GEMMA
The next morning, after breakfast, I went to the dungeon. The guards had given Isla a tray of unappetizing-looking food. She didn't touch it.
She sat on the filthy floor, resting her back against the stone-cold wall. I sighed and sat on the floor outside the cell. She glanced at me.
"Why are you here again?" She asked. "Didn't I answer all your questions?"
"I brought you food," I said, holding onto the small cloth I had wrapped a few things in. There was bacon, a bit of bread, and some cookies. It wasn't much but it was better than the rice porridge that was lying cold in a bowl on the tray.
"No, thanks." She said, looking away.
Still, I unwrapped it and stuck my hand carefully between the bars of the cells to put the food on the floor. She glanced at it warily.
"Are you here
