Free But Inside I'm Screaming by Elizabeth Flock

I told you—” Isabel held her head in her hands “—I’m exhausted. You knew I wouldn’t have any time with you. I told you—I’m here to cover the inauguration.”
    “The inauguration’s over, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he said as he smoothed out his sport coat and carefully hung it in the hotel closet. “You don’t have to be back in New York until tomorrow.”
    “I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours. I’m incredibly hungover. I just want to sleep.”
    “You can sleep on the shuttle back tonight. There’s a media brunch in an hour I thought we could go to. Silent partners don’t exactly grow on trees, Isabel. Jennings just signed that fat contract: he might be feeling flush enough to invest in my place.”
    “I’ve been with these people for a week straight—I have absolutely no desire to hang out with them today. I just want to sleep, pack and go home.”
    “You’re seeing someone.”
    “Here we go…”
    “You’re seeing someone. That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want to go to this thing because he’s going to be there. Who is he?”
    “We’ve been over this and over this, Alex. I’m not going to do it again.”
    “For the life of me I don’t know who would have you. You disgust me. Look at you. You’re a fucking mess. You’re disgusting.”
    “Alex…”
    “Why do you have to lie? Just tell me the truth.” The vein on Alex’s forehead was starting to look like a blue river line on a map.
    “I am telling you the truth. I want to go home.”
    “No.” He was too measured. “That’s not what I want the truth about. Are you or are you not cheating on me?” He stood up from the edge of the hotel bed.
    “I am not cheating on you Alex,” she said. “But you never seem to want to believe me.” Isabel backed up toward the minibar.
    “Oh, I want to believe you. It’s just that I don’t. Believe. You.”

Fifteen
     
    “I sabel? Could you come to the nurses’ station with me?”
    It’s the nameless nurse who works the early dawn hours.
    Isabel follows her in. “What’s up?”
    “We wanted to tell you—” the nurse eyes something on a clipboard as if double-checking her information “—you have been approved for grounds privileges.”
    It’s about time.
    “So, what does that mean exactly?” Isabel pictures the stone gates at the edge of the driveway.
    The nurse puts the clipboard down, tilts her head down and looks over the rims of her glasses at Isabel. “Up until now you’ve only had access to the deck adjacent to the unit. From now on you may go anywhere on the compound but—” she emphasizes “but” as though Isabel is the birdman of Alcatraz “— but, you are required to check in here at the nurses’ station and update the dry erase board ev-er-y thir-ty minutes. Is that clear?”
    “Yes, that’s clear,” Isabel answers with more than a trace of sarcasm. She is careful, though, not to push it too far for fear that her privileges will be taken away.
    “To reiterate. You may go anywhere on the grounds but you must check back in here at the unit every thirty minutes. On the dry erase board you must account for your whereabouts. This also means that you no longer have to wait to be accompanied in to the dining hall—you may meet the group there and you may leave when you’re finished eating, if you choose to. But… ”
    Jesus.
    “…your mealtime remains the same. You need to eat when the unit eats. This is a big facility and units have allotted times in which to use the dining area. Am I being clear?”
    “Got it,” Isabel nods, already backing away. “Thanks.”
    She goes immediately to the dry erase board and signs herself out, carefully writing the word walk in big letters with the k backward, mocking the nurse’s childish instructions.
    Outside the air feels warm and sticky and, to Isabel, heavenly.
    Freedom.
    She follows the steep driveway that curled into her unit and pauses at the top of the hill.
    Only an idiot would rush down and