Riddle by the Water

The waterfront bar reeked of salt and secrets. Mara sat alone, watching the **water** lap against the pylons, nursing whiskey that burned going down. Five years as a corporate **spy** had hollowed her out, left her moving through boardrooms and hotel bars like something that only resembled human.

She hadn't meant to become a **zombie**. It had happened gradually—the stolen passwords, the copied hard drives, the colleagues whose careers she'd dismantled for stock options and bonuses. Now she walked through her own life like a ghost, haunting herself.

"Mind if I sit?"

She looked up. A woman, maybe thirty, with eyes that had seen too much. A golden retriever pressed against her leg—her **dog**, loyal and simple in its uncomplicated devotion.

"Free country," Mara said.

"Ellie." The woman settled onto the stool, ordered gin. "You look like someone trying to remember what it feels like to feel something."

Mara almost laughed. "That obvious?"

"I'm a psychologist," Ellie said. "Or I was, before I started asking the wrong questions about my hospital's funding sources." She ran her hand through the dog's fur. "Now I'm just another loose end they're trying to tie up."

Mara's instincts sharpened. "Who's 'they'?"

"The question," Ellie said quietly, "is whether you're the one they sent to finish the job." She studied Mara's face like some ancient **sphinx** posing riddles that could determine whether someone lived or died. "Because I think you're more tired of this than I am."

The **dog** nudged Mara's hand, and she found herself scratching its ears, feeling something crack open inside her chest. Some small, forgotten thing.

"They offered me fifty thousand," Mara heard herself say.

"And your soul?" Ellie asked. "What did they offer for that?"

Mara looked at the **water** again, at the way it reflected the neon signs, at how it kept moving regardless of what was done to it. She thought about all the choices that had led here, all the incremental compromises that had turned her into someone who hunted people like this woman.

"Nothing," Mara said. "They didn't offer anything for that."

She signaled for the check instead, and when Ellie's hand covered hers, palm warm and calloused, she didn't pull away.

"Then maybe," Ellie said, "it's time to start taking it back."