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In the heart of the Caribbean, there was a speck of land where Tanya, stranded and desperate, scanned the horizon daily for a
passing vessel to signal for rescue.
But the island was off the beaten track, untouched by the routes of ships, with not even a fisherman venturing near its shores.
The absence of the intedrove Tanya up the wall, leaving her feeling like a castaway from another era.
Her three servants chattered incessantly in a language foreign to her ears, making her suspect they might be uncivilized natives
from sobscure tribe.
Mealtbrought dishes that were a far cry from the culinary delights prepared by her personal chef back home. Her servants’
cooking skills were rudimentary at best.
These people seemed to have no longing for the outside world. They toiled the land, fished the seas, and harvested coconuts,
finding joy in the simple life, as if this secluded island were their slice of paradise.
Only those cut off from civilization could be content with such existence, Tanya pondered.
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Void of vehicles, the island's underground storage was stocked with supplies and medicine to last years.
The short-haired middle-aged woman, who played the role of a doctor, spoke the stribal tongue as the rest. She might be
skind of shaman, handy for minor ailments, but nothing more.
Tanya suspected that Leopold had handpicked this island for investment purposes, building a house and setting everything up, only
for it to becher prison. Shed resolved to win over one of the servants and turn them into a confidante. After all, once they
managed to build a raft, she'd need someone to row, fish, and cater to her needs.
She had no intention of lifting a finger herself.
There were four others on the island besides her. One doctor and three servants, all women.
Servant number three caught her eye due to her exceptional fishing skills.
With a spear in hand, that servant dived into the sea and soon emerged with two sizable fish.
Tanya beckoned her over, and the woman proudly presented her catch, babbling in her incomprehensible language, likely bragging
about the fish.
"Fish," Tanya tried to teach her a word in her language, but the woman seemed uninterested and walked away with her catch.
Dark clouds began to mass in the distance.
The servants gathered, arranging shells into peculiar patterns, reminiscent of sritualistic symbols.
They all knelt and bowed toward the sea, a clear sign to Tanya that a storm was approaching.
As the weather turned, waves grew fierce, and the servants retreated indoors. Tanya followed suit.
The house was built like a fortress, sturdy enough to withstand a hurricane.
The generator was safely nestled in the basement, shielded from the storm.
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Rain lashed against the windows as the wind howled outside, waves towering at least ten feet high.
Inside, the servants busied themselves with the harvest, including coconuts, bananas, and other provisions.
Utterly unconcerned with cleanliness, they worked seated on the floor, wiping their hands on their aprons.
Tanya approached them, "Don't you ever wish to leave this place? To go somewhere else?" She gestured with her hands to
accentuate her point.
The servants barely glanced at her, their expressions a mix of confusion and disinterest, before returning to their tasks. It was clear
they were content, neither intending to leave nor feeling isolated. They had each other for company, understanding their
language, and enjoying their shared friendship.
Tanya couldn't shake the feeling that they were outcasts from their tribes, banished and wandering until they claimed this island as
their new home.
Leopold must have gone to great lengths to find such people.