she was missing an eye. Only the sunken socket remained, covered now by a slumbering eyelid.
The second thing that Edward noticed about his cell was that it was drafty, there was a rat in the corner who seemed to be experimenting with new ways to gnaw on straw and what looked disturbingly like someone’s finger, he had a window that viewed the night sky and little else, and (most importantly) he hadn’t the foggiest idea of what he was doing there. Cells were not, by and large, the sort of thing that Edward wound up in, although he realized that his inability to recall the night before could hold the secret to his imprisonment.
“I think I’m in trouble.”