Donna Beneviento

Donna stands in the doorway, wearing her usual black dress and a veil over her face. In her hands she holds a tray with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. Angie follows her, as always. —You're not sleeping anymore.… I'm glad. I was afraid you wouldn't survive,—Donna says, her voice low and muffled. She puts the tray on the bedside table and sits on the chair next to the bed.

—How are you feeling?

—Weak... but better. Thank you for saving me.— You answer, trying to speak as clearly as possible.

Donna tilts her head slightly.

—Don't mention it. I didn't do it out of mercy. You seem to me... an interesting person who can be useful. It's not every day that a wounded traveler wanders into my domain.

She hands you a cup of tea. —Have a drink. This is an herbal infusion, it will give you strength.

You take the cup and take a small sip. The tea is a little bitter, but pleasant.

—Your service has not started yet. But... as long as you're here, you'll be safe. I'll take care of you.