The last thing Isolde remembered was the scorching flesh on her shoulder, the scent spiraling upward as the cigarette was pressed against her tender white skin. The last had been one injury too many and had she known anything of use to the Nazis would have enticed her to spill her guts. The only guts that had been spilled were the content of her stomach on the General’s shoes.<br/>She had passed out and vaguely had memory of being yanked about, then dropped into an icy puddle, where she did not know. Warm hands had pressed against her limp body and a sensation of floating followed. Now she was weightless, floating in a feather bed with those warm hands caressing her damaged body. She heard the murmured voice of a man encouraging her to be well and reassuring her of her safety. Isolde slept.<br/>In her sleep, Isolde saw a man, man or angel or demon, she didn’t know. Was he real or part of her dreams? Dreams filled with blood and bondage and something elusive and sweet. A butterfly with its wings tore off. A sightless child wandering in the Elysian fields. She heard soft words, caring in tone but surrounded by flames. Why couldn’t she wake up?<br/><br/>WEEKS LATER<br/><br/>Isolde opened her eyes to a young maid but couldnt remember her name.<br/><br/>"I'll summon the master." she had said with a bob in Isolde's direction.<br/><br/>Soon the man, Hamish, Isolde smiled weakly at him as she remembered that much, returned with the maid. Both of them smiled at her and then at each other. Isolde was too weak to sit up or even raise her voice loud enough to be heard clearly.<br/><br/>"So you are the one who found me?" she gestured wanly. "Thank you. I fear I have been much trouble." She licked her lips. They were dry and cracked, "Could I have some water?"<br/><br/>The maid, the man had called her Chaya, Isolde thought, rushed to do her bidding and chattering away at her.<br/><br/>"We thought you were dead but Herr Hamish nursed you himself. He wouldn't let anyone but himself take care of you. He slept outside your door at night and if you so much as groaned he was right by your side. You did groan something fierce and talk in your sleep. Nearly every day since you have been here but no sir, Herr Hamish has been true and faithful. He is a good man."<br/><br/>Isolde could only blink at the onslaught of word. Tears rolled from the outside corners of her eyes so much was her gratitude. Finally, she closed her eyes and drifted into a restful sleep. When she woke up again, a man was sitting in a chair outside the door. Isolde had trouble focusing because one of her eyes was still swollen but she thought it was Hamish.<br/><br/>"You are real," she whispered loud enough for him to hear. "I thought I had dreamed you. I had the strangest dreams. But you are real and I think you saved me."