The fugitives needed urgent passage to Jamaica and could afford it, but the preparations did not go unnoticed by Maria, the domestic slave. She realized that Isabelle had begun to behave even more strangely. The young woman spent long periods of time in front of her jewelry box, examining each piece with
an intensity that wasn’t normal. One afternoon, Maria decided to confront her directly. “Mrs. Isabella, what are you planning?” Isabella tried to feign normalcy, but Maria knew her too well. “Nothing. Maria was just admiring my jewelry.” “My child, I wasn’t born…”
“Yesterday,” Maria said firmly. “You’re planning something dangerous. I can see it in your eyes.” Finally, Isabella relented and told her about the escape plan. Maria listened silently to her expression, taking in every detail. “This is insane,” she murmured when Isabella finished.
“The roads are full of slave hunters, and even if you reach the port, how do you know you can trust this captain? This is our only chance,” Isabella insisted. Maria sighed deeply. As a mother, I understood Isabella’s desperation. As a slave
