the clock that rested on my father’s bookshelf and the murmur of traffic passing below. I hoped Horatio was trying to figure out what I needed and hadn’t considered the discussion finished.
The bing startled Marcellus and me.
Horatio: wil cm fri. ok?
It wasn’t okay. That was five days away. Five days! My breath got really jagged, and my hands started shaking. Marcellus typed “ok” and put my phone in his pocket. “Don’t try to leave. You know you can’t,” he said sympathetically. He squeezed my shoulder.
The elevator opened, and another guard walked into my apartment. He nodded at Marcellus, and Marcellus headed for the elevator with the phones and computers in his arms.
The new guard, a baby-faced guy with a crew cut, stood blocking the elevator as the doors slid shut behind him. He clasped his hands in front of him and stared out the window across the room, ignoring my presence.
Leaning against the kitchen island, I tried to process the last hour. I stared furiously at the shiny black uniform blocking my way out. They can’t make me stay in here, I thought. Looking ahead as if he didn’t exist, I marched toward the elevator and pushed the button.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
My heart raced, but I didn’t answer.
“You’re not getting in that elevator,” he said, more of a challenge than an explanation.
Without replying, I studied my vague reflection in the brushed nickel doors. They slid open and I stepped forward. The guard grabbed me by the arm, swung me around, and threw me to the ground. I smacked my cheek as I landed. He pinned my arms behind me and held me down with one knee, not hard enough to hurt but enough to keep me still. “Send Marcellus,” he called into his shoulder walkie-talkie. “And you’re going to have to reprogram the elevator. I told you, it can’t stop on this floor.” He leaned on me until Marcellus returned.
As I lay there, my chest pressed to the floor, I thought of how sorry I was that I’d ever started dating Hamlet, wished that we’d never kissed on a whim back when we were just friends, wished that I’d listened to my father and truly ended things once they had begun. And if I could turn back time, I would have given up the years of kisses and caring and feeling special and feeling loved to have my father back. To have my freedom back.
Marcellus’s boots were highly polished, which I only noticed because they were so close to my nose. Calmly he said, “I’m going to have Officer Cornelius get off you now, but if you try to run, we’re both coming for you, and this time it’ll hurt.”
I felt Cornelius lift himself off my back, and I rolled over. Both men extended a hand, but I got up on my own. My cheek was throbbing, but I refused to touch it and give them the satisfaction of seeing the pain they had inflicted.
“How can you be a part of this?” I asked Marcellus, furiously trying not to cry again.
He didn’t answer but nodded at Cornelius and pushed the button. It didn’t light up.
“You’ll have to take the stairs. I had them reprogram it,” Cornelius told him.
“They’re going to need to switch that back,” Marcellus said, and then, speaking into his walkie-talkie, gave the order to change it. When he was done, he said to Cornelius, “Can’t have the rotation taking the stairs all the time.”
“Rotation?” I asked.
Cornelius said, “There’ll be three guards assigned to you, in eight-hour shifts.”
“Wait. Someone’s going to be in here all the time?”
“For now.” Marcellus frowned. He put his hands in his pockets and his voice grew gentle. “Listen, Ophelia, just stop fighting this. You know you hold no cards here. No one can protect you, and no one can release you except the king and queen. The only thing to do is wait it out, and your happiness is not their priority. So get comfortable.”
“What are they going to do with Hamlet?” I asked, my voice catching on his name.
“Not your concern. You take care now. We’ll make sure you’ve got food, and someone’ll be in to clean each week.”
“Week?” I gasped.
Marcellus nodded, his brow furrowed. “Could be a while.” He turned to push the button, and it lit up. Then he disappeared, leaving me with Officer Cornelius, questions, and bottomless grief. I sat, completely desolate.
Francisco: I quote, “I plan to kill Queen Gertrude and King Claudius, too! Take me away