ISABELLE
Milka walks hesitantly closer and I indicate to her that I need her even closer. When she reaches arm's length she stops and continues looking at my wounds. I can tell she is on the verge of tears.
I have decided that I will trust her to get me the ring. I know, at least my instincts tell me, that she is not the type that will take my ring and run away with it. She looks motherly, and she is genuinely concerned with my plight. I have seen her fighting tears after seeing me in my condition and she even offered to escape with me but she warned me of the risk involved. It's Milka who told me about the presence of guards everywhere. I need her to help me now.
“Milka I want to get out of here. I want to have my wounds heal." I say to her with the little energy I have. Our eyes meet,
