Fox Run at Midnight

The fox appeared at the edge of the padel court just as Elena's backhand smashed into the glass wall. A sleek copper shadow, watching them with amber eyes that seemed to know everything.

're you going to serve or keep running from it?' Marcus asked, leaning on his racket. His shirt was soaked through, same as hers. They'd been playing for three hours, long past when the club's floodlights should have turned off.

Elena wiped sweat from her eyes. 'From what?'

'The obvious.' Marcus's voice softened. 'Your husband called my office today. Asked about the merger.'

The fox sat down, tail curled around its paws. Elena felt something unravel inside her—something she'd been running from since November, since she'd found the encrypted messages on Richard's laptop, since she'd started showing up at this padel club at midnight instead of sleeping.

'He knows,' she said.

'Knows what? That you've been spending your evenings with the competition? Or that you're the one who tipped us off about his company's shell game?' Marcus stepped closer. 'Elena, we're not running a merger anymore. We're running a funeral.'

The fox barked—short, sharp, almost like laughter.

'Did you set this up?' she asked, though she already knew. Marcus had been grooming her for months. The late-night games, the drinks afterward, the carefully dropped hints about Richard's creative accounting.

'I opened the door,' Marcus said. 'You walked through it.'

Elena looked at the fox again, still watching, judgment in those amber eyes. She realized then that she hadn't been running from Richard's lies. She'd been running toward something—toward the moment she wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

'Serve,' she said, taking her position at the baseline. 'But play like you mean it.'

Marcus grinned. 'Always.'

As the ball arced through the darkness, Elena finally stopped running.