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PAUL:

But you were able to understand her?

MICHAEL:

Roughly. Like I said, I'm not an expert and she rambled a bit. Her name is Isabel. She comes from an isolated village high in the mountains. Her village is protected, I think the word is, by a local...

(pauses, searches for the right word)

Lord, or baron, something like that.

PAUL:

A lord? In Mexico? I've never heard of such a thing. Could she have meant Don?

MICHAEL:

No. Not a Don. That term came much later. From the Spanish. I'm just not familiar enough with the vocabulary to be precise. It was a Nahuatl word. I'll check with a friend of mine. He knows more about the ancient dialects than I do. Anyway, in exchange for protecting the villagers, and I'm not sure about that word either, this baron or lord seems to... um... require a maiden be provided for him. It gets a little sketchy after that but I guess Isabel was chosen to be the next offering and fled the village.

PAUL:

Chosen by whom? The villagers or the baron?

MICHAEL:

(shrugs)

I couldn't tell, precisely. Translation is a funny thing. Especially when you deal with a language that is supposed to be extinct. Words usually have several meanings. Getting the right one is just guess work much of the time. I suggested maybe this would be a fine life for a young girl, you know, arranged marriages are still fairly common in Latin-American countries. And she would be getting a husband of some wealth and power.

(He lowers his voice and his expression grows puzzled as he looks in the direction of her room)

I couldn't really understand her answer, but the girl is definitely terrified of something. I can only guess it is this baron or whatever he is.

PAUL:

Well, at least she is safe from him here.

MICHAEL:

Yes. That's good. But what will happen to her now?

PAUL:

I don't know. She has to recover first. Then I guess we'll see.

MICHAEL:

Keep me informed of her progress. I'd really like to talk with her again. When she's... better, more coherent.

CUT TO:

INT. ISABEL'S HOSPITAL ROOM -- NIGHT

A tall man enters and moves soundlessly across the floor to the side of Isabel's bed. The room is too dark to see his face clearly. He watches her motionless for a long time, then bends over her.

CUT TO:

INT. ISABEL'S HOSPITAL ROOM -- THE NEXT MORNING

PAUL looks at the activity sheet and shakes his head, bewildered. Isabel hasn't been given any change in medication during the night, yet she is vastly improved. Her cheeks dull and sunken for almost a week are now rich with color. He looks over at the monitor. Her blood pressure is almost normal, her pulse strong, steady.

ISABEL notices him and the smile she gives him is noticeably warm.

PAUL:

(approaching the head of the bed)

Good morning, Isabel. I'm Doctor Thorsson. How are you feeling this morning?

Still smiling warmly, ISABEL reaches up and caresses two fingers to his cheek. They flutter there for a moment, as if reluctant to leave, then her hand falls gracefully back to her neck.

PAUL's gaze follows her hand and he notices a small red dot on her neck next to her hand. He grasps her wrist gently and moves her hand away for a better look. Surprisingly, she offers no resistance whatsoever, as if he could do anything he wants with her. There are two small red dots on her neck. He turns her unyielding head to the side and studies the marks closer.

PAUL:

(softly, to himself)

What the hell?

He is sure they weren't there when he first examined her. He straightens from his examination.

PAUL:

Rosie?

ROSALIE:

(off camera)

Yeah?

PAUL:

Where's the polaroid?

ROSALIE:

In the cupboard by the oxygen condenser.

PAUL:

Could you bring it here, please?

ROSALIE enters a moment later with the camera and hands it to him.

ROSALIE:

(concerned)

Is she all right?

PAUL:

(taking the camera and aiming it at the exposed marks on her neck)

She's more than all right.

PAUL snaps a picture of the wound.

PAUL:

Much more.

ROSALIE notes the readings on the monitor with surprise.

ROSALIE:

I'd say so. This must be some kind of miracle.

PAUL:

Yeah. A miracle. I've never seen anything like this.

CUT TO:

INT. ISABEL'S HOSPITAL ROOM -- THE NEXT MORNING

PAUL stands in the doorway staring at Isabel's bed. It is empty. He steps back and looks at the number on the door -- 306. It's the right room.

CUT TO:

INT. NURSES STATION -- CONTINUOUS

HELEN POTTER, the head nurse, greets PAUL as he approaches the desk.

HELEN:

Doctor Thorsson.

PAUL:

Helen. Where is the young woman from three-oh-six?

HELEN:

Isabel. Yes, what a marvelous recovery.

PAUL:

Yes it was. But where is she?

HELEN:

She was checked out early this morning by a...

(she riffles through a small stack of forms on the desk. Stops. Looks up.)

I wasn't here of course. Lillian was.

(goes back to riffling through the papers. Picks one up.)

Here it is.

(reads)

Doctor Emilio Chavez from Mexico City. It says... the doctor said her family had been very distraught and wished her to return to her own country to continue her care now that she has improved enough to travel.

PAUL:

(to himself, frowning)

How did he know she was well enough to travel?

HELEN:

Excuse me?

PAUL:

What? Nothing. You do know it's against hospital policy to release a patient without the attending physician's acknowledgement?

HELEN:

(frostily)

Yes, doctor. I do. Like I said. I wasn't here. Lillian was.

PAUL:

Is she aware of the hospital's policy toward releasing patients?

HELEN:

(with a flare of indignation)

Of course she is. All of my staff are instructed in all of the hospital's policies before they ever set foot on this floor.

PAUL:

Then how do you explain Isabel's absence?

HELEN:

I can't. Maybe...

(reads further)

Lillian goes on to say that although she was reluctant to do so, she released Isabel to Doctor Chavez' custody. She says he was very persuasive.

PAUL:

What does that mean, very persuasive?

HELEN:

I don't know. Those are her exact words,

(reading)

very persuasive.

DAVID:

(off camera)

Doctor Thorsson!

Enter DAVID BANNER, the medical examiner. He is well known throughout the hospital. Middle-aged, he is usually encountered rumple-coated and haystack-haired, hurrying down the corridor on what always seems very urgent business. DAVID stops right in front of Paul and studies the young intern as if he is conducting a preliminary exam on a corpse.

PAUL:

Hello, David.

David hooks his arm in Paul's and leads him away from listening ears. He waves a black and white blow-up under Paul's nose.

DAVID:

(with some urgency)

I want to talk to you about this photo you sent me.

PAUL:

What photo?

(glances at it)

Oh. What about it?

DAVID refuses to answer until they are safely in Paul's office and the door closed.

CUT TO:

INT. PAUL'S OFFICE -- CONTINUOUS

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